"I'm not overestimating him. Just saying," Aaron replied, his eyes locked steadily on Dracula across the vast arena. The words hung in the air, laced with a casual confidence that masked his inner calculations, the distant murmurs of the crowd fading into a low hum behind him.
Dracula stared back at Aaron, his piercing gaze seeming to pierce through the layers of Aaron's thoughts. He could sense the swirling mix of assurance and strategy brewing in his great grandson's mind, the subtle shifts in posture and expression revealing more than words ever could.
But he refrained from saying anything, his lips remaining a thin, impassive line. The potential outcomes branched clearly in his ancient thoughts: either Aaron's confidence would prove justified, allowing him to secure victory while deliberately holding back his full might, or his overconfidence would lead to a humbling defeat, imparting a crucial lesson in tempering one's ego and keeping arrogance firmly in check.
