A week had passed since Liona's visit. The Ambrose estate already showed signs of repair. Scaffolding climbed the exterior walls, workers cleared overgrown pathways, and the sounds of construction filled the once-quiet grounds.
The tournament, meanwhile, had progressed to the next step. Each day brought new eliminations, new injuries, and occasionally, new deaths. The spectacle had grown more intense with every match, drawing larger crowds and more fervent reactions.
Today, as Grim took his customary place in the competitors' section, a hush fell over the arena. An announcer stepped to the center of the fighting area, his voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the massive structure.
"Honored guests, noble houses, and citizens of the Empire," he announced, arms spread wide. "We have reached the quarterfinals of the Imperial Tournament!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, stomping feet creating a thunder that Grim could feel through the stone beneath him.
