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The respect in its eyes was unmistakable.
Without uttering a word, it stepped back, conceding the match.
A cheer erupted from the crowd, the sound filling the pit and vibrating through my bones.
Amidst the jubilation, my focus remained on Grace.
Her eyes sparkled with pride, and for a moment, our gazes locked.
It was a silent exchange, a promise that I would do whatever it took to ensure our future together.
Feeling a renewed vigor, I raised my weapon high, saluting the audience, before turning my gaze back to the path ahead.
There were still more battles to face, but with Grace by my side and the knowledge I held, victory was within my grasp.
I was through to the final round.
* * *
The anticipation in the pit was electric, the atmosphere thick with expectation.
My next opponent was a Shalari, a species from a desert planet where relentless winds sculpted the landscape and the inhabitants alike.
Standing before me, he looked somewhat like a terrestrial humanoid but had thin, gossamer wings extending from his back to his ankles.
I’d heard tales about the Shalari’s ability to harness the wind, but seeing it firsthand was another matter.
I inhaled deeply, tasting the dry, stale air of the pit.
Beneath my boots, the ground felt cool and unyielding.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the steady hum of machinery and the occasional shout of encouragement or dismay from the crowd.
The Shalari wasted no time, immediately summoning gusts of wind that whirled around us.
It wasn’t just the physical prowess I was battling against but the very elements.
Sand, carried by his winds, stung my eyes and made my mouth gritty.
The roar of the wind was deafening, and I could barely hear the crowd’s reactions.
We clashed, his wind-driven speed giving him an edge.
More than once, I was thrown off balance, the wind tugging and pushing, making each move a gamble.
With every assault he grew more confident, and I could smell his excitement, a musky aroma that hinted at the desert storms of his homeland.
As we danced around each other, a fleeting memory surfaced — a snippet of a conversation I’d once overheard regarding the Shalari’s culture.
They had fears, like all species.
I just needed to remember…
In a risky move, I dove into one of the many pockets in my armor, pulling out a two-headed snake I had collected to disable a different opponent.
The creature hissed, its forked tongues tasting the air.
I had hoped the sight would paralyze the Shalari with fear.
