Outside, in the clearing behind the base, the trees fall away into a wide, open ring of scorched earth and stone—clearly used often for combat. Scars from previous fights cut deep into the dirt: impact craters, melted grooves, claw marks, and bloodstains long since dried.
A crowd is already gathering, drawn by word of the challenge. Dozens of Ember Claw members form a loose circle around the clearing's edge—beasts, mutants, chimeras, and more monstrous things cloaked in shadow and mist. Many tower over Alix, others crouch low with twitching limbs, some hiss softly with anticipation.
"He's going to fight the commander?" a scaled brute mutters, blinking wide amber eyes.
"No way he survives," a stitched-together abomination chuckles. "Lathar doesn't hold back."
"Still…" says a feathered creature with glowing orbs for eyes, "Gotta give him credit. Takes guts to stand up to a peak Tier 5."
