(Enzo's POV)
Enzo walked out to the ring, looking extremely nervous, as he fumbled with the edge of his robes and walked in short, uncertain steps—his boots dragging awkwardly across the sand and creating an uneven rhythm that made the Geneva supporters burst into laughter.
Some pointed and hollered. Others whistled mockingly. A few even mimicked his walk with exaggerated limp-steps of their own.
It didn't help that Enzo looked like he was walking to his own execution—which, in a way, he was.
"Look at him, Derek—" Lee said with a tone halfway between pity and amusement. "That's not a man coming out to win a fight. That's a man who drew the shortest straw in the Rodova locker room."
"He's been sent out for one reason and one reason only," Derek replied, eyes narrowing as the camera cut to Leo sitting on the bench with a towel over his shoulders. "To buy time for Skyshard. The question is—how much time can he really give?"
