"NINTH VEIN! NINTH VEIN!"
The roars were endless. The people had come to bear witness to the return of their champion. To the return of him.
Usually, during past Walks of Glory, it was normal for the people to cheer different names. They had always been given the freedom to support whoever they chose, even if it wasn't a vein.
But now, after three hours of heart pounding action, the people of Vitaemora had chosen a single person.
It was unprecedented, something that had only happened during the time of the Sovereign and Valerian. And now, it had happened once more.
Julius clenched his fists tightly as he walked. Among the veins, he was the only one at the far, far back, where the youths with zero points had been made to gather.
Words couldn't begin to describe the humiliation he was feeling. Even Octavia, the youngest among them, had managed to secure a Gravethorn.
