In the rest area at the edge of the arena, the mysterious staff in John's hand, its light now restrained, gradually transformed into a cloud of earthy yellow gas under Ymir's guidance.
This gas seeped into John's body, condensing into a deep, special rune on his chest, resembling a miniature version of the staff.
His aura grew even more profound and subdued, pressing down on the ground beneath him, causing it to sink as if it could no longer bear his weight.
John slowly opened his eyes, feeling the surging mana within him and the immense power emanating from his chest. A look of solemn determination appeared on his face.
Three years of painstaking cultivation had led to this moment of settling old scores. The humiliation of being rejected three years ago would be repaid a hundredfold today!
With a step, John pressed down on the ground, causing a deep indentation as he flew up and landed heavily on the arena.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!