The battlefield had reached its limit.
The Grand Imperial Arena no longer resembled a place built for tournaments, nor did it feel like an arena meant for students of the younger generation. It looked instead like the center of a war between opposing realms—one forged from sovereign fire and the other born from endless twilight.
Crimson-gold flames surged violently across half the battlefield, melting stone and turning shattered terrain into rivers of glowing magma. White-gold currents flowed through those flames like divine veins, pulsing with dangerous authority that distorted the surrounding air.
Opposing them stood the endless eclipse darkness.
Cold twilight pressure spread through the remaining half of the arena like a living abyss, swallowing light and suppressing spiritual flow with terrifying precision. Shadows crawled unnaturally across broken terrain while drifting black feathers descended continuously from storm-dark skies above.
