The chaos was at its peak. The air was a jagged mess of clashing auras, Alchemical Fire, and mechanical steam. Swords were drawn, and the first drop of blood was moments from hitting the marble floor.
Then, it happened.
Ahem...
A single, dry throat-clearance echoed through the colossal hall. It wasn't loud. It didn't rumble like thunder or scream like a gale. It was a simple, human sound—but the effect was instantaneous and terrifying.
Across the arena, the masters of the Spiritual Sea Realm —the General Manager of the Fleet, the Guild Masters, and the Royal Elders—suddenly gasped for air. It felt as if an invisible, titan-sized hand had reached into their chests and squeezed their very souls. Their vast spiritual seas, which moments ago were churning with power, were suddenly flattened, suppressed into absolute stillness by the sheer weight of that single sound.
The silence that followed was deafening. No one moved. No one breathed.
