C637 A Huge Harvest

The acrid stench of blood quickly permeated the arena, drawing everyone's gaze to the defeated combatant, his face obscured by a black mask.

It was the black mask!

"Good."

A Friecaian spectator leapt to his feet, bellowing with excitement and bursting into raucous laughter.

His laughter seemed to light a fuse, setting off a wave of cheers that rippled through the crowd