The dust swirled around him, drawn into a vortex of his ki. The very air crackled with the violent clash of energies as Zarot channeled everything he had left into one final technique.
"Wrath of the Colossus!" he bellowed, his voice hoarse—ragged with both pain and fury.
The ground beneath Alan's feet trembled. Massive pillars of earth erupted from the arena floor, lunging toward him like the claws of a great beast. Each was imbued with Zarot's ki, shrieking with destructive energy as they tore through the air.
The crowd gasped, recoiling as the attack's intensity washed over them. Even hardened warriors shifted uneasily in their seats, recognizing the devastating force behind the technique.
But Alan didn't flinch.
He stood motionless, watching the earthen pillars surge toward him with the same deadpan, unamused expression he had worn since the battle began. To the audience, his composure looked like madness.
