The enormous hall remained immersed in an atmosphere of silent anticipation, so dense that it seemed possible to cut it with a blade.
The air was heavy with a palpable tension, a mixture of anxiety, hope, and determination that emanated from every one of the thousands of cultivators present. The gentle light of the spiritual crystals on the ceiling bathed the hall in a serene glow, creating an almost ironic contrast with the inner turmoil that dominated the hearts of the participants.
Time passed slowly, each minute stretching on. Minute after minute, more cultivators crossed the great white stone entrance, their footsteps echoing across the polished floor like the beats of a distant drum.
Each new arrival presented their identification plaque to the elders responsible for registration, received a nod of confirmation, and took their place among the countless rows of seats that stretched out like a sea of expectant faces.
