As Damon was turning to walk away, the mana in the arena slowly dissipated in shimmering wisps as Damon sheathed BloodReaper into the crimson void at his side.
From the side, a robed attendant rushed forward with a glowing vial in hand, a high-grade healing potion encased in a diamond-shaped flask.
Kneeling beside Leiron, the attendant popped the cork and gently poured its luminous contents into the corner of Leiron's mouth.
The effect was near-instant.
The bruises began to fade, torn flesh knitted together, and his mana flow,while still erratic, began to stabilize. Leiron coughed once, then twice, before pushing himself to his feet with a groan.
He wiped his mouth and looked at Damon with a more composed gaze.
"That was… humbling," Leiron said, "I thought I was strong. But you fought like someone who's danced with death and learned its rhythm."
Damon turned around and nodded slightly, merely watching without speaking a word.
