Charles limped slowly toward the edge of the arena, the rain still pouring over his tattered tunic.
Each step was a struggle—not from physical exhaustion, but because he was working hard to sell the act of being gravely injured.
The burns on his arms and face, though less severe thanks to the lightning that healed him, still stung enough to make his performance believable.
His breathing was heavy, his head bowed, letting the water stream down his face to hammer home the image of a warrior on the brink.
The blue system tab blinked in his vision, reminding him of his new level:
[Level 7. Upgrade points available: 1.]
The thrill of leveling up made him want to grin, but he held it back, knowing it wouldn't look right for someone in his supposed state to be smiling like that.
Before he could reach the tunnel to the locker rooms, a group of medics intercepted him.
