The reality sank into their minds that Ethan had won.
And not by luck.
He had dominated.
Oliver's chest swelled. His fist clenched in the air. "Yes! We won!" he shouted back. Tears shimmered in his eyes, his voice cracking.
At that moment, no one doubted it. Ethan had carved his name into their hearts.
This was not just a victory.
It is like witnessing the birth of a legend.
With Baron Fenwick defeated, no one else came forward to challenge Ethan.
Ethan stood in the arena, his body showing cuts and bruises, but his eyes still sharp. He had hoped that someone else would step out, yet none dared. He even pretended to be exhausted and close to collapse, wanting to lure them. But no one took the bait.
Alas, it seemed he had to be satisfied with this much.
...
Back in his room, the air was filled with a different sound.
Sniff… sniff…
Oliver sat on a chair, wiping his face as he cried openly. His nose ran as his voice cracked.
