In just a moment, a bloody scene seemed to decorate the stage. As he stepped onto it, Yan Xiaobao felt uneasy, knowing that beneath him lay the blood of countless lives sacrificed in the battles. Like this one.
This feeling of unease didn't stem from a dislike of death but rather from the ferocity of the red mist swirling so violently that he almost lost control of it again. With the faint aid of the tranquil clouds, the crimson rain was subdued once more, and Yan Xiaobao exhaled a sigh of relief. The notion of harboring an intense will within his body, one he couldn't entirely control, was what troubled him most.
As Yan Xiaobao ascended the stage, his friends stood behind him. A thunderous cheer erupted throughout the arena as everyone celebrated the leader stepping up from the very start.
