The dust on Arena Number Two settled after a grueling sequence of combat. Ten matches, ten tests of endurance. For Liam, the tally was a humbling one: eight losses and two hard-fought victories. His body felt like it had been put through a mechanical press, every muscle screaming in protest as the adrenaline began to recede, leaving only a dull, throbbing ache behind.
As Liam stepped down from the raised stone platform, wiping a mixture of sweat and grit from his brow, he scanned the surrounding crowd for Leon. The flamboyant violet robes were nowhere to be seen.
"Master Leon departed some time ago, Young Master," Wolf reported, holding out a clean towel and a flask of water. "He claimed he could no longer bear to witness your 'wretched state.' Before he left, he muttered something abou
