The silence was absolute.
It pressed against my ears like a physical weight and filled the courtyard from the packed earth beneath my feet to the grey sky above. No one moved. No one spoke. No one even seemed to breathe. The hundreds of northerners who had crowded every available space stood frozen, their faces masks of shock and disbelief.
I stood in the center of the ring, my chest heaving, my body screaming with pain from a dozen bruises and cuts. The golden light had faded completely now, retreating to the ember in my core, but its warmth lingered—a reminder of what I had done, what I had become.
Runa lay on the ground at my feet.
She stared up at me, her eyes wide, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She remained still and made no effort to rise. She simply looked at me, and in her gaze, I saw the same shock that gripped the crowd. She had been winning. She had been moments from victory. And then...
