Third Person's POV
CLANG!
The sound reverberated through the silent room.
Ethan was truly satisfied as he ran his fingers along the blade and felt the intricate engravings and the unique hammerhead spike that formed its handguard.
The weapon was a masterpiece with a regal and menacing aura that developed fear in its opponents.
The crowd remained silent and their earlier cheers were now replaced by a mix of awe and unease.
Ethan's performance had been nothing short of extraordinary. It was a display of skill and power that defied his apparent age and rank.
The warden grinned faintly and, without a word, tossed him a dull rectangular metal tag that shimmered softly under the dim lighting.
Ethan caught it effortlessly and gave it a slight heft in his palm.
"Mark it with a drop of your blood, young man," the warden said with an easy tone though the depth in his eyes was hard to read.