"Why did you lose willingly?"
A heavy silence followed.
Rowan stood still, eyes locked on Logan's, searching for the answer he already suspected. He wasn't just asking. He was confirming.
His mind wandered—back to the duel.
At first, he thought Logan was simply a worthy opponent. Talented, disciplined, and sharp. But something in Rowan's gut told him Logan was holding back. So Rowan increased the pressure—slowly at first, then more aggressively, trying to crack the calm exterior and force out the truth. Testing him.
And as expected, Logan didn't break.
He adapted. Responded. Countered. Not with panic, not with arrogance, but with a chilling kind of control. It only pushed Rowan further. He escalated, pushing harder, forcing Logan to show his hand. But slowly Logan began to falter—his spells weakening, his stance losing shape, his breathing heavier.
Rowan assumed that was Logan's limit.
But he was wrong.
The truth only struck Rowan in that final moment.
