A Warrior’s Respect, A Dragon’s Judgment

Johan stood at the edge of the arena, his body still taut from the lingering adrenaline. The cheers and roars from the crowd began to fade, replaced by murmurs as spectators dissected the techniques and power they had just witnessed.

Taking a deep breath, Johan steadied his breathing. "That was an interesting fight," he muttered, glancing at Skarlith, who was now limping toward the arena's exit. Despite the animosity that had flared between them, Skarlith turned briefly, giving Johan a respectful nod. Johan returned the gesture with a slight tilt of his head, a sincere sign of mutual admiration.

"A true warrior," Johan thought to himself.

However, his calm demeanor didn't escape the watchful eyes of the clan elders seated on the ceremonial platform. Their scales, aged yet radiant, reflected the golden glow of the lanterns. One elder, whose moss-green scales shimmered faintly, leaned toward another.