Marcus hovered in midair, his gaze fixed on Calum, who lay slumped at the bottom of the crater, his aura dimming. The massive wolf felt completely shell-shocked. Could I really have done this much to Calum? It's impossible. Marcus had thrown his all into that swipe, every ounce of strength and speed. Still, facing Calum, who was on a completely different level, it barely counted—too slow, too weak to leave a mark. Marcus was certain. Calum could have dodged that attack easily. He might even have countered without taking a scratch. The moment Marcus had drawn near, Calum would have known he couldn't hold back. So why isn't he dodging? Why is he pressing his back right into my claws? He's faking it! That b*stard is doing this on purpose! Anger surged through Marcus, almost making him choke on it. Yet he couldn't ignore the possibility that one swipe might have genuinely killed Calum. He lunged toward the crater, urgency overriding fury. Even if he had no love for Calum, Emma's feelings complicated things. He couldn't actually let him die. Calum groaned, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he painfully hauled himself out of the crater. He glanced up at Marcus rushing over and murmured weakly, "I lost." Marcus' chest tightened with a mix of fury and dread. He's faking it! He's definitely putting on a show, copying Lucien's smug antics. He wanted to turn and walk away, but the gaping claw marks across Calum's back and the blood staining his lips forced worry to bury his anger. Whether he liked it or not, that strike had landed with full force. If Calum ended up critically injured, there would be no explanation to give Emma. Snapping out of his spiraling thoughts, Marcus shrank his massive wolf form into a human shape. In a few swift steps, he reached the crater's edge, then leapt down and strode to Calum's side.He stopped in front of him, his jaw tightening at the sight of the deep, raw claw marks. Without a word, Marcus pulled two of Silas' flowers from his storage band and shoved them into Calum's mouth, ignoring any gentleness. The petals dissolved instantly, radiating a soft, healing warmth that began knitting the wounds. Leaning weakly against the pit wall, Calum managed a faint smile. "Marcus... you won." That was the last straw. Marcus snapped. "Won?" A cold, scornful laugh escaped him, silver-gray eyes flashing with ridicule, his voice sharp as ice. "Won? You call this a victory? Just because you stood there and let me strike your back?" He panted with rage, grabbing Calum by the collar and yanking him off the wall, forcing him to meet his gaze, voice low and harsh. "I lost! "I lost to your shameless little stunt. Do you think I didn't notice? "You took that strike on purpose. Who are you performing for?"For Ms. Tibarn, right? You're putting on some pathetic, bleeding-heart act just to make her pity you, aren't you?" His grip shook as he spoke, anger coiling like a living thing. "Cut the theatrics. A victory should come from a fair fight." Marcus seethed, hands trembling with the urge to strike. Winning like this didn't count—it wasn't a true victory. As he finished berating Calum, another figure emerged from a crater nearby. Lucien had returned to human form, his clothing shredded and his skin pale. One hand clutched his right arm, lightly scratched, but he held it like it was a mortal wound. He staggered forward, swaying, and muttered to Calum, "I lost." Calum and Marcus both froze, momentarily speechless. A twitch of amusement betrayed them despite themselves at Lucien's exaggerated performance.At that moment, Emma arrived on the viewing platform, unable to stay back any longer. Her figure flickered as she descended with Silas and the others, landing firmly at them. "Lucien! Calum!" Seeing their pale faces, the blood everywhere, and especially the deep gashes on Calum's back, Emma's eyes widened. Isn't this supposed to be just a sparring match? How did it get this out of hand? It feels like a fight to the death. She didn't waste time questioning. Silas' flowers appeared in her hands, and she fed them to Lucien and Calum. Turning to Marcus, she asked, "Marcus, are you hurt?" He shook his head, annoyance clear. "Ms. Tibarn, I'm fine." Marcus walked away unscathed. Calum, meanwhile, was in the worst condition. This was not at all what Emma had expected. Moments ago, the sky had seemed to fall—sand swirling, ice thorns and fireballs everywhere. She hadn't been able to see anything inside the arena. All she had heard were two explosive impacts. Then smoke. When it cleared, both Calum and Lucien were lying in their respective pits. "Emma!" Lucien's sudden drop to one knee before Emma startled her—and everyone else present—nearly out of their wits. Everyone except Silas.