The arena pulsed with noise, the air alive with shouts and nervous laughter as the duel raged on. Every strike of Aleck's axe and every blur of Beau's blades drew gasps from the crowd.
"He's gonna collapse at this rate!" one student cried, clutching the railing.
"No way—Beau's too reckless, he's gonna burn out first!" another shot back.
Speculations flew like wildfire, splitting the audience down the middle.
At the front row, the professors kept their voices lower, but their words cut sharper.
Darenn leaned forward, arms crossed. "The boy's holding up well… stubbornly so. His control is far from perfect, but he refuses to yield." His tone carried both admiration and unease.
Irving's frown deepened, brows knitting. "He's running on fumes. If that arm lashes out of its own will, he'll hurt himself—or worse, everyone else. Irving thinks this spar may prove too costly."
