Jake looked at the familiar man entering the arena across from him. The Battlemaster, or Warmaster, had swapped his practical clothes and simple garments for a set of full plate armor, and now wielded a sword and a shield. He walked into the arena with heavy steps, and Jake had to admit his aura had spiked quite a bit.
Despite their conversation only minutes before, they once more met in the middle of the jam-packed arena. Because, yes, even if they had scheduled their fight and started… nine minutes after it had been scheduled, the stands had still been filled to the brim. It made no sense at all, and Jake was honestly getting tired of constantly questioning it. The feeling of annoyance just lived rent-free in his head.
“Looking good there; nice equipment,” Jake complimented the Warmast
