The blast wave swept across the platform like an invisible giant hammer.
Stone shattered.
Dust exploded into the air.
The smoke cloud itself was blown apart.
Several spectators instinctively covered their faces.
A few weaker disciples nearly lost their balance from the shockwave.
When the explosion finally settled, everyone immediately searched for Uther.
They found him.
Not on the platform.
Outside it.
His body had been thrown completely beyond the edge of the ring.
Several portions of his clothing were burned away, exposing red and black patches across his skin. Fortunately, the assassin's reflexes had saved him. He had managed to partially defend himself at the final moment, reducing the damage significantly.
The injuries looked painful.
But not life-threatening this time.
The moment his body touched the ground outside the platform, however, the battle was already over.
The rules were clear.
Touch the ground.
Lose the match.
