The Blood Dragon Sea.
The fourth Arena, the Ring-Void Arena.
The entire sea was swallowed by dark red blood mist that never dispersed year-round, its surface waters glowing red like molten iron.
Beneath the surface, ferocious-looking Blood Dragon phantoms occasionally swept past, their tail fins churning up hundred-meter waves of murky water. The waves struck the barriers surrounding the Arena with muffled booms.
This Arena stood above the sea, its interior forming an independent interstitial space. Circular stands cast from dragon-pattern meteorite iron surrounded it, and hundreds of millions of "lock-press runes" were embedded in its barriers, specifically to contain the aftershocks of battle and gather escaping power.
The central platform was built from dark-blood dragonbone rock. Stained by countless battles, its rocky seams held the dried, blackened blood essence of creatures from every race, seeping bone-chilling ferocity.
At that moment, a burly figure sat alone on the dragon-headed stone seat directly north of the platform, his hands resting naturally on his knees.
He stood over two meters tall, his upper body bare. Beneath his bronze skin, muscles coiled like dragons, every inch packed with explosive strength.
Old wounds of varying depths crisscrossed his body: gashes torn by exotic beasts' claws, pale silver brands left by burning laws, and round scars where weapons had pierced his torso, densely covering his chest, abdomen, and back.
These scars gradually faded with his breathing.
As he exhaled, the savage pressure drifting around him drew inward through his pores. Blood-colored particles that had been scattering wildly returned like schooling fish, settling in orderly layers against his skin to form a blood-colored membrane as thin as a cicada's wing.
As he inhaled, the membrane instantly collapsed inward, merging entirely into his bones and meridians.
The invisible pressure surrounding him contracted and expanded with the rhythm