Hockey rinks were one thing. Football stadiums were a rank above that. A stadium of Valhalla's Colosseum was an entirely different beast. The deafening roar of the crowd swept the world, a sea of eager spectators waving flags and banners. In the highest reaches of the stadium sat Dasha, Rehan, and Salah.
Frank too, because somehow, Rehan convinced him to tag along.
Peering down at the common masses, with a single look, Dasha could tell these people had put a steak on the battle.
Dasha put a fist to his cheek. "Who did you bet for?"
"I don't bet," Rehan replied. "Ooh, ooh, here they come."
From the tunnels, two figures walked. A casual, almost humble strut, yet Dasha's Qi went into a spiral at the sight of them. On the left was a crowned man that could only be described as ethereal. Robes woven by a white fabric and embroidered with gold threads spelling out celestial motifs. His sleeves connected, the Imperial Crown of the Qing Dynasty era atop his head, he stopped and waited.
