"You saw the battle," he said, his gaze locking with Calvane's. "Every strike, every movement, every breath—I fought with my own hands, my own blade. Nothing more. Nothing less. If that is what you find suspicious…"
He let the words hang for a heartbeat, his smile deepening ever so slightly, "then perhaps the fault lies not in my actions, but in your judgment clouded by something else."
The crowd erupted again in murmurs, some nodding in agreement with Edwin, others glancing at Calvane with uncertainty.
Calvane's gauntleted hand twitched dangerously near the hilt of his sword.
His jaw tightened, and his eyes locked on Edwin with the sharpness of drawn steel. The crowd felt the weight of that gesture immediately — a single wrong word and the arena floor could become a battlefield.
