As the crowd began to disperse, the noise of the arena slowly faded into the background. Lucy stepped off the battlefield, her posture relaxed yet purposeful.
The thrill of her recent victory still lingered in her veins, though it had been disappointingly easy. She craved more—a real challenge, something that could push her limits.
As she made her way out, a familiar energy caught her attention. Her senses sharpened, and her eyes instinctively scanned the stands. There, seated in quiet authority, was Roxana, her master, watching her with an intense gaze.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Lucy's lips, and she immediately adjusted her demeanor, her usual fierce expression softening as she approached.
"Master," she greeted respectfully, offering a slight bow of acknowledgment. Her voice held a mixture of reverence and confidence, a disciple acknowledging her teacher's presence.
