Leona and Xander moved toward Sylvia, standing beside her with wine glasses in hand.
Leona had a plate to the side—no, not a plate—a tray stacked with food. Seeing someone's arm get sliced off hadn't even made her blink, much less lose her appetite. She took a bite, chewed slowly, then downed her drink.
"Hmm. He's really holding back."
Xander glanced at her. "You shouldn't eat and talk... but yes. He's only cutting off their arms."
Their casual commentary didn't go unnoticed.
But the other nobles were too stunned to speak. Sure, he'd been challenged to a duel. Sure, the terms were fair. But still—he was a commoner. And here he was, calmly dismantling noble sons like weeds.
A disgrace. A scandal. A monster.
A pity they didn't know Damon Grey better. If they did, they'd understand.
He wouldn't have cared either way.
The duel might have spared him legal consequences, but it had earned him enemies. Bad impressions. Resentment.
Still, Damon wasn't done.
