One hour passed faster than anyone expected, and the referee came again to call the two finalists.
When the finalists returned to the arena, the mood had changed.
Earlier there had been excitement, but now there was hope and worry.
They knew their giant had a higher chance of falling. He was battered and bleeding. They had also seen how strong the swordsman was, even when using a practice weapon made of wood.
Thane walked into the arena, the wooden axe swinging in the air as he walked.
His body was hurting and begging for rest. His ribs turned breathing into suffering, his face was swollen and torn, and his legs had no strength to hold his weight. There was not a place on him that did not ache.
Across from him stood Etno Kamsi. The swordsman looked as composed as ever.
Calm, uninjured, and very confident in his sword.
He gazed at Thane, and his eyes were different. No leniency could be seen this time. That gaze bothered Thane more than anything.
