The arena erupted in cheers as the most recent mat h of the day concluded with a decisive victory. A stocky fighter from the western provinces had defeated his opponent through sheer brute strength, battering through his opponents defensive, managing to break their arm.
"Next match," the announcer's voice boomed across the coliseum. "Lord Grim Van Ambrose versus heir Feng Lin!"
Grim rose from his meditation, fighting the heaviness that still permeated in his limbs. He had managed to isolate some of the Ghost Veil's effects, concentrating the poison in his non-dominant side to preserve his sword arm's functionality. It was an imperfect solution. His balance would be compromised, his reaction time slower than normal, but it was the best he could manage on short notice.
[Your opponent approaches,] the voice warned.
