Daryll's words hit the room like a hammer.
"You're acting like he's just another student trying to survive. He's not. He's hunting them."
Silence. Thick, heavy, almost suffocating.
An elven man finally spoke up, his emerald eyes narrowing. "That's a bold claim. What makes you so sure?"
Daryll leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "His fights."
That got their attention. Several members exchanged glances.
The elf frowned. "His fights? He's only been in the arena three times. He's killed two—Krozak, a Child of the Universe, and Zayne, a talented prodigy. That's hardly enough to—"
"That's exactly my point." Daryll cut in, his tone sharp. "Zayne was just a stepping stone to him. After the fight, there was nothing in his eyes but disdain. Like Zayne wasn't even worth his time. But when he killed Krozak?" He paused, letting the words sink in. "He was happy. Like Krozak gave him something… something Zayne never could."
