The cheers that had erupted following Garrick's defeat had long since mutated into a buzzing, anxious hum. The Grand Arena of Overlords Academy was no longer just a venue for sport; it was the epicenter of a paradigm shift. The students, faculty, and hidden spies watching from the stands weren't just witnessing a tournament—they were watching the old hierarchy be dismantled, piece by piece, by a freshman wearing the robes of a king and wielding the power of a god.
Alvian stood in the preparation tunnel, the darkness cool against his skin. The [Vestments of the Void Monarch] rippled silently, the fabric absorbing the dim light of the corridor. He didn't need to check his status panel, but the habit was ingrained.
[Mana: 45,000 / 45,000]
[Regeneration: 4,500 MP/sec (Infinite Sustain Active)]
He was full. He was ready.
