And the crowd knew, even in the rising cheers and laughter, that this was only the beginning.
The arena remained silent long after Dan and Prince Kyle lowered their swords. Dust hung in the air, glittering faintly as sunlight caught it, a reminder of the fury and intensity that had just passed. Both fighters stood on opposite ends of the platform, their chests rising and falling with controlled, measured breaths. Sweat glistened across their brows and ran down their temples in thin rivulets, catching the light like molten gold.
Their uniforms were scorched and torn in places, yet they stood unbowed, unbroken. Neither bore the look of defeat, yet neither carried the full pride of victory. The outcome had been clear to all who watched: no one had lost, but no one had won either.
