Aiden Knight's POV
The silence in the arena felt heavier than stone. Three grandmaster corpses lay scattered around me like broken dolls. Blood pooled beneath Vincent Finch's twisted neck. Miles Graves stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Jason Yates remained crumpled against the cracked pillar.
Twenty thousand spectators watched me with a mixture of terror and fascination. Some were already edging toward the exits. Others seemed frozen in place.
Then movement caught my eye.
Another figure was descending from the referee platform. Tall, dignified, with silver hair and expensive robes that marked him as old martial arts nobility. His presence commanded immediate attention.
Bradley Orwell. Grandmaster ranked in the top 500 throughout all of Huaxia. Elder of the ancient Wu family.
He moved with fluid grace despite his apparent age. Each step was perfectly controlled. His eyes swept over the carnage with professional assessment rather than shock.
"Fascinating," he said quietly.
