The sun hung low over Krayon Sol, its golden light washing across the marble towers and winding bridges like melted glass. The middle district buzzed with life—banners of every color fluttered between stone archways, magical symbols glowed above streetlamps, and voices of every species mingled in the air.
It was tournament day.
And it wasn't just any tournament.
The Celestial King himself had sanctioned this one. A once-in-a-decade show of strength and diplomacy, drawing in champions and warlords, mystics and monarchs, all under the guise of performance—but everyone knew what it really was.
A gathering of power.
And this year?
It was where Joshua planned to announce his return.
