As Bone Crusher's body was dragged out of the arena by two attendants, the murmurs in the crowd began to die down. Noel remained standing, chest rising and falling, blood soaking the side of his green uniform. The pain in his ribs throbbed with each breath, but he didn't show it.
From the stairwell near the arena's edge, Torwan descended—still wearing the same mask as before. His steps were calm, unhurried.
He approached without theatrics, stopping just a few feet from Noel.
"You held up better than I expected," he said. "Not many accept that kind of invitation and walk out."
Noel didn't answer immediately. He stood tall, gaze steady.
"You said I had to prove myself. I did."
Torwan gave a small nod.
"You did."
Balthor entered from the stands a few seconds later, his pace slower, more measured. When he spotted Torwan, his eyes lingered just a second too long. Something flickered in his expression—quiet, restrained, something not quite spoken.
