"So… did I pass?" Razeal askedas if he were asking about the weather rather than the result of a violent exchange that had just shaken the entire colosseum. He stood relaxed in the center of the arena, posture loose, shoulders lowered, not even bothering to raise his guard. His eyes were fixed on Arthur not with mockery or aggression, but with a quiet, assessing curiosity.
Arthur, on the other hand, stood several meters away.. still frozen with himself.
Blood dripped steadily from his face.
It slid down the bridge of his broken nose, smeared across his lips, stained his chin, and fell into the shallow water coating the arena floor, blooming outward in faint crimson ripples. His palm was still raised in front of him, fingers trembling slightly as he stared at the blood covering it, as if his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.
He was bleeding.
That fact alone felt unreal.
