Grillman was carried away. He lay on a stretcher, covered in wounds, his formal attire torn to shreds, but his crimson eyes still burned with fighting spirit, fixed on Qi Wu until he was carried out of the square.
Over by the Ventrue family, Lilith's father watched the scene and sighed without a word. A servant beside him quietly asked whether they should visit Grillman, but he shook his head. "Let him cool off on his own."
Qi Wu brushed the dust off his clothes and was about to step down from the arena.
Suddenly-
"Wait!"
A deep, rough voice thundered from the VIP seats, like rolling thunder sweeping across the square. Everyone froze and turned toward the sound.
The Northern Plains Tyrant, Svarog, had risen to his feet.
He was bare-chested, his bronze muscles gleaming like metal in the sunlight, flames burning in his gray-blue eyes.
He casually grabbed the Great Axe leaning beside his throne, slung it over his shoulder, and strode down from the VIP seats.
Every step shook the ground, his bare feet leaving distinct footprints in the alloy floor.
It seemed the Tyrant, leader of the Northern Plains, was about to take action himself!
Three hundred warriors of the Northern Plains roared in unison, beating their shields with their battle-axes, their cries shaking the heavens.
Tyrant Svarog reached the edge of the arena, vaulted up with one hand, and landed like a mountain of flesh with a thunderous crash. The ground shook again.
He stood opposite Qi Wu, barely ten paces away.
One was a mountain of muscle, the other a slender, white-haired young man, tall as bamboo. They could hardly have looked more different.
Svarog looked Qi Wu up and down, his gray-blue eyes filled with admiration.
"Not bad. Very strong. Much stronger than