Three days before the duel
The Earth warriors were given a training facility to prepare themselves. Some focused on cultivation, others sparred or offered guidance to their peers.
Thrax, in particular, was overly enthusiastic.
The immortal gladiator was a towering figure of bronze muscle and unshakable resolve. He welcomed the surrounding assault as though it were a greeting from old friends. His booming laugh shook the field.
Around him, six elite warriors converged: Octavius, Titus, and Armenius—young but formidable Romans—moved as one, forming a triangular encirclement, their weapons blazing with condensed ether.
The one who led the charge was Glita—the Fey girl—transformed mid-dash, her graceful human frame replaced by a lithe, silver-haired beast cloaked in frost. Her claws glinted with icy energy, every slash hissing like steam as it cut the air.
From above, Brandt dove like a raptor, his spear crackling with elemental wind, spiraling downward in a death dive.
