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
