"I don't accept it. I am not done yet."
Lucas Hale's voice echoed through the arena.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
And then he moved.
His legs burst into motion, fire coiling around his arms like twin serpents as he charged straight at Medona.
Elizabeth's hand shot up. "Stop! The match is…."
But before she could finish, Medona shifted her stance.
She didn't panic. She didn't even blink.
As Lucas leapt forward with a flaming punch, she sidestepped with ease, spun her spear once, and slammed the shaft across his legs. He lost balance in midair.
And then….
Bang!
Medona twisted and pinned him to the ground in a single motion, her spear pressed sideways against his chest, her boot over his arm.
Lucas groaned in pain, his face twisting.
The audience watched in stunned silence.
The same boy who looked so composed just a minute ago was now flat on the ground, eyes burning with a mix of anger… and humiliation.
Leonard also had a gloomy face in the gallery.
