TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR

Rafaela, standing beside Kent, furrowed her brows as she glanced at Alaric, who was barely standing yet still radiating a fierce fighting spirit.

"We should finish this quickly," she suddenly suggested, turning to Kent. "Helen and I can handle it."

Helen, the gloomy dark magic user, simply nodded, her eerie aura pulsating like a shadow waiting to consume its prey.

But Kent merely raised a hand, stopping them both.

A calm yet absolute refusal.

"No need," Kent said, his smile unwavering. "I'll do it myself."

'Looks like there is no saving him then'

Rafaela sighed but didn't push further as she looked at the 13 years old in pity. As for Helen, she just tilted her head, offering no further argument.

Meanwhile, across the arena—

Alaric, still gasping for air, planted his feet firmly on the cracked arena floor.

His blood boiled.

His pride roared.

'it is now or never'

If this was his last stand—