With the start given, absolute stillness settled over the battleground. Formations held. No one moved inside their ranks, and a single held breath seemed to press down on the white marble.
Every gaze fixed on the three at the peak—Lunari, Umbraen, Gorathim—while the arena waited for one of them to make the first move. Even small motions felt loud.
Among the lesser races, the strategy was obvious. They chose to stay low-key and prioritize survival until the top 200. Run when needed, dodge cleanly, keep out of sight, strike only at the best openings, reduce the numbers, and let the giants erase competitors for them.
Adyr waited as well. His focus rested on the Umbraen; knowing their character, he judged they were the most likely to act first.
Then something made him pause. His stance stayed loose while only his eyes tightened.
His Gaze, always active, laid a vision across his sight from 10 seconds in the future, a crisp overlay slipping into place above the present.
