The arena had barely cooled.
The dust from Karna and Arjuna's clash was still settling when the next names echoed like a bell across the battlefield.
"Next Match, The Duo: Do you now send your participants?"
Cheers rumbled like distant thunder as two figures stepped onto the battle platform, Indraketu, a boy with dark bronze skin and piercing yellow eyes, holding a staff adorned with charms. And beside him, Vajramukh, tall and muscular for his age, with a sharp jaw and glowing tattoos etched on his arms.
From the other side, Beowulf, the captain looked at the siblings. "Azrael, Eon, you are up."
Rael and Eon jumped onto the other side of the arena, side by side, looking completely calm.
Meanwhile, their opponents raised their hands, summoning their Arcana spirits.
"Come out, Vrishabha"
From Indraketu's side, the ground trembled—and a massive silver bull, snorting mist, stomped into the arena. It had four eyes and metal plates running across its back.
