After three quick bouts, Vaeloria stood once again at the center of the ring, her breathing calm, blood-moon eyes steady as the barriers hummed back to life. The jade platform under her feet still carried faint scorch marks and traces of frost from earlier clashes, the air heavy with the lingering mix of blood, fire, and ozone.
The crowd's murmurs grew louder, billions watching from galleries that rose like endless mountains beneath the vast open sky.
Her fourth opponent materialized across from her.
A humanoid dragon—tall and imposing, scales of deep obsidian veined with molten gold, horns curving like ancient blades, tail lashing once behind him. He stood bare-handed, claws gleaming like natural weapons, Second Calamity aura radiating steady, controlled heat that warped the air around him. And he was unlike her previous foes.
There were no foolish words.
No taunts.
He had watched her previous fights—seen the precision, the silence, the way she ended opponents without waste.
