The roar of the colosseum was deafening.
Feet hammered against the blacksteel stands.
Nephirid of every caste filled the air with war cries.
Their voices rose like a storm.
"TZAREK!"
"TZAREK!"
"TZAREK!"
The name rolled through the obsidian arena like a war drum.
Under the burning sigils of the combat dome, two figures faced each other in a standoff.
One was a towering Nephirid warrior with coal gray skin.
Molten orange light pulsed through his veins.
His spear gleamed with runic carvings that flickered as if they were alive.
Every breath he took sent dust rippling across the stone floor.
He was a captain of the Ash Legion.
Across from him stood Tzarek.
His upper body was bare, his muscles hard and marked with burn scars and sigil brands.
He carried no long weapon, only two crimson fang daggers.
His eyes were narrowed, calm, and focused.
A gong boomed above.
"BEGIN!"
The challenger dashed forward.
His spear thrust straight toward Tzarek's throat.
