Draven.
The sun was sharp this afternoon, throwing long shadows across the sandpit.
I stood with my arms folded, watching the three warriors line up. Across from them, Dennis loosened his shoulders, looking calm but focused. He knew he had to take this match seriously.
At my side, Meredith shifted. I didn’t need to look at her—the bond let me feel her unease pulling at me, tight and insistent. But then her voice came, soft, and laced with worry.
"Is it really okay for Dennis to fight all three of them at once?"
I turned my head and caught her eyes. Those violet irises searched mine like I might change my mind if she looked hard enough. But I never planned to do that.
"It’s fine," I told her with a steady tone. "Dennis can handle himself. Watch closely, and you will learn a lot from this match."
Her mouth pressed into a line; obviously, she didn’t believe me. I could feel it as clearly as if she had said it out loud.
I leaned closer and lowered my voice so only she would hear. "If you are this worried for your friend, then protect him next time."
She blinked up at me, confused. "Protect him? What do you mean?"
I turned back to the sandpit and fixed my eyes on Dennis. "I can kill for your sake, Meredith," I said evenly. "Anyone who disturbs your peace will answer to me. No matter who they are."
Through the bond, I felt the flutter of her heart, the way my words hit her harder than she wanted to admit.
She took a quick breath but didn’t reply to me, so I left it hanging between us.
Just then, the horn sounded, cutting through the air, signalling the start of the match.
Dennis moved quickly, going straight for the man on the left, slipping under his swing and driving an elbow into his ribs. The crunch echoed, forcing the man back.
"Good. He’s cutting the numbers before they surround him," I said to Meredith’s hearing, pointing out my observations so she could learn the strategy as well.
The other two charged forward, and Dennis used the staggered warrior as a shield, pivoting to land a clean knee and a follow-up strike immediately.
His timing was sharper than I remembered. It looks like he has been practising more with his fists than with his mouth, as I had thought.
Just then, the tallest one managed to catch Dennis’s arm mid-swing. Meredith gasped beside me, her worry sharp through the bond.
"He’s fine," I murmured, my eyes remaining on the fight.
Dennis twisted with the grab, countering with the man’s own strength, and dropped him to the sand.
He didn’t pause at that. The next moment, he caught the last warrior with a hard kick to the chest, which sent him stumbling.
I let out a slow breath. "Not bad. But he is wearing out."
Sweat rolled down his back, and his breath was harsher now. Three against one was built to grind endurance. And I could see his muscles straining with every strike.
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