Max stood silently on the white-colored tiles of the arena floor, his gaze fixed ahead as the air shimmered a hundred feet before him.
From the rippling space, a crimson haze began to take form, swirling with flickers of fire and shadow. Slowly, it condensed into the shape of a man—his aura ancient, his presence commanding.
'Past geniuses of the Black Lotus Guild?' Max thought, his eyes narrowing. He hadn't expected to face them like this—not as echoes or projections, but as reconstructed beings of power and pride, brought back through time by the tower's mystical memory.
Without hesitation, Max activated his 300 Draconic Essences, and in an instant, raw strength surged through every inch of his body. His veins pulsed with draconic might, his muscles coiling with energy as his heart pounded—not from fear, but from excitement.
His fighting spirit ignited like wildfire, blazing in his chest with an intensity that made the very air around him shudder.
