A lion who could no longer lift his head, who had tasted defeat so bitter it hollowed him out, would be seen as tainted.
Even if Arthur spared the creature's life, the damage had been done. His humiliation was complete and irreversible under ordinary circumstances.
The Golden Beetle knew there would be no forgiveness. Whether the golden mane lived or died here mattered little. The rest of the pack would not overlook this. They would see it as a direct challenge, a mark of dishonour upon their kind that demanded retribution. Arthur had stepped beyond the boundary of simple conflict. He had struck at something deeper, the soul of their pride.
And once that line was crossed, there was no turning back.
