“Here we are then.”

Metz’ voice died in the expanse as he looked around the shadowy Arena, taking in the impressive statues that surrounded him. They were a disconcerting sight, he certainly hadn’t expected to be fighting in such strange surroundings. He supposed he was expecting a more traditional arena, with screaming crowds and blood and gore. The quiet darkness all around him was somehow far worse. It was also a little cold.

He ran his hand through his reddish-brown hair and waited, with little else to occupy his time until the strange humanoid wolf he had to engage arrived. He took the time to mentally check through his equipment, adorning his six foot frame was a simple green woollen jumper and tough brown trousers, with black boots. However, underneath his woollen jumper he wore a form-fitting underlay suit famed for being able to resist gunshot at range, and visibly on top he was equipped with a patched together knife-proof vest. Fairly well armoured, considering his talents, he was also armed to deal some damage of his own. Across his chest a curved knife lay in its sheath, and at his right hip his Fire-Type pistol was holstered. 

He allowed the backpack to fall off his shoulders to the ground, freeing up his body for more elaborate movements as he warmed up with a few shoulder rolls. He kicked it to one side of the outside platform he was stood upon, turning his head to release the pressure. On top of his more obvious weapons he had a few extra rounds for his pistol, of course, and more importantly he had four vials on his belt. Two of them were filled with Pure Mana, one was empty, and the last was swirling with the darkness of Corrupt Mana. Those were the Mage’s real weapons, soon his foe would learn the meaning of his nickname, The Pillar Elementalist.