Ae'zard plummeted from the skies, swooping Ae'ark's completely battered body into his arms.
His expression was both serious and deeply saddened as he stared down at his grandson.
"You're going to be okay,"
He whispered as mana enveloped them both, healing Ae'ark's brutal wounds.
Despite hearing his grandfather's voice, Ae'ark could barely register the words. However, he felt the familiar warmth and allowed the mana to flow deep into his body, healing him as he closed his eyes to rest. At the very least, he had survived.
Even as multiple lights ignited in the middle of the arena, Ae'zard focused solely on his grandson. The other paragons, however, were the opposite.
Multiple heavy presences soon landed in the arena as the blinding lights started to disperse. All eyes turned toward the figures that had appeared.
In the middle of the arena, exactly four figures lay on the ground with pools of blood forming around them:
