Time passed as one game followed another, each one flowing into the next without pause, as if the space itself refused to give even a moment of rest.
The second game ended the same way as the first.
With loss.
There was no loud reaction, no frustration, and no sign of struggle. Vivian simply accepted the result the moment it was decided.
Then, without hesitation, his sword moved.
It was fast and clean, a single precise motion that did not allow even the slightest delay.
His other leg fell.
Blood rushed out at once, thick and heavy, spreading across the white floor that had long been stained red.
His body trembled slightly from the sudden loss of balance, but it was brief and quickly faded as he steadied himself with what little remained.
His expression did not change.
Not even for a moment.
It was as if pain had no meaning to him at all.
***
The third game began soon after.
