(Stage 2: Division Wars)
Chapter 252: The Draw of Fate
The hangover from the Gold Medal win lasted exactly twelve hours.
By 08:00 the next morning, the euphoria was dead. The confetti had been swept away by wind-mages, the alcohol had been metabolized (or purged) by the healers, and the Bio-Dome had undergone a terrifying transformation.
The lush biomes of the Labyrinth—the desert, the jungle, the ruins—were gone. The entire arena floor had been flattened and paved with cold, grey adamantite.
Rising from the center of this barren plain was a structure that looked like a jagged tooth aimed at the sky.
[Stage 2 Arena: The Tower of Duels]
It was a vertical colosseum. A series of floating platforms spiraling upward around a central pillar, each one a different size, each one devoid of cover. There were no trees to hide behind here. No vents to crawl through. Just you, your opponent, and a drop that would turn you into paste if your gravity spells failed.
