The arena was quiet. Smoke and dust lingered in the air from the clash.
Tongen's voice cut across the field.
"Enough. Stop the fight."
The students whispered. Raken frowned, squaring himself like a man who hadn't been told no in a long time.
"What? We weren't done yet!"
Tongen ignored him. He stepped into the arena at a measured pace — no rush, no performance — and the murmurs died simply because he had arrived. His presence alone made the crowd fall silent the way a flame makes a room go still when it first ignites: sudden, total, and complete.
"This ends here," he said.
Raken looked at him for a moment, jaw working like he was chewing on something bitter. Then the tension drained from his posture, replaced by that loose, practiced smirk that never quite reached his eyes.
"Fine… we'll continue another day."
