The elevated ring was encircled by a semicircle of Warriors, their black tunics with colored stripes gleaming under sunlight streaming through the windows.
The air buzzed with tension, and the crowd's murmurs filled the space.
Charles, or rather Rian, climbed onto the ring with steady steps, adjusting the bandages on his hands.
He felt every stare—some curious, others hostile—piercing him.
Varn, the ponytail guy with red stripes on his tunic, stood at the opposite end, stretching his arms with a smug grin.
'This'll be interesting,' Charles thought, keeping his face neutral.
Before stepping up, Neymar and Joren had pulled him aside for a warning.
"Watch out for Varn," Neymar had said, serious. "He controls fire, like you, but likes getting close and touching opponents with his hands. He can incinerate what he grabs."
Joren nodded, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, he's fast," he added. "Don't let him catch you."
Charles had smiled, though inwardly he was chuckling.
