The Spire of Trials did not look like a place built for education.
That was because Astral Zenith rarely wasted honesty on architecture.
White stone rose from the central island in seven narrowing rings, each one carved with old names, older victories, and enough decorative angels to pretend public violence had divine supervision. Bridges connected the lower galleries to viewing platforms where students gathered by tier. Gold above Silver, Silver above Iron, Iron above Obsidian, Obsidian near the exits where humiliation could leave quickly.
Efficient cruelty.
I appreciated the design on professional grounds.
The arena floor waited at the center, circular, pale, and polished until it reflected the sky. Faint red stains lived inside the stone no cleaning spell had erased completely.
