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Outside, Daniel continued to play, with his mana and sound echoing through the arena and bouncing out as if the structure was a giant speaker. The people, originally drunk on bloodlust, were soothed by the reverberating tunes, and his energy filled their minds like a sweet drug. He eventually finished his concert and received a standing ovation. However, it wasn’t just his playing that got them all riled up. Now, the fifth round could begin, and the first fight was bound to be an interesting one.

His wings were aching and threatening to snap, but he forced himself to his feet and returned to the sky. He took after Ingram, once again attacking him from behind. The two of them crashed atop the edge of the arena, overlooking the crowds. It was little more than a cement lip encircling the arena, offering some protection from the sun and the weather. The two got to their feet, both bruised and exhausted, with the spectators cheering as they spotted the combatants overhead.

The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.