When clans arrived at the Roman Colosseum, each one set up a tent of its own. Most were makeshift tents, thrown together fast. Clans were not the only ones present. Several Paragon media organizations had also arrived, setting up equipment to capture every moment and every face around the Colosseum.
Because of that, the area looked like a massive campsite. Tents covered the ground in every direction. But that order didn't last long. With the current situation unfolding, many of those tents were already being torn down, crushed, or burned as fights broke out around them.
More clans began attacking each other.
Those that held invitations fought desperately, pushing forward as they tried to reach the Colosseum entrance. Everyone knew one rule, and it was simple. Once a clan handed their invite to the guards, that invite was locked in. It could no longer be challenged or stolen. Because of that, every step toward the entrance felt like a race against death.
While one clan rushed forward, another clan moved to block their path.
They positioned themselves not too far from the guards, but still at a safe distance. Close enough to threaten. Far enough to avoid immediate punishment.
A man stepped forward from the blocking clan, a smile stretching across his face.
"Where do you think you are going?" he asked calmly.
"Hand over the invite," he continued, his voice sharp, "and we might consider not killing you."
His words barely finished echoing before a fireball slammed into his body.
Flames swallowed him whole.
He didn't even have time to scream.
The fire didn't stop there. More fireballs followed, spreading outward in quick succession. They crashed into his teammates, blasting them off their feet and sending bodies flying across the ground.
With that, an opening was made.
The clan didn't hesitate. They rushed straight for the guards. Cards were pulled from their hands, checked in a blink, and then taken away. A second later, the guards stepped aside and let them pass through the gates.
They were in.
The moment others saw this, the atmosphere shifted again. Clans without invites surged forward, moving faster, harder, trying to block any path that led to the entrance.
"Who should we go for?" John asked, his eyes scanning the chaos ahead.
The Wyndhams still hadn't chosen a target.
Lucius watched closely. He studied the clashes, the flashes of skills, the bursts of aura. He measured strength, reactions, control.
'None of the clans with an invite are weak,' Lucius thought.
'Even the lower-ranked ones are stronger than us.'
The situation wasn't good.
Then a voice broke the tension.
"We should wait and watch for those that have fought for a while," Alex said suddenly, "then swoop in at the last minute."
Every head turned toward him.
They hadn't expected Alex to speak up. And judging by his own expression, Alex hadn't expected it either.
"Ah… I thought I was thinking to myself," Alex muttered, already trying to fade back into the background.
Lucius stared at him for a moment.
Then his eyes lit up.
"That's an excellent idea," Lucius said.
He paused, then shook his head slightly.
"But I have a better one."
Everyone leaned in.
"All eight participants will attack the opposing clan's fighters," Lucius said, his tone sharp and decisive. "I, along with the rest, will hold their leaders back."
The plan formed quickly in his mind.
"But we still target a clan that just finished a fight for an invite," Lucius added. "Worn down. Distracted. That's when we move."
The battlefield ahead didn't look any safer—but now, at least, they had a plan.
It didn't take long for Lucius to find a target.
A mage stood a short distance away. She wielded water magic and wore a white cloak with a deep hood pulled over her head. Her movements were clean and sharp. No wasted motion.
A blade of compressed water flashed.
A man's head rolled across the ground before his body even realized it was dead.
She stepped forward calmly and picked up the invite. It came in the form of an envelope, its surface marked with intricate rune patterns that glowed faintly.
The moment her fingers closed around it—
A blast of qi slammed into her chest.
She was hurled backward and crashed hard into the ground, the invite skidding just inches from her hand.
Her eyes snapped up.
A one-armed man was walking toward her, calm and steady. Three others followed at his side, their auras rising.
" We'll be taking it from here," Lucius said.
Her lips curled beneath the hood.
" Then you will die," the woman replied.
She opened her mouth.
A violent surge of high-pressure water exploded outward.
It was fast. Too fast.
Lucius didn't have time to dodge.
The attack slammed into his torso and crushed the air out of his lungs. His feet dragged across the ground as his body absorbed the hit. He gasped, not in pain, but because his breath had been forcibly squeezed from him.
Before she could press the advantage—
The Triple Js moved.
They burst forward at the same time, attacking from three angles.
Almost everyone in the Wyndham group was a Paragon warrior. Each of them had pushed their techniques to Stage 4. Their movements were sharp, practiced, and aggressive.
The woman reacted instantly.
She spun low across the ground, her cloak flaring as she moved. Water rose around her feet and spiraled outward, following her motion like living armor. She kicked off the ground smoothly, twisting her body with unnatural grace as the swirling water kept pace with her.
When she stabilized her footing, she moved without hesitation.
Her arm swung outward.
The spiral of water unraveled and shot forward in thin, razor-like threads.
Everything happened in a blink.
The Triple Js didn't even get the chance to strike.
The water thinned as it flew, turning almost invisible. They couldn't see it anymore—but they felt it. The air screamed. Their instincts screamed louder.
They were about to be cut clean in half.
A hand wrapped in dense energy snapped forward and caught the threads mid-air.
Lucius.
The water threads dug into his palm and forearm, vibrating violently.
" Fool!" the woman shouted.
Her voice was sharp. Confident.
" Now you will have no arms."
The threads twisted and wrapped around Lucius's arm, tightening like living wire.
" You three, stay out of this," Lucius said through clenched teeth.
" She's too powerful."
The Triple Js froze, frustration written all over their faces.
The water threads began to move.
Back and forth.
Like a saw.
Blood sprayed from Lucius's arm as the threads chewed into flesh. His muscles trembled, but he didn't scream. He didn't step back.
Then—
Qi surged.
It rushed over his arm and hardened, forming a thick, glowing layer like a gauntlet. The energy pulsed once.
Boom.
The qi exploded outward.
The water threads shattered into mist, ripped apart by raw force.
Lucius lowered his arm, breathing heavy.
' I didn't lose my arm because I was weak,' he thought.
' I lost it because I fought something I didn't understand.'
This time, he understood.
---
Alex and the other participants were already moving.
While Lucius held the woman back, they turned toward her people.
The woman Lucius was facing belonged to the Khyphon Clan.
They were known for water magic. Not the crude kind. The refined kind. The type that didn't need rivers or lakes nearby. They could pull moisture straight from the air and shape it at will.
They were good at it. Too good.
In the past, clans like Khyphon were regular invite holders for events like this. But that was years ago. They had lost their invitation long ago and never truly recovered.
A fallen clan.
One trying to climb back up.
That explained why only one leader had come with them. The rest were all participants, prepared in advance. No excess. No waste.
That detail bothered Alex.
'It's like they expected this,' he thought.
'Like they came ready to steal an invite, not just hope for one.'
Most of the clans fighting right now weren't actually ready for the tournament. They just wanted the invite. If they got one now, it meant future access. Another chance in another Battle Royal. That alone was worth risking their lives.
But the Khyphon Clan was different.
From Alex's view, they already had their lineup prepared. Four participants. All wearing the same white hooded cloaks as the woman Lucius was fighting.
They had just finished taking an invite from another clan.
And then—
Eight figures closed in around them.
The four cloaked members moved instantly. They regrouped, backs close, facing outward. Tight formation. Clean movement. No panic.
Alex narrowed his eyes.
He began scanning them one by one.
He couldn't see their faces. The cloaks hid that. The system still refused to give him clear data. But something else stood out.
The way they stood.
The way their qi flowed.
'These four…' Alex thought, his chest tightening.
'One of them is from the Dragon Roar clan.'