The training grounds were carved directly into the mountainside—a vast circular arena open to the sky, with stone seating rising in tiers around the central space. The floor was polished granite, scarred with scorch marks and impact craters from countless previous demonstrations. Some of those craters looked fresh. Others had been worn smooth by time and foot traffic.
By the time Northern and his group arrived, what looked like half the palace had gathered. Courtiers filled the upper tiers, soldiers lined the walls, and even servants had found spots where they could watch. Word had apparently spread fast.
'Of course it did. King's best warrior versus the kid who claims he killed an Origin.'
Northern descended the steps to the arena floor, his friends taking seats in the front row. Ellis looked worried. Nyssira looked concerned but trying to hide it. Shae was analyzing the space with tactical interest—probably calculating sight lines and exit routes out of habit.
