Inside the Ivory Tower, Braydon Neal stepped through the door, feeling as though he had traversed into another realm.
The endless grassland sprawled before him, alive with fluttering butterflies and the swift passage of hundreds of birds.
As Braydon surveyed his surroundings, his gaze fell upon a stone tablet standing resolute.
Etched upon the ancient black stone was a solitary image, one that seemed to draw the viewer into its depths, hinting at a potent combat technique—an Ivory Tower drawing.
Its promise lay in enhancing one's martial prowess, a fact that captivated Braydon's attention.
A commanding voice echoed from above, heralding the commencement of the Ivory Tower's first round.
Time slipped away in mere breaths as ten heartbeats passed in the blink of an eye.
In the distance, a figure cloaked in green approached with nimble grace.
