The arena cracked with noise... half mockery, half awe.
Seeing this, Miyu paused. A quiet grief brushed through her chest as she bit her lower lip, masking the feeling behind a grin. This was exactly what the stage demanded, what the crowd wanted—to see her dominate. And yet, somewhere beneath that roar of approval, guilt flickered. She didn't want to humiliate him.
Still, she had to play her part.
Eran stirred. His hand pressed against the stage floor as he pushed himself up to one knee. The faint shimmer of violet still clung to his skin, fading slowly. He lifted his gaze, and for a heartbeat, their eyes met.
A silent understanding passed between them.
He gave a faint smirk—one only Miyu could read, as if to say go on… I'll handle it.
Miyu's jaw tightened, but she nodded almost imperceptibly.
Meanwhile, Eran's thoughts flickered beneath that calm exterior.
