The bells of the Grand Arena never stopped ringing.
Their sound—deep, ancient, laced with the echo of centuries—rolled across the marble halls like thunder. Each toll was a warning, a prayer, and a death sentence, all at once. The arena that once hosted champions and heroes had become a fortress—a holy bastion now under siege by the devils' unholy legions.
Captain Darien Holt pressed his back to a pillar, his breath shallow and uneven, the sacred relic secured in a reinforced case slung across his shoulder. Around him, the vast colonnades of the arena trembled with every impact from the outside bombardment. Cracks snaked up the once-perfect marble, and golden dust from the ornate ceiling rained down like falling embers.
