"You..." Yuri's voice was low, a frown deepening on his brow. His mind raced back to their last encounter, the duel that had left a mark—unfinished, unresolved. Lyon had slipped through his fingers before they could settle the score.
A sudden pulse of energy rippled through Yuri, and the Black Kirin within him materialized, a miniature version of the majestic beast perched on his shoulder. Its eyes gleamed with ancient wisdom as it whispered, "Careful, boy."
Around the arena, the patriarchs and matriarchs turned their probing gazes toward Lyon. For a moment, confusion flickered in their eyes, all of them trying to measure the man who now stood at the center of attention. But the harder they tried, the more elusive his true strength became, leaving them puzzled—except for Atrum. He had already faced Lyon once, and his knowing silence spoke volumes.
