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The Fight with the Undead      

Nyx watched the unfolding scene with a wry smirk, her gaze fixed on David, bound and bloodied, the final glimmers of resistance fading in his eyes.

 

His clan had fought valiantly, but even they couldn't hold their ground against the cruelty of Nightshade and Iron Fang.

 

One by one, the warriors of the Roaring Beast clan had fallen, and now David's life was hanging by a thread.

 

"They're going to die at this rate," Nyx murmured, glancing at Horizon. "I thought that you're going to save him?"

 

Horizon's expression remained impassive, thinking. "They're more useful to me dead than alive," he replied. "I don't know anything about them, so I won't risk trusting them."

 

David's loss was unfortunate, but Horizon had learned his lesson long ago—trust was a currency he wouldn't spend on strangers, especially in a competition like this. He'd been burned before, and he wasn't about to let it happen again.

 

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