The old man's voice echoed across the First Progenitor Arena, calm yet heavy enough to silence the chaos that had swallowed the battlefield.
"You dare attack my descendant in front of me?"
The four ancestral figures that had started descending from the sacred clan platforms froze in midair. Their bodies weren't fully physical yet, but the pressure coming off them was enough to make the whole arena feel like it had sunk beneath four ancient heavens. One stood wrapped in white-gold light, his eyes burning like sacred suns.
One was covered in crimson-black battle aura, his armor lined with old scars and blood iron marks. One stayed half-hidden beneath a veil of shadow and purple feathers, silent and eerie. The last was surrounded by green-silver spatial roots, his old eyes filled with cold fury as he stared at both Max and the Voidwalker Ancestor.
