"I think he'll win the whole thing," a third person said, her voice calm yet certain.
She was a woman with her head wrapped in a shawl, her sharp eyes peering out from beneath the fabric as she spoke.
The others glanced at her, some nodding in agreement, while others remained skeptical.
Before anyone could respond, a man sitting in front of them turned back, his expression clearly unimpressed.
With a sharp hiss, he scoffed, "Tchh! The boy won't even make it past this round."
His tone carried nothing but dismissal, as if the very idea of Milo winning was laughable.
He shook his head, resting an elbow on his knee as he glanced toward the battlefield. "He's strong, sure. But arrogance is his weakness. You saw how he toyed with his last opponent, he likes to play, and that will be his downfall."
