"Warrior Enra, do you yield or do you wish to continue...?" asked Tarka, his tone neutral and gaze calm as he eyed his son, hunched over, cradling his abdomen, and kneeling a short distance from Will, whose right fist pulsed with a thin but durable veil of pale green Aura. Ordinarily, asking a Warrior if they wished to continue was considered extremely rude, but Tarka was doing his son a favor, as the match should have ended when his hand and knee touched the ground against his will.
"I will continue...!" growled Enra, his fluffy tail, which was nearly as long as he was tall, slapping the ground behind him as he dug his fingers into the ground, palms facing Will, and lifted a large section of hardened soil like he was flipping a tatami mat.
