The roar of the crowd filled the arena as Neith, with her usual unflappable calm, stood before her opponent, a towering Mexican warrior. He wore a jaguar mask that covered half of his face, his muscular torso adorned with tribal tattoos that seemed to glow under the sunlight.
"It's a shame," the Aztec warrior commented, his voice firm but respectful. "Your companion may have won, but what good is it if she can't continue?"
Neith stared at him without showing any emotion. "Even if she could, we've already decided to fight one by one."
Without further delay, she raised a hand and began murmuring words in a language forgotten by time. The air around her grew heavy, charged with an ancient energy that silenced the crowd. From the ground, a golden circle began to form, filled with ancient symbols that glowed with increasing intensity.
