The field outside Lyranth's walls had been hastily cleared, creating a circle of dead grass a hundred meters wide.
Arthur stood at one edge, the noon sun casting short shadows, while Emperor Lyralei waited at the other. Between them, the air shimmered with heat that had nothing to do with natural weather.
"Standard dueling rules?" Lyralei called out. "First blood, submission, or death?"
"Whatever ends this fastest," Arthur replied, rolling his shoulders. He'd left his armor behind, wearing only simple clothes that wouldn't restrict movement.
His System hummed with readiness, displaying tactical options he ignored. This wouldn't be won by statistics.
Through his bonds, he felt his women watching from the walls. Beatrice's magical theory burned in his mind—her System Disruptor concept she'd explained in hurried whispers. Theoretical, untested, probably suicidal. Perfect.
