The fourth day of the Celestial Descent Festival dawned just as lively as the previous ones.
The sun slowly rose above the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson that announced another day of celebration.
The cool morning air carried the scent of damp earth and spiritual herbs, a combination Kyrian was already beginning to associate with the festival's routine.
As soon as he left the Sky Caravan, Kyrian walked along the broad stone roads that connected the city to the immense arenas built specifically for the festival.
The path was familiar now, every curve and intersection engraved into his memory after four days of coming and going.
Even after four consecutive days of competition, the crowd's enthusiasm had not diminished. On the contrary, it seemed to grow with each new day, as if the festival were a flame feeding upon the very energy of its participants and spectators. Every morning brought new expectations, new wagers, and new hopes.
