"Xiao Ling of the Xiao family, Major Gold Rank. White Rose of the Ice Sect, an initial Gold Rank."
Two figures stepped onto the grand stage.
White Rose was an enigma wrapped in elegance. She wore a flowing white robe, and a delicate mask obscured her face.
But even through the disguise, her presence was captivating. There was a quiet lethality to her movements, like a blade hidden within silk.
A beauty to behold, yet like the flower she was named after, she was covered in thorns—deadly and unyielding.
Opposite her, Xiao Ling walked in with his usual air of leisure, hands tucked in his sleeves, his posture relaxed.
Unlike his opponent, there was no hint of tension in his body. But those who knew Xiao Ling understood—his casual demeanor was not to be mistaken for carelessness.
It was the confidence of a warrior who had nothing to prove, yet everything under control.
The arena went silent.
Then, the referee raised his hand.
"Fighters, take your positions!"
