The open courtyard of the arena lay bathed in the fading light of late afternoon, the sky heavy with brooding gray clouds that seemed to reflect the intensity of the battles that had unfolded below
The sandy expanse was scarred with the marks of combat, footprints, shallow trenches, and streaks of churned dirt bore witness to the ferocity of the tournament's final rounds
The crimson banners strung between weathered stone pillars fluttered lazily now, the restless wind having died down as if in deference to the moment
The stands encircling the arena were a sea of faces, the spectators' voices rising in a crescendo of cheers that shook the very air, their excitement a living, breathing force that pulsed through the duchy
In the center of the arena, Gon stood tall, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, sweat glistening on his brow
His sword was sheathed at his side, the blade still warm from the heat of battle, and his dark eyes glinted with the quiet satisfaction of victory
