Part 2 —
The roar of the crowd had not yet faded.
It was a sound like distant thunder, rolling endlessly across the great arena, yet its weight seemed far away from Leo's thoughts.
His chest still rose and fell in steady, deliberate breaths, each inhalation carrying the faint metallic tang of battle that still lingered in the air.
The faint echoes of steel striking steel remained etched in his mind, remnants of the fight that had pushed both him and Rio to their limits.
The arena floor beneath his boots felt solid yet oddly hollow now that the clash had ended.
Every scuff mark, every gouge in the stone, bore silent testimony to the relentless exchange of blades.
A faint dust hung in the air, stirred by the faintest breeze.
It drifted lazily, as if even the wind itself hesitated to break the stillness that followed such intensity.
Leo's gaze, sharp yet calm, shifted from the emptying stands toward the far end of the arena.
