Chapter 5570

Far below, Isabel clenched her small fists until her knuckles blanched, whispering over and over, “Ms. Dusko, please, win.”

The Celestial Guards behind her stood rigid, necks craned, armor rattling with every shift of the duel above.

Near them, Enaricus watched the prince falter and felt a cold knot tighten in his gut.

His own disciples traded uneasy glances. One muttered, “Is Prince Percival truly up to this? What if he drags us down with him?”

Enaricus shot the speaker a single, storm-dark glare. The disciple fell silent as though his tongue had been cut out.

Esorin frowned faintly. Onneas’ prowess had exceeded every private report, and the elder’s disappointment in Percival settled like dust on his shoulders.

High above, Percival felt impatience gnaw at his composure. Each failed strike fed the hunger of his fury.