As Noah stepped out of the arena's archway, the roar of murmuring voices still echoing behind him. Arlo fell into step beside him with his usual grin.
"That was amazing!" Arlo said, practically bouncing as he walked. "You really hammered him. Did you see his face? I mean, obviously you did, you were the one punching it. But still!"
Noah didn't respond.
Instead, he looked down at his arms, where Ben's blood claws had torn through his sleeves and into skin.
The wounds throbbed with every heartbeat, blood drying against the cloth. His shoulder burned, and his ribs ached. His fists were sore from punching bone.
"How did you dodge the Blood Armament?" Arlo asked again, eyes hidden behind his blindfold but his voice filled with curiosity. "That skill should've turned you into minced meat."
Noah kept walking. His voice came quiet, flat. "Which way's the infirmary?"
Arlo stopped mid-step. "Wait, what?"
"I forgot." Noah said. "My side hurts."
