The crowd fell silent, their cheers fading into stunned murmurs. The only sound was the crackling of the bonfire and the heavy breathing of the fighters.
The Overseer stepped forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene. His lips pressed into a thin line, his disapproval evident.
"This... display," he began, waving his hand on the air his voice cold and measured, "may have entertained the crowd, but it has done little to prove your worth."
Jayla's ears twitched, and she opened her mouth to retort, but I stepped forward, cutting her off. "We're not here to prove anything," I said, meeting the Overseer's gaze. "We're here because we need your help. The Lycan is coming, whether you believe it or not. And when she does, you'll wish you had allies."
The Overseer's expression remained unchanged, but I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Before he could respond, Eamon stepped forward, his armor catching the firelight.
