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The silky feel of her skin against mine, the taste of her lips, and the gentle cadence of her voice became the pillars grounding me amidst the chaos of combat.
However, leaning so heavily on my natural abilities without the dragon’s augmented power had taken its toll.
As a fighter, I had trained my body to endure, but the combination of day-long battles and passionate nights had pushed me to my limit.
Hunger gnawed at my insides, but even the tantalizing aroma of food couldn’t rouse my appetite.
Instead, I thirsted for water and the comforting embrace of Nova.
With every new fight, I imagined the sensation of her fingers brushing against my skin, the gentle pressure of her lips, and the calming scent of her being.
She had become my lifeline.
My students, sensing my exhaustion, tried to convince me to rest again, their concern evident in their hushed whispers. “Master Ashale, you must take a break,” Jeth, the youngest, implored.
His touch was cool against my overheated skin as he attempted to guide me to a shaded corner.
The ambient noise of the crowd, a blend of cheers, jeers, and the muted conversations of spectators, felt like a constant hum in my ears, threatening to push me over the edge.
I shook my head, gently extricating myself from Jeth’s grasp. “I’m fine,” I lied, the lie evident even to my own ears.
“The final fight is near. I have to be ready.” The mere thought of another confrontation made my head pound, but the pull of the prize — a life with Nova — kept me moving forward.
Cassar, another of my trainees, handed me a flask.
The cool liquid inside quenched my immediate thirst, the sensation of the cold water trickling down my throat, bringing temporary relief. “You’ve done more than anyone could’ve expected,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “But remember, it’s not just physical prowess that will win this. Your mind must be sharp.”
I nodded in appreciation, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders.
Each fight had been a blend of physical combat and mental strategy, the two facets intertwining seamlessly.
Victory, however fleeting, had spurred me on, but now, with the final confrontation looming, doubt crept in.
I could hear the distant sounds of combat from the arena — the clash of metal, the thud of bodies, and the occasional roar of a crowd pleased with the spectacle.
The very air seemed thick with anticipation.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of the preceding bout.
I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the rapid thud of my heart.
With a heavy sigh, I steadied myself, mentally preparing for what was to come.
Nova’s image flashed before my eyes — her radiant smile, the fire in her gaze.
She was my motivation, my driving force.
For her, I would conquer any challenge, no matter how insurmountable it seemed.
Feeling a sudden surge of determination, I squared my shoulders, ready to face whatever awaited me.
But as I approached the entrance to the arena, the gravity of my exhaustion hit me once more.
The whispered conversations around me seemed to grow louder, the shadows darker, the weight of my armor more pronounced.
Each step felt like a herculean effort.
And then, as the entrance gates slowly opened, revealing the silhouette of my final foe, a thought crossed my mind:
