As the announcer's voice echoed across the arena, declaring the end of the trials, a wave of stunned silence still hung in the air.
The crowd remained frozen—baffled by the sudden twist, the sneak attack that stole victory in the final moments.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the stands.
Some called it unfair.
Others whispered admiration.
But then, slowly…
The cheering returned.
Because in the end, to most of them, it didn't matter who won or who lost.
They hadn't come for honor, fairness, or rules.
They came for spectacle.
And the youth on that field had delivered one hell of a show.
Cheers rose again, louder than before—this time, not for one victor, but for every fighter who'd stepped into that trial.
For every clash.
Every twist.
Every shock that had them on the edge of their seats.
"Heh, that was best."
"Yeah, I had seen my princess Rashira fighting beautifully, now I can die in piece."
"Hah, the top elven girl is way better than the princess."
