Rivan tore backward, ripping his blade free before Valenna drained the last drop of its glow. He stumbled two steps—small, but enough for the stands to erupt in confused murmurs. House Estrix attendants leaned forward, suddenly unsure.
Rivan stared at his sword as if it had betrayed him. The runes flickered, unstable. His breath hitched.
"What—did you—"
Soren rose from his knee without hurry.
"You leaned on the blade instead of yourself," he said. "That's the mistake."
Rivan's jaw clenched so hard the tendons stood out like cords. Rage, humiliation, disbelief—he wore them all like fresh scars. He came in again, reckless for the first time.
'Good,' Valenna whispered.
Rivan slashed wide, strength over technique. Soren slid past the swing, pivoting on the ball of his foot, and struck Rivan's ribs with the flat of his blade—not enough to break bone, but enough to knock the breath from his lungs and send him staggering sideways.
Rivan gasped, knees dipping.
"S-stand and fight—!"
