"NOOOOO! I DID NOT FORFEIT!!"
The voice roared through the coliseum like thunder, and Arabella let out a deep, weary sigh, shaking her head, already knowing the source.
Razeal leaned to side, glancing over her shoulders toward the source of the voice and then he saw him.
Areon.
Razeal let out a low whistle.
"Damn… he's in deep shit," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "That old dragon really used some quality poison. So cruel he was."
Areon was walking but just barely. His body twisted unnaturally, his face a sickening shade of blue. Veins bulged grotesquely across his face and all body skin, pulsing with agony. One half of his face looked deformed, as if fire itself had scorched and fused with his flesh. Flames burning out from his skin not just igniting it, but feeding off it, as if his very body was fuel for the fire.
