Chapter 900 Category Three Battlefield

• “Do not gloat. Your victory was sheer chance,” the Okeanos Tribe Commander snarled. “There are Celestial prodigies—monsters of our bloodline—who have sealed themselves away. They have not emerged from seclusion. When they do, your species will crumble.”
• The commander's voice slipped out, cold as reef stone, reverberating across the scorched arena. He meant those words to patch the pride he had torn in their earlier defeat, to wrestle back a shred of dignity. In response, the surrounding Celestial champions loosed thin, razored chuckles, the sound of glaciers cracking under moonlight.
• “So the mortals stole the first match—so what?” the Celestials scoffed.