The arena was heavy with the weight of the moment. The roars of the crowd had subsided to murmurs as every eye fixated on the scene before them. Drakarra, the fearsome warrior who had struck terror into the hearts of so many, was now on her knees, her body shaking from exhaustion and defeat. James stood across from her, his dragonborn power still thrumming around him, a tangible force that seemed to make the very air vibrate with energy.
But despite her weakened state, Drakarra wasn't finished yet. James could see it in her eyes, the flicker of madness, the refusal to accept defeat. Her lips curled into a sneer, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to rise, her muscles trembling with the effort.
"You think… you've won," she spat, her voice raspy and low, but laced with venom. "You think… this is the end?" She let out a ragged, guttural laugh, one that echoed in the silent arena. "You have no idea… what you've started."
