As Zariel stood poised within his box, conscious of the eruption of the entirety of the colosseum, casting waves of motions far and wide, he focused his awareness on Beowulf. He recognized Beowulf as a Master of Intent, a rare title bestowed upon those who could guard their Intent inside their heart with their Domain and even extend it several meters around their body, as Beowulf had done.
It was spectacularly done.
Even amongst the denizens of the Higher Realms, such sublime mastery of the Spirit was an irregularity.
In all his years, Zariel had only met a handful who could potentially do what Beowulf had done.
The crowd of onlookers, caught in the grip of awe and admiration, grew ever wilder with elation. They drummed their feet across the stands, chanting 'Beowulf' in a rhythmic cadence that echoed throughout the Colosseum.
The person I based Arsene on, Zariel's brother, did something similar to me. I stand by the Nut Shot War that has raged for over a decade.
Mortal Mastery
Novice
Advance
Expert
Master
Spirit Mastery
Truth
Soul
Void