Chapter 8
Scarlett's POV
When my blade touched his shoulder, his smile disappeared—and from that moment, the game began.
He lunged at me. I dodged quickly. Too quickly. The crowd erupted in cheers. His fist swung through the air where I had just been standing. I slammed the hilt of my sword into his ribs—hard. He growled, swung his sword low, but I leapt up, driving my elbow hard into his chin. He stumbled. He swung again—I blocked, twisted, and drove my knee into his gut. He crashed to the ground. As he tried to rise, I stepped on his chest and raised my sword.
I commanded boldly, "Yield."
And he did.
A shout rang out. The circle broke. My veins still pumped with adrenaline. My pack surrounded me, pride written across their faces. They smiled and nodded—I basked in all of it.
I felt even prouder when some comrades clapped me on the back and others bowed their heads in respect.
"It's freezing," Coby muttered with a crooked grin as he stood up.
"Only cruelty gets results," I replied, wiping sweat

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