It was Zephyrion's first fight of the second round. The crowd had already witnessed the battles of the primary descendants from the other high houses. Overwhelming might and talent that crushed their opponents with utter ease.
Now, they were about to witness the battle of a dynasty heir. Across the Ferran Empire, dynasty heirs were regarded as a different breed entirely. Overwhelming talent. Overwhelming might. They were akin to gods amongst men.
The chatter gradually faded. A deafening silence settled over the entire coliseum.
Zephyrion could feel it. The thousands of eyes fixed on him, anticipating, waiting. The city lords seated above were no different. Their brows were furrowed as they watched in tense silence.
There was a question in their eyes.
How would this battle unfold?
Yet the countless gazes did nothing to shake Zephyrion. He regarded the girl before him with an impassive stare.
