The voice of the announcer resounded so loudly around the masses that every single person composing the crowd was forced to listen to him whether they wanted to or not. Even if one were to cover his ears (and some actually tried), they would still hear some partially muted and impossible to understand sound perfectly capable of causing a headache to the most patient of spectators. If Lyr had to choose a single word to describe what he thought of the announcer, it would have to be 'aggravating'; if he could use more, however, it would be 'so annoying it is physically painful'. Then again, he was one to react badly to anything loud.
Lyr looked like he had forgotten about the ceremony and had appeared at the last possible moment, as he had ended up quite far at the back of the crowd and his low head suggested he had woken up just a few minutes ago. Despite this, however, Lyr easily drew attention to himself, as, despite the huge crowd and people pushing each other to have some space, he had a radius of 1m of free space all to himself. It could be his partially covered and menacing-looking eyes, or the huge scars on his face and neck, or maybe the two lances with their tips wrapped in cloth hanging diagonally on his back, but for some reason people tended to keep some distance from him. It wasn't like there weren't scarier-looking fighters out there, but that didn't change the fact that he indeed looked more like a serial killer rather than a warrior to many. However, him being as distracted as he was, had yet to notice both the image he was giving away and the big space he always seemed to have around him. This was probably the reason why finding partners to form a team for the arena was giving him such a hard time.
While initially tired and clearly uninterested in the ceremony, the voice had the desired effect on Lyr and his eyes were drawn towards the stage where the figures of the three new Phoenixians had appeared while he wasn't looking. The announcer proceeded to present them to the crowd one by one, starting with Akira, the Hunter. Being a Bladesman himself, it was only natural that Akira was the one Lyr showed most attention for; while he saw him with envy and resentment, he couldn't help but also feel respect and even admiration for him. It wasn't just because of his impressive history of being a Draconian for less than a year, but also for his mastery of the weapons; just looking at his equipment at that moment, one could tell he was one of the most (if not THE most) complete Hunters around, and he probably could use more weapons than those. Rylar, the Sapper, was a more mysterious individual; other than his strategy in conjunction with Akira not many knew much about him. What was he like? Where did he come from? Lyr was one of the many people who couldn't answer those questions.
As for Misu, the Enchantress, word had it that she didn't really deserve the spot she was being given amongst the best, but Lyr couldn't really declare such a thing himself. It was hard for him to tell the skill level of an Enchanter unless the difference in rank was really big; nonetheless, he trusted the judgement of others who did know about the subject and there seemed to be little to no objection to this claim to begin with. There had to be a reason why two geniuses would put up with her and even help her become a Phoenixian though, and that was precisely why many found her almost as mysterious as Rylar.
"Borin' like always, ey?" an aggressive female voice sounded beside Lyr, waking him up from his inner thoughts.
"...eh?" it took Lyr a few seconds to react to the sudden interaction and realized he was being talked to. It was a woman with a wild appearance who had entered the circle of free space caused by the man. It wasn't surprising that she wasn't intimidated by him; if he looked like a serial killer to many, then she would look like a psychotic one. He studied her for a few seconds; he didn't remember seeing her anywhere in the middle-ranking arenas, which meant she was most likely either a low or elite-ranking combatant. As the possibility of recruiting her for a team faded in Lyr's head, so did his interest in her. "Yeah well, there's no way around it, is there?" he responded while putting on a weak smile which prompted a quick and concise laugh from her. "They are going to stay for a while, aren't they?"
"Aye, that, they will..." the woman nodded as she agreed with Lyr, a wide and somehow savage smile planted on her face. "They'll have it real smooth too. Nobody'll be challengin' 'em in a long while after what they did to the previous #1s. Strategy of fear, know what I mean?"
A weak grunt emerged from Lyr's mouth in a sign of acknowledgement. He had seen the remains of the previous Phoenixians and he still didn't know exactly how they could have been human at some point. Hell, even he was terrified at the thought of facing any of them, so even if he had the rank and status to be allowed to challenge them, he definitely wouldn't, at least not until he forgot the image of their last opponents' remains. They probably had put on that brutal show on purpose exactly to achieve that: making sure nobody will even think of challenging them. After all, if they were just strong and had won a match, they wouldn't last very long as the best arena fighters. He sighed discouragingly at the thought of how that would apply to politics; he didn't like thinking about those things, but it didn't change the fact that it affected all of them.
"Well!" once the ceremony had ended and the public was freed from it, Lyr stretched his body lazily and turned to the woman. "Might as well get to work while we can; I got a long way before I can get my word in any of this." That said, he bid farewell with a gesture and made his way out of the crowd
"Aight, g'luck, pal. Hope to see ya 'round soon", the woman responded with a gesture of her own and headed the opposite direction.
Lyr's priority at the moment was forming a team; even if he still had to rank up to rank 9 and earn a nomination before he could enter the elite, it would be much easier to form a team now. After all, most high-ranking competitors most likely already had a solid team formed from when they were lower-ranking, and it would be much harder to join one of these than forming one while still in the middle tier. He had had no luck lately, which was precisely why he needed to spend more time trying to find the appropriate people. He was beginning to think that going around with a sign advertising his team could be a better idea than he had initially thought.