Tournament: Varen
As Lira stepped out of the ring, her movements graceful and measured, Marquis Ventor's admired quietly.
'Not bad.'
He turned slightly toward the elders at his side, his gaze flickering with a hint of appreciation. "Indeed," he said, his tone smooth, almost indulgent, "she is not only strong but truly striking to behold. A force of beauty and skill combined."
Elder Xue allowed herself a rare smile, pride evident in her expression. "Thank you, Marquis," she replied, inclining her head slightly. "Our Lira has worked hard to reach this level. Her diligence reflects the standards of our sect."
Elder Kael, however, snorted derisively, his tone laced with contempt as he watched Lira exit the arena. "Praise for a trifle," he muttered, his voice loud enough for both the Marquis and Elder Xue to hear. "It's hardly impressive to defeat a nameless whelp. Any true disciple of a proper sect wouldn't waste time on such a weakling."