The rules of the ring, folks:
The champ holds the center. He does not run. He does not hide. Meteors rain in from every corner of the dark, every single one aimed at that magnificent mane.
His answer? The roar.
Hold your finger down and watch the mane charge — the glow swells, the crowd holds its breath. Let go, and the shockwave bursts outward like a golden sunrise, shattering every meteor it touches into glittering gold.
But listen close, because this is where champions are made: release at FULL mane and the judges award a FULL ROAR bonus. Release too early and the wave falls short. Too late, and the rocks are already at your whiskers.
Three hits strip the mane and the bout is over. The Mane Ward knots absorb one blow.
Between rounds, the Pride Trophies tent is open: Golden Pride doubles your gold, Dusk Lull slows the whole meteor rain, and the Ninth Life — well, the name says it all.
One finger. One lion. One endless rain of rocks.