The great battle had ended. Though the factions still had their disputes, they agreed on one thing: the tournament was not over. The fighting had to continue.
And it was time to draw lots.
"The drawing begins."
As the voice rang out from the Arena, the experts of the Chaos Ancient Clan and the Origin Continent narrowed their eyes.
The drawing marked the start of another round of combat.
Every remaining contestant from the Origin Continent was seething.
The Origin Continent had suffered a crushing loss in the last match.
Two prodigies had died in the infighting on the Arena, and both had been from the Origin Continent.
On top of that, they had lost an entire province.
They had lost so badly they might as well have lost their shirts at their grandmother's house.
They had to regain their standing in this match.
They had to win back everything they had lost.
"The drawing is complete. Number ten."
As the voice fell, the matter was settled.
"Number ten is me."
On the Chaos Ancient Clan's side, a white figure drifted past.
In the blink of an eye, that white figure stood on the Arena.
A closer look revealed a woman.
Her body closely resembled that of the Human Race. The only difference was her skin, which was white as snow.
It was not a sickly pallor, but a pure white—the white of snow.
She wore a white dress.
White head, white hair, white dress.
"She looks like a ghost."
"And I've never seen her before. No idea where she came from."
On the Origin Continent's side, a young man muttered his complaint and slowly walked toward the Arena.
He was muscular and bronze-skinned, with a resolute face. Bare-chested and wearing a grass skirt, he carried an axe in his