Two colossal battlefields stretched across the radiant expanse of the Great Sanctuary of Greatness.The atmosphere shook beneath the weight of anticipation — as though the very sky leaned forward to watch.On the left battlefield, Lukan Maser stood poised, his slim frame radiating an eerie calm.He faced Ryo Pogoda, whose eyes glinted with sharp golden focus.Both youths were statues of discipline, yet primed like loaded cannons, one breath away from unleashing destruction.On the right battlefield, Elanor Bal squared off against Mira Dawncrest, their silhouettes tense, eyes locked, the air around them shivering as their auras slowly awakened.All four participants stood in absolute stillness — their stances perfect, shoulders lowered, breaths steady, bodies angled for eruption.The focus in the arena was palpable, thick enough to crush lungs.Above them, hundreds of thousands filled the colossal arena seats, the roaring coliseum arches reverberating like mountains struck by lightning

In the Noble Gallery“Hydro Collapse!!” Grand Elder Dezai exclaimed, his aged voice thundering through the noble gallery.His eyes widened, trembling with astonishment.“You will be damned… to think this kid has already grasped that spell at such a young age.”Duwe Sparrow, standing nearby with arms folded behind his back, leaned slightly forward, confusion forming on his brows.“Grand Elder… you know that spell?”Before Dezai could respond, Eclipse Bal, chuckled softly.“Mmh. You might not know, young Sparrow,” Eclipse said, tapping his fingers against his palm, “since you’re still young.”His eyes shifted toward the battlefield, utterly focused.“Most gathered here have seen that spell before… But what we witnessed then was larger than that — at least fifty times.”Duwe’s breath hitched.“F–fifty folds…?” he muttered, sweat trailing down his cheek.Eclipse nodded gravely.“That,” Eclipse began, his gaze fixed on the collapsing water slab, “is one of Sect Master Luke Maser’s spells.

The grimoire flickered as its pages opened—each turn of a page unleashing a deep, resonant sound like an ocean wave crashing against ancient cliffs.The noise wasn’t merely heard; it vibrated through the bones of every spectator, a divine resonance.The grimoire hovered at Lukan Maser’s left side, suspended by a serene, godlike force, rotating slowly with ghostly-blue waterlight streaming from its spine.Now the massive battlefield was flooded with a chaotic mixture of energies:Lukan’s primordial azure magic, thick and swirling like a raging tide, clashed violently against Ryo’s radiant golden light-lightning martial aura.The collision wasn’t subtle.It was explosive, overwhelming, beautiful.The two forces pressed against each other like two suns trying to occupy the same sky, golden arcs slicing through azure currents, azure pressure bending around golden brilliance.The atmosphere itself seemed to ripple—and the crowd reacted as though the very air had been stolen from their lung

The moment the last pieces of the gigantic battlefield settled into place, the earth let out a low, exhausted groan.Cracks sealed themselves.Ancient runes along the perimeter flared once, then dimmed, stabilizing the vast arena that now stretched like a war-scarred plain beneath the open sky.A heartbeat passed.Then Amon’s voice roared once more, carrying authority that rolled across stone, air, and soul alike.“The Seventh Round will begin in fifteen minutes,” Amon announced, his form still hovering above the sanctuary like a living decree.“Once again, I thank you all for gracing us with your presence—from every corner of the Phantom Petal Region and beyond.”His gaze swept across the sea of faces—nobles, sect disciples, wandering cultivators, hidden masters—and for a fleeting instant, it felt as though he saw everything.Upper Gallery“So you truly are something,” Marcellia Valmorra said softly, her eyes turning toward the old man beside her. “I must say, Devi Pogoda.”Devi rema

“What is this pressure… this aura?” Oasis thought as the crimson light reflected in his azure eyes.The red glow washed over his face, painting his features in blood-hued brilliance.For the first time since entering the Sanctuary, a chill ran down his spine—not fear, but something sharper.Excitement. Instinctive alertness.A smirk slowly crept onto his lips as his heartbeat subtly changed rhythm.So this is her…Nearby, Lukan Maser abruptly opened his eyes.The meditative stillness around him shattered.The air that had been calm moments earlier now felt thick, heavy, almost viscous.Crimson light flooded the waiting platform, reflecting off the polished stone and casting long, distorted shadows beneath the bright noon sun.Lukan’s pupils constricted as his senses expanded outward.This wasn’t simple pressure.It was dominance.The kind that did not scream, but declared.His breathing steadied as he rose to his feet, gaze locked onto Elanor’s distant figure.For the first time since