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Which echoed from the ground-level spectators to the high-born’s expectant faces.
The various eyries’ colourful krests, wild banners, and trailing flags added to the celebratory atmosphere.
As Sana’a stepped into the ring, the weight of anticipation pressed down on her like a heavy cloak.
K?stian’s theatrics and vocalisation also hinted at desperation as his wings unfurled over the arena to introduce Sana’a and K’grona.
As the two fighters circled each other in the air, the audience held their collective breath, most not even daring to blink. The tension and adrenaline were palpable, like an electric current running through the atmosphere.
‘Someone rattle some sab?rs so that we can turn shit up,’ Sana’a murmured, impatience lacing her barely-there whisper.
K?stian must have picked up on her muttering because after shooting her a warning glance, he let out a roar.
Kag?an’s eyes blazed, and the contest was on.
In seconds, K’grona launched his might on Sana’a.
Each blow landed by either combatant sent a wave of cheers or gasps rippling through the crowd.
The fight was as brutal and intense as everyone had predicted.
K’grona was a force to be reckoned with, and the Shotelai woman had to give it her all to keep up.
At one point, his eyes reddened and turned all black.
He had dark kätu that flowed in his veins, just like Kaniz had warned.
She sensed its brutality in K’grona’s every move, feeling his ruthlessness in his hits, kicks and blocks.
Oblivious to the kav’s jacked-up form, the stadium roared, their voices echoing off the walls.
K’grona, with his imposing figure and cruel glint in his eyes, was relentless. She jolted with the realisation that she was no match for his strength, real-life skills, and aggression.
Her sweaty, soaked skin glistened in the flaming light of Kag?an’s eyes. Still, she dodged his forceful blows and returned with swift and precise strikes.
Their blades continued to clash, each swipe leaving its mark. It was a bitter battle, with neither opponent yielding.
Their match was a battle of wills as much as a physical showdown. Lunges, parries, and blocks filled the air, each fighter trying to gain the upper hand.
Sana’a turned to her unconventional wildness and amped it up.
She began to find openings in her opponent’s guard, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks that left K’grona reeling.
When her blade struck him in the side and ripped through his rachís, the arena lost its collective mind.
He reeled back, bleeding, wounded, flailing through the air.
Snapping forward, his hand reached for something.
At that moment, Sana’a could have sworn he caught an object in his hand tossed from a Kän?dôr on the edge of the fighting ring.
He snapped upright, unleashing a sab?r in his hand, unlike any she’d seen before.
It dripped with tendrils of black íkan.
‘You’re mine now,’ he whispered.
Sana’a’s eyes widened.
