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Introduction:

Closing in on the end of the tournament.
The Drive to Win

After each round, there would be a short break to let the audience get more food and use the lavatory, as well as let the combatants regain their strength with magic and potions. In the meantime, repairs were made to the ring. Workers and mages with earth magic were fixing the holes and seating that Cain had destroyed, and taking the time to fill in various craters. They had to work fast so the audience wouldn’t get bored, but they got it done, and the sixth round commenced with only seven fighters. Since “Reiss” had been disqualified, Roc was declared the winner by default, though he didn’t seem happy about it. However, his bruised ego paled against his concern for the following match.

It was Foley vs. Saimallah, and whoever won would be his opponent in the next round. Noah was also interested in his fight, and though he had a strong feeling about how it would go, he still wanted to watch it from the edge of the ring. The two combatants entered, the diminutive Foley and the towering Saimallah, with the audience eager to see who would win. It was the ultimate matchup between an unstoppable force and an unmovable object. They stood a fair distance apart, facing each other.

“A dwarf from Uther fighting a man from Vandheim, this is the start of a good joke,” said Foley.

“Your defenses are mighty, young warrior, and your endurance is worthy of legend. However, you cannot win this fight. You are out of your league. Surrender this match and walk away while you still can,” Saimallah replied.

Foley slammed his shields together. “A mountain does not run! Even the world’s smallest!”

“No, but they can crumble. I should have known better than to suggest surrender. Dwarves are renowned for their stubbornness.”

“Yep, we dwarves are thickheaded, and you’ll never find a skull thicker than mine!”

“Let the match begin!” the ref announced.

Foley threw up his defenses, wrapping himself with layer after layer of shield magic. Unperturbed, Saimallah calmly approached and stood before Foley. “Out of respect for your courage and what you have accomplished in this tournament, I will crush you, not with the Touchless Technique, but with my own fist.”

“Ooh, now we’re talking,” Foley chuckled.

Saimallah assumed a fighting stance and pulled back his arm. At that moment, the air became heavy with mana, bearing down on everyone as if a lead weight had been dropped on their backs. The referee instinctively retreated, and Noah, standing nearby, almost felt like cursing. If only Saimallah had been one of his teachers when he was pursuing the epitome of human potential, if only magic had been available to him, it would have saved him a lot of time and opened up new avenues. Were he to engrave the monk’s abilities into his war god body, there was no telling what level of power he’d achieve. Back then, he thought he had reached the pinnacle of evolution, the perfect physical form, but without magic, it now seemed painfully incomplete, and he was left to wonder how far he could have gone.

Saimallah’s mana surged from his forearm, shooting behind him like flames from a rocket, while his fist glowed with brilliant light. Then, with a quick breath, he threw his punch. The impact was invisible; the attack delivered faster than the human eye could perceive, but the sonic boom it produced heralded its power. Upon contact with Foley’s shields, a shockwave shook the stadium and filled the air with dust. Even Noah was left blinded and nearly deafened by the resulting explosion. The only word that could describe it was ‘perfection,’ the perfect punch, delivered as if by a god of martial arts.

Finally, the dust settled, revealing the devastation Saimallah wrought. A vast linear crater had been carved into the ground, leading to a hole in the wall around the edge of the arena, with every wall behind it likewise broken. There was no sign of Foley. Noah, cloaked, went off in search of the dwarf. He found him at the end of the path of destruction, lying on a pile of rubble. Noah checked his neck, finding a weak pulse. It was a miracle he was still alive, as just by looking at him, more than half of his skeleton was broken. His shields resembled sheets of wet cardboard run over by a monster truck, and his clothes were torn to shreds. His defensive magic, which had failed to stop Saimallah’s attack, had, at the very least, protected him when he was sent smashing through all those walls.

Noah fed him multiple healing potions, and even then, the extensive damage took time to repair. However, Foley opened his eyes, and Noah released his invisibility.

“Noah, is that you?” he asked groggily.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Did I win?”

“You survived. That should be enough.”

“Fuck…” he groaned. “Did I tell you that the lord of my village offered me his daughter’s hand if I reached the final round?”

“Yes, yes, the girl with the cow tits and ass like a wine barrel.”

“I reached the sixth round. You think he’ll at least let me cop a feel?”

“I doubt it, but you just go right on ahead and dream.”

Foley gave a pained laugh. “Maybe Yolanda will at least give me a pity fuck.”

“Hey, if she doesn’t, I’ll pay. You earned it.”

“Thanks, Noah. You’re a good guy.”

Tournament officials arrived with healers to tend to Foley’s injuries. He lost the match, but the audience cheered his name for surviving such an attack. As Foley was carried away and Saimallah exited the ring, Cain and the last church agent entered. However, Noah wasn’t interested in watching, and it didn’t seem like he’d need to step in. He searched for Roc, finding him perched on one of the balconies at the very top of the arena. Cain had already finished killing his opponent by the time Noah reached him.

“You can’t win this fight,” said Noah.

“Don’t start, I’m not in the mood,” said Roc. But although he tried to hide it, he was trembling in fear.

“You’re strong, Roc, no question. However, he is not an enemy that can be defeated with just tenacity and heart. He’s way out of your league.”

“I don’t run from a fight. I’d rather lose, knowing that I gave it my all, knowing what my all even is, than walk away and spend the rest of my life wondering how I would have fared.”

Noah sighed. “Very well, then, at least let me help boost your odds. You blame me for losing arm; well I offer you this as compensation.” He held out his hand and, from his ring, conjured the red feather from the royal vault, sealed in crystal.

“What is that?” Roc asked.

“This is a feather from the legendary phoenix, and its power can be yours. Elyot once mentioned it to me, but I gave it no mind until I found this and realized the stories were true.”

“And how is one little feather supposed to help me?”

“Just as a single spark can raze a forest, this one little feather will ignite a roaring flame within you. I studied this relic and analyzed the magic imbued, and while I cannot unlock its power, I believe you, as a member of the eagle tribe, are a much more suitable bearer.”

“Didn’t you yourself tell me not to listen to people offering me power? That they’d use honeyed words to tempt me, handing me the answer to all my prayers?”

“I was talking about the Profane, not myself. Listen, I’m trying to make things right. You lost a piece of yourself because of me, so I’m giving you a replacement. True, it won’t help you tie your shoelaces, but you’ll be stronger with one arm than you ever could be with two. Take this power. Tame it, master it, earn it.”

Noah was telling the truth about making things right with Roc, but it wasn’t the whole truth. While studying the feather the night before, he came across a rune that appeared in his own curse, the rune of Rebirth. Just as Noah was reborn through reincarnation, the phoenix was reborn from the ashes of its death. He had hoped to use the feather to help develop his counterspell, but in its sealed form, it was little more than a decoration, and if it didn’t bond with a fitting host, it would simply go up in smoke the moment he released it from the crystal. In order to properly study it and use its power to help break his curse, he needed to truly ignite the flame, and he needed Roc to bear it.

As he pondered over it, Roc looked down below in the ring, where Seraph was fighting against a warrior with a hammer tipped with an anvil as the head. He then turned back to Noah.

“Thank you, but no. I came to this tournament not just out of spite, but to know my limits, to find how far I could get with only one arm. If I must lose in order to understand just how strong I really am, and how weak I am, then so be it. You tell me to master this power, to earn it, but it still feels like cheating to be handed something like this. You don’t owe me anything, Noah, and I’m not going to blame you anymore for my situation. I lost my arm because of my pride, and I’m turning this down, so that for the rest of my life, every loss I take will be because of my pride, not because of you. Again, thank you, but to be worse off without it, to me, is to be better off without it.”

“I knew you’d say something like that, but I figured I still needed to ask. Good luck out there.”

“Thanks. I’d better get ready.”

Roc departed, and not long after, Berholm arrived. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Considering that Cain just stomped the last church agent to death, I’d say my job is done.”

Berholm paused. “Not necessarily.”

“No, just no,” Noah said, shaking his head.

“The clergy is betting everything it has left on the monk. If you cause him to lose, they’ll be destitute, and we can purge the church of the corrupt leaders. The church and the kingdom will be reunited once again to fight the Profane.”

“You saw what he’s is capable of. He’s practically impervious to sabotage. I could stab him in the heart, and he’d still tear Roc to shreds.”

“You haven’t failed me yet. I doubt you will now.”

“You’d better have something big to offer me for such a risk.”

Berholm held up a small glass bottle. “Pure truth serum. I told you before that Cyrilo had been using alchemy to produce it, and something tells me you can as well. However, without a sample of the original, it’s clear it cannot be replicated.”

Noah had tried to learn the recipe from Cyrilo, but just as she kept the alchemic spell secret from the kingdom, so too was the recipe kept secret from her. So long as enough raw materials were prepared, alchemical replication could be performed without knowing the actual composition of what was being copied. It would be easy for Noah to steal the bottle, just as he had considered robbing the royal vault, but Berholm would immediately notice the bottle’s absence, same with any missing relics, and Noah’s pardon would be a thing of the past. It was true that Noah was already quite skilled at extracting information from people, but genuine truth serum was too good to pass up.

“Very well, I’ll see what I can do.”

Noah left Berholm and went down into the ring. Seraph’s fight had just ended, and right now, all of the combatants were recovering, and the destruction from Saimallah’s punch was being repaired. As he waited, Noah tried to devise a plan to take out Saimallah. Gassing him might work, but he shouldn’t bet everything on it. Succubus powder? If it worked too well, it would be suspicious, especially if Saimallah wasn’t injured or fatigued. A chloroform rag? Even if he was invisible, Saimallah would react and probably hit Noah with a blind swing, killing him if he wasn’t careful and giving away his presence. Soon enough, the seventh round commenced, and Roc and Saimallah entered the ring.

“ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC!” his fans chanted excitedly, a far cry from their earlier disdain for the beastman warrior. He had won their hearts, this young, one-armed underdog overcoming challenge after challenge, while Saimallah had dominated this tournament without breaking a sweat. Though the monk’s powers were impressive, even terrifying, they didn’t endear the crowd as much as the gamblers.

“You impress me, young warrior, to have come so far with such an injury. Few in your condition could have accomplished so much. However this ends, you can hold your head up high and leave here with my respect,” Saimallah grumbled through his thick beard.

Roc put his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “From such an esteemed master of the martial arts, your words are a greater prize than whatever this tournament has to offer, but like you said, ‘however this ends.’”

Nearby, the ref raised his arm. “Let the semifinals begin!”

Roc launched himself towards Saimallah with his wings while mana surged from his limbs. “Cyclone Impact!” He spun in the air and swung at Saimallah’s head with a powerful kick, but the monk’s apparition reached out and blocked the attack, then countered with a punch. Roc tried to pull away with his wings, but the apparition moved too quickly, forcing to block with his arm. He was tossed through the air, farther and faster than he would have with just his wings, a testament to the power of the attack. His forearm was numb from the blow, and his skin was already darkening from all the burst capillaries. Had he not lessened the impact with his retreat, his bones would have shattered.

Regardless, Roc went at it again, aiming for a punch to the stomach. Saimallah’s apparition grabbed his arm the same way Noah had stopped Viktor, then tried to twist Roc’s arm until he either dislocated his shoulder or Roc surrendered. Instead, Roc went with the force and flipped over in the air, then jumped again and tried to strike Saimallah in the kidneys with his knee. A phantom hand of mana appeared and caught his leg before the attack could land, but still, Roc didn’t give in.

Using his wings to twist his position in the air, he raised his other leg and brought down a guillotine kick onto Saimallah’s shoulder, only for the monk to once more intercept, this time with a phantasmal leg extending from his chest and countering Roc’s kick. A second leg of mana shot from Saimallah’s abdomen and kicked Roc square in the gut, knocking him back. He couldn’t stick the landing and hit the ground like a wounded bird, tasting blood. While the blow was powerful and incredibly painful, Saimallah was obviously holding back. Otherwise, all of Roc’s innards and his spine would have been pulverized.

Watching nearby, Noah frowned in unease. Saimallah’s Touchless Technique was more versatile than he expected. His apparition wasn’t just an extra set of limbs, for those limbs could extend from any part of his body in the blink of an eye. Even Noah’s clone couldn’t do that. Saimallah could kick, punch, and block from every possible angle without moving an inch. It was Roc’s three limbs against Saimallah’s eight, and he outclassed the young warrior in strength, speed, experience, and every other category. There was no way for Roc to win on his own. Noah had to step in. He got in close and began spraying carbon monoxide at Saimallah. There was no telling how effective it would be, and he didn’t have much left.

After catching his breath, Roc went at it again, rocketing towards Saimallah and blowing away the gas. “Monk Spear!” He flattened his hand into a blade and wrapped it in surging mana, but instead of going for Saimallah’s head or chest, he went lower, and tried to slice his femoral artery. Saimallah countered with a Touchless kick to knock him back, but Roc avoided the attack by the skin of his teeth. He then changed targets to Saimallah’s Achilles Tendon, earning a Touchless punch zooming towards his face. However, Roc dodged the punch and struck the apparition’s wrist with his own attack, dispelling it.

Saimallah was shocked, but looked into Roc’s eyes and saw they were the eyes of an eagle. Just like in his earlier fight against Beck, he was using a partial transformation to enhance his reflexes, and he could counter the Touchless apparition with his own monk magic. Saimallah rained attacks down on Roc, and instead of targeting the man himself, Roc focused on countering the attacks. Whenever a phantasmal punch or kick hurtled towards him, Roc would either dodge or meet the attack head-on with a magic strike. Kicks were negated with kicks, and his nukite slashes cut through intangible punches. It was an impressive display of strength and agility, but it wasn’t getting Roc anywhere, and it was impossible for him to maintain such a pace for long. Fortunately, the carbon monoxide that Saimallah breathed in was hindering him just enough for Roc to continue this stalemate briefly.

Finally, Saimallah moved for the first time in the fight. He pulled back his arm and punched the air. Like Reiss’s wind magic, a flameless explosion burst from his fist in a linear blast. However, this was simply pure monk mana launched forward by Saimallah’s immeasurable power. One of Roc’s wings caught the torrent like a sail, tossing him through the air without injury, but Noah, standing farther back, received the blast at full strength. He was knocked off his feet as if hit by a car, feeling all the air expelled from his lungs and his ribs threatening to break. He struck the ground painfully hard, with his illusion magic thankfully concealing his landing from everyone. It was a brutal reminder that even if he wasn’t actually fighting, he was still in danger of getting caught in the crossfire.

Noah couldn’t afford to be passive about this, especially considering that Saimallah was starting to take this seriously, at least more so than in his earlier matches. If Roc took a single direct hit, it was all over. The two charged towards the Saimallah and attacked, Roc with monk magic and Noah with his sword. Touchless attacks erupted from Saimallah like a load of buckshot, with Roc doing his best to counter and dodge. However, Saimallah wasn’t going easy on him this time, and was powering through the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning to hit harder and faster. That said, Noah was covering the defense.

Every time an attack was launched that Roc couldn’t handle, Noah intervened and severed the phantasmal limb with his sword. He ducked and weaved in between the two warriors, avoiding both of their attacks while inflicting his own to counter Saimallah. Saimallah had to notice that his Touchless Technique was being negated, but with Roc coming at him in full force, he didn’t have time to think about it and had to focus on the fight.

Once again, Saimallah moved, swinging his leg to launch another air blast. Roc, having his hands full fending off Touchless attacks, wouldn’t be able to dodge or block, but Noah had his back and sprayed Saimallah’s face with a mild irritant, something to mimic the symptoms of hay fever. His eyes and nose itching from the allergic reaction, Saimallah’s focus was broken, and his kick and the resulting shockwave missed Roc. With that brief opportunity, Roc closed in and managed to inflict a shallow cut on Saimallah’s cheek, shocking the audience. That was the first time someone had landed an attack on the monk, not to mention drawing blood.

“Hmph!” Saimallah grunted as he brought down his raised leg and stomped the ground, sending a massive eruption of earth skyward, higher than the top of the arena.

The crowd shrieked in terror as dust and sand poured down on them, as while the barrier protected the stands from magic, it didn’t block regular matter. Fortunately, no rocks were falling, simply because the strength of Saimallah’s stomp had crushed them all to dust. Both Noah and Roc were sent flying by the blast, with Noah suffering war flashbacks of being hit with artillery. He landed with his ears ringing and his eyes and mouth full of sand, feeling like a shoe tossed around in a dryer. Roc wasn’t far off, struggling to breathe and groaning in pain.

It took several moments for them to get to their feet and clear their senses, with the explosion’s dust cloud slowly settling. The referee was sprawled out unconscious at the edge of the ring, but this fight no longer needed one. Just from the look on Saimallah’s face as he stood at the bottom of the resulting crater, it was clear that he was done playing around. Seeing the monk’s stern expression, Roc straightened his posture.

“How about we put an end to this the only way we know how: each of us throwing everything we have in one final attack?”

“You have a good head on your shoulders, boy. It’ll be a shame to kill you.”

Roc just chuckled and spread his wings, taking to the air. The audience, at least those who had managed to wipe the dust from their eyes, watched with pointing fingers as Roc perched himself at the very top of the arena, at the same place where he had fought Ingram. “I had been hoping to save this for the final fight, but I guess I can’t be picky.” He widened his stance and held out his arm, with his index finger, middle finger, and thumb pointing out like he was about to pluck a fly out of the air. “Guillotine Beak!”

Mana surged from the tips of his fingers with roaring pressure and enveloped his hand and arm, resembling the head of an eagle. Like his Decisive Divebomb, this technique was a Beast Art, and his most powerful attack. Rather than a concussive impact, it was a cutting and stabbing move, similar to the Monk Spear, but several times more powerful. When both his fingers and thumb touched the enemy, it was like an eagle’s beak slicing its prey, allowing him to cut through wood, stone, and even steel.

As Roc charged his attack, Saimallah assumed a combat stance and pulled back his arm, just as he had done when he fought Foley, and like before, he was kicking up a dust cloud, giving Noah an idea. He couldn’t use his illusion guns while invisible, but if he dropped his invisibility and used the dust cloud for cover, even if just for a single second, he could fire off a shot, and hopefully, everyone would be too preoccupied to notice. A round with just the right amount of power and precise timing would distract Saimallah and weaken his punch enough for Roc to overpower him and land the decisive blow. That said, there was absolutely no room for error. Any mistake made would reveal his presence and get Roc, Saimallah, or possibly both of them killed.

He moved to the edge of the ring and into the shade, out of Saimallah’s sight, and hopefully where he wouldn’t be noticed by the crowd. He crouched and extended his arm in preparation to ready his weapon. Once he dropped his invisibility, he wouldn’t have time to aim. He had to do this as fast as physically possible. All three warriors were ready, their attacks waiting to be unleashed. The time was right.

Roc leaped from his perch and began flying around the arena. Once he had built up enough speed, he turned and dived towards Saimallah with his hand outstretched. The mana streaming from his hand wrapped around his entire body and radiated from his wings, making him resemble a giant silver eagle. He was closing in on Saimallah, with everyone watching, including Noah, holding their breath. Saimallah sent his fist hurtling towards Roc, ready to intercept. Even with all of the power Roc had gathered, he couldn’t hope to match that simple punch, but that’s where Noah came in.

At the very last second, he dispelled his invisibility and conjured a rocket launcher, held within his outstretched hand and resting on his shoulder. He pulled the trigger, and the illusory rocket shot off faster than the human eye could catch, racing against Roc to reach Saimallah. The rocket hit Saimallah in the side and exploded just a millisecond before Noah recast his invisibility and Roc’s attack landed. A massive explosion shook the arena and filled the air with smoke, dust, and mana, with the resulting shockwave slamming into the spectators on the edge of their seats and pushing them back.

As the dust cloud began to settle, the breadth of the destruction was made clear. Roc had pushed Saimallah back to the edge of the ring and destroyed a large portion of the wall, along with the ground, but neither fighter could be seen, only a pair of silhouettes lying amongst the rubble. Then, one of them stood up, and the smoke cleared. Roc was triumphant, with Saimallah laid out before him with a massive slash carved in his chest as if with a sword. That said, Roc had not come out uninjured. A huge hole had been punched through his wing, nothing that couldn’t be patched up with magic, and the shoulder of his missing arm had been obliterated, leaving even less of a stump than there was before. Roc touched the wound with his hand, and to everyone’s surprise, he began to laugh harder than Noah had ever heard him. He then raised his bloody hand, and the crowds erupted, chanting his name at the top of their lungs.

“ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC! ROC!”

Their voices boomed like thunder, and even Noah cracked a smile. Though he had helped Roc win, the victory was his. All he had done was bring Saimallah down closer to his level, but he could only narrow the massive chasm between their power levels, a chasm which should have still swallowed the young warrior whole. All other fighters would try to jump that chasm and fall to their deaths, but Roc flew across. He left the ring with his fist raised, and as he passed through the doorway into the corridors beneath the stands, he found someone waiting for him.

“Leuca Aithorn,” he chuckled, facing the elf warrior. “Were you waiting for me to be all wounded and exhausted so you could try to arrest me again?”

And of all the things the icy warrior could have done, Aithorn smiled. “As a reveler, it’s only right you end up back in the dungeon, but I don’t want to interrupt the tournament, so I’ll arrest you another day. For now, I think you’ve earned a chance to rest. You did well, Roc.” He then turned around and walked away.

“The next time we fight, don’t expect it to end the same way as last time,” Roc said.

Aithorn paused. “I’d be disappointed if it did.”

Under normal circumstances, the next fight would immediately begin, but repairs had to again be made to the ring. Walls were rebuilt and craters were filled, but so much dirt had been tossed at the audience that the barrier had to be lowered so that earth magic could gather it all. Even then, the ground was lower than before, but at least it was level.

Seraph entered the ring first, trying to hide his fear. The audience was chanting his name, but no amount of support could change the fact that Cain was the worst enemy he could possibly imagine; someone exactly like how he used to be. The towering rhino beastman appeared on the other side of the ring, grinning with sadistic anticipation while relishing the boos from the crowd. Seraph had always taken pride in his stature and natural gifts, but now he felt like a child in the presence of the evil behemoth before him.

“I’ve killed six people in the ring so far, and lucky #7 will be Uther’s prince. Today is a good day.”

Having been nursed back to health after getting tossed around in the previous fight, the referee stood between the two combatants. “I’ll allow no excessive violence. The rules are to defeat your enemy, not torture them, and certainly not execute them. Am I understood?”

“Do you honestly think your rules apply to me?” Cain laughed. “Rules only apply to losers too weak to kill the fools who enforce them! If anyone wants to stop me, they’re free to try! Now get out of my way!”

He knocked the ref aside and charged, not bothering to wait for the match to be officiated. Seeing the juggernaut thundering towards him, Seraph gathered what little courage he had and swung with his hammer. Cain blocked the attack with his arm and then delivered a punch straight to Seraph’s stomach. The moment Cain’s fist connected, Seraph tasted death, and it tasted like blood, a lot of blood. It poured from his mouth as if desperate to come out, while air refused to go in. He didn’t even feel himself flying through the air; he just saw the world around him spinning before hitting the ground. Racked with pain and unable to breathe, he writhed in the dirt, but Cain wasn’t giving him time to rest.

“You should try bulking up a little, boy! If I hit you any harder, you would have flown clear out of the stadium!”

With his foe approaching, Seraph focused his energy on healing and blocking the pain. He slowly got to his feet, sucking in air as Cain strode over. Laughing, he pulled back his arm and threw a punch strong enough to kill a bear. Seraph dodged the incoming meteor and brought his hammer down onto Cain’s arm with all of his strength. Cain winced from the blow and swung his arm to shake away the pain, when an average fighter’s arm would have been crushed into gravel.

Seraph swung again, this time aiming for Cain’s head. Cain used his horn to parry the attack, then kicked Seraph like a soccer ball, again sending him flying. This time, he braced himself to avoid complete discombobulation, but it still knocked all the air from his lungs. He rolled across the ground and forced himself to his feet, not having the luxury of a breather.

“Is this the best that Uther’s prince can do? I’ve banged my elbow on furniture that hurt more than that! Pathetic!” Cain then got down in a runner’s pose and lowered his head. “Linear Crush!”

Wreathed in mana, he charged towards Seraph, ready to splatter him like a bug on a windshield. Still trying to catch his breath, Seraph jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding Cain’s rampage. Just like in his earlier fight, the mad beast crashed into the wall around the ring, undoing the work of the repair crew. He quickly recovered and once again charged towards Seraph, but this time, Seraph was ready, or he hoped he was.

As Cain charged, Seraph sidestepped at the last moment and tried to strike him with his hammer. However, the mana radiating from his horn shielded Cain, and Seraph’s attack was repelled. This time, Cain managed to stop himself before smashing into the wall. “You really thought you could stop me with a weak attack like that?! You’re a fucking disgrace!” Cain laughed. He then turned around and charged at Seraph once again. Gathering all of his mana into his hammer, Seraph sidestepped again and swung. Radiating holy energy, his hammer managed to break through the beastman’s defenses, and he smashed Cain in the knee. Cain tumbled and rolled across the ground.

“Fuck, that stings!” he cursed, hopping on one leg as though he had simply stubbed his toe.

He tried to put weight on his wounded leg, but from his reaction, it was clear charging was no longer an option for him. However, considering that that attack should have shattered his kneecap, the fact that he could still stand and walk formed a lump in Seraph’s throat that he struggled to swallow. At the very least, Cain’s limited mobility gave Seraph an edge. Seraph took off in a run, jogging laps around Cain, each lap smaller than the one before. He had to get into the beastman’s blind spot and attack before he could retaliate.

“Running in terror? Desperately trying to keep your distance? I expected better from Uther’s prince! Oh, who am I kidding? I expected nothing from a pathetic whelp like you!”

Cain’s taunts made Seraph sick with shame. Everything he said was true, from Seraph’s weakness to his desperation. He used to mock warriors who fought like this. In fact, he mocked everyone, hammering anyone inferior to him with insults. Being ridiculed and beaten down by this goliath, was Seraph now feeling what everyone who ever fought him felt?

Cain turned his head, and when he tried to step with his wounded leg, his subtle wince was Seraph’s signal to attack. Seraph closed in and raised his weapon, but Cain faced him, ready to inflict more pain. Seraph swung his hammer, but it was a feint, and instead, he threw it at Cain. Cain knocked it aside as if batting away a mosquito, but it did open up his defenses. Taking a running start, Seraph leaped towards Cain with his fist pulled back and glowing with mana.

“Righteous Strike!”

He punched Cain in the face with a burst of light flashing upon impact. A year ago, that attack would have knocked Cain out, but he barely flinched. “You call that a punch?” he scoffed as Seraph landed beside him. “THIS is a punch!” He sent his fist hurtling towards Seraph, and while Seraph managed to avoid a punch to the face, he took the blow to the shoulder, dislocating it and shattering his collarbone and a couple of ribs. Seraph collapsed, howling pain, and clutching his wounded shoulder. Cain laughed and grabbed Seraph’s hammer, the large sledge looking like a carpenter’s mallet in his grip. “You puny weaklings, so dependent on your little toys.”

Cain snapped off the head and then began beating Seraph with the shaft, just soft enough to avoid killing him, all the while laughing. “I love crushing you bugs under my heel! The sound of your frightened and anguished screams, of your bones breaking, it’s music to my ears! This is what you get! This is what you deserve for being so weak!”

The audience could only watch in fear and horror as their prince was brutalized, hearing his cries of pain over the bludgeoning sound of the hammer shaft beating against him. The knights who had been there when Seraph fought Noah were once again feeling sick to their stomachs, being reminded of that awful day. The cruelty shown here was similar, but far more uncivilized. When Noah did it, it was not about entertainment or a sick joy from picking on the weak. It was pure fury, always focused and in control, making sure Seraph suffered for what he did. He did not taunt Seraph to humiliate him, but to break him down into nothing and crush his hope and spirit.

Finally, Cain stepped away from Seraph, leaving him broken and bloody. He then turned to the audience. “Is this it? Is this the best your pathetic country can produce?! This is your beloved prince?! You all disgust me, coddling such weakness! You pathetic worms, bowing down to this bloodline of failure! Uther deserves to fall, and you all deserve to die just as he does! This city should have been crushed by the mighty beastmen of Welindar!”

Seraph was barely conscious, listening to Cain’s booming voice. He was kept awake by the pain, pain he had felt before. The last time he was left in this state, he was surrounded by a ring of fire. The plum, that bitter, awful plum, he could still taste it, a reminder of how desperate he was to die and escape the pain. Had nothing changed since then? Whether he had power or didn’t, all roads led to horror. He was going to die here, just as he should have died that day.

“On your feet.”

The voice in his ear chilled his blood and invoked a terror in Seraph that not even Cain could grant. Though his eyes saw no one around him, he knew he heard that voice, the voice from his nightmares. “I said get up. You aren’t done yet. Are you just going to lie there and accept your death like before? Are you really that weak?” Instinctively, Seraph began to crawl, trying to escape the voice. With broken bones and torn flesh, he dragged himself through the dirt, as if that plum sat before him once more.

Cain saw him crawling and began to laugh. “That’s right, writhe like a worm. It’s all you know how to do.”

“Is he right?” Noah asked, crouching invisibly beside Seraph and using his mana to contain his voice so only Seraph heard it. “Is that really the best that Seraph Albion, Crown Prince of Uther, can do? Is this what your father raised you to do? What Tarnas trained you to do? What Light’s Emissary is born to do?”

Get away, Seraph had to get away from Cain and the voice. Only pain awaited him if he didn’t escape. “You really think you can run from this?” Cain taunted, slowly walking behind him like a cat playing with a wounded mouse.

The audience watched the shameful display with heavy hearts. But they could not judge Seraph when they had seen what kind of opponent he was up against. What could a man do against such cruelty and sadism? They were in the same boat, unable to do anything to intervene. All the knights were on standby, waiting for the order to intervene and save Seraph. Why wouldn’t King Galvin give the order to rescue his brother? Was he trying to preserve his honor by letting him die in the ring? There was no honor to find there, no honor to be found while writhing in the dirt. They couldn’t do it again, couldn’t watch him die once more.

“You can’t escape from this,” said Noah. “There is no escape. You either win or you die. Those are your only options. God won’t save you from him; nobody can save you but yourself, so get up. Mend your bones, heal your flesh, and get back on your feet like you know you can.”

These hallucinations whispering to Seraph, were they proof that he had gone mad from the pain and terror? Had his mind finally snapped after everything that he had been subjected to? Had it been broken like his body?

“Unless you actually want to die, and you meant what you said back then.”

Seraph stopped, his mind racing back to that day, how he begged Noah to kill him. “Please, just let me die!” He remembered sobbing those words, ready to accept whatever would save him from further pain. He didn’t want to die; he was just scared and miserable. He crawled then just as he crawled now, but that time, it was towards death. Here in the arena, he was trying to escape it. He wanted to live. He still did, even more so now after trying to die.

“Every sensation you can enjoy, every thought and feeling that makes you who you are, your hopes and dreams of achieving significance in the eyes of history, he’s going to rob you of all of them. All your memories and experiences, everything you’ve suffered, everything you’ve worked hard for, will amount to nothing unless you get up and fight. If you don’t want to lose it all, gamble it all. If you want to keep your life, then throw it away for this moment. Get up and fight, and hold nothing back. Every drop of blood, every spark of energy, every ounce of courage and willpower, use them all or lose them all. On your feet, Seraph.”

Slowly, Seraph pushed himself up while using his mana to mend his broken bones. He couldn’t fix everything, so he focused on just what he needed to stand up, even if doing so hurt so badly that he wanted to vomit. He got to his feet, soaked in blood and looking like a stiff breeze could knock him over.

“What do you know, the pathetic whelp is brave enough to die on his feet instead of his knees,” Cain taunted.

Seraph held out his hand and formed a small orb of energy. Just like when he fought the archer, he was taking everything he had, all the strength in his body, and focusing it into that orb. The warmth of his blood, the strength of his fear and his hope, his very life force; everything that Cain sought to take, he channeled into that orb. Again and again, he folded and sharpened it like steel in a forge, honing that power into its purest and most potent form.

“Stand, so you may never fall,” said Noah, behind him. “Fight, so you may never die. Charge, so you may never fear.”

“On crimson earth and beneath blackened sky,” Seraph whispered as he closed his fingers around the orb and pulled back his arm.

“Let’s finish this, Prince!” Cain boomed as he pulled back his own arm. He leaned forward, sending his fist rocketing towards Seraph, ready to end his life and splatter him across the sand. But at the last moment, Seraph ducked out of the way and countered, punching Cain in the face with everything he had.

“Righteous Strike!”

A blinding flash of light enveloped them both, and Cain realized he had made a grave mistake. He could feel Seraph’s mana irradiating him from the inside out, burning through his veins like an injection of acid, threatening to incinerate his very soul. Cain was tossed through the air like a ragdoll, his beastman transformation forcefully undone, his eyes blank from his stolen consciousness. He hit the ground without moving, leaving Seraph still on his feet. With the last of his strength, he raised his arm in triumph, and the crowds erupted into cheering. Unfortunately, he heard none of it, for he immediately collapsed.

Though it was only midday, the final round of the tournament was temporarily suspended. Even with all magic and potions at their fingertips, Roc and Seraph needed time to rest. Noah returned home to Valia and Shannon.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked, stepping into their bedroom where Valia was reading.

“Better, thank you,” she said, closing her book.

Noah reached out and cupped her cheek. “You don’t seem to have a fever; that’s good.”

“Whatever happened, it’s gone now. You don’t have to worry.” She clutched his hand. “I’m sorry for what I said this morning, about what it felt like when I collapsed. I’ve been worrying that you thought I was angry at you or something.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know what you meant. I know you.”

Valia leaned her head back and sighed. “What’s happening to me, Noah?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. You’re getting stronger every day.”

“How was the tournament?”

“Spectacular. You missed out on quite the show.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Well, the final round is tomorrow night, Roc vs Seraph. Think you’ll join us?”

“Do you have any more work to do for Berholm?”

“I have to see him again tonight, but that’s it. Tomorrow, we’ll watch the fight together.”

Valia looked him over. “Why are you all dusty? You look like you’ve been dragged through the desert.”

“Like I said, it was quite the show.” He then gave her a teasing smile. “Move over, let me get under the covers with you.”

“No, you’ll get the bed filthy!” she giggled.

He leaned in. “Come on, I know you love being a dirty girl. Give me a kiss.”

“Stop!” she laughed, pushing him away.

“Hmph, and to think you said you weren’t angry.”

“Go clean yourself off, you beast. Then I’ll properly welcome you home.”

Noah obliged, departing to shed his sandy garb and clean himself off. It took longer than he anticipated, digging the dirt out of every nook and cranny. It felt like he had a wheelbarrow’s worth of sand in his ears alone. Once presentable, he adorned his headband, the only clothing on him. After all, the training never stopped, and he was improving daily. He returned to the bedroom to find Valia and Shannon, naked and eager to please him. He shared their lurid smile and inserted himself between them, as well as inside them.

He switched back and forth between Valia and Shannon, giving them each the love and attention they deserved, and they, in turn, immersed him in their affection. They straddled his thighs, grinding against him while their joined hands jacked him off, and their tongues swirled in his mouth. He’d break the kiss only so he could give their ample breasts, using his lips and tongue to play with their nipples and make them moan, while the two women turned their focus to each other in a sapphic embrace.

Soon enough, simply grinding wasn’t enough for Valia. She pushed Noah onto his back with him sitting on the edge of the bed and stood up, turning around and leaning forward, then settling on his cock. She bounced on his lap, with the clapping of her ebony ass echoing through the room. Unfortunately, Noah was in no position to enjoy the sight or sound, as he was busy beneath Shannon, who was riding his face, moaning as he explored her recesses. She didn’t understand how he was so good, how he made her melt on his tongue like an ice cube.

Once Valia was brought to climax, it was Shannon’s turn. He took Shannon from behind, his hands on her hips and his thrusts making her ass ripple. Valia was underneath her, licking Shannon’s clit and Noah’s cock as he fucked her. Shannon returned the favor, going down on Valia while moaning from Noah stirring around inside her. She was in paradise, being ravaged by her beloved Lord while feeling the softness of her Lady’s naked body against her own, all while she got to taste and be tasted.

Again, an orgasmic moan was the signal to change positions, with Shannon’s strength drained by the waves of pleasure rolling through her. Noah stood off the bed, and Valia, still on her back, turned herself perpendicular and spread her legs to welcome him. Noah accepted her invitation and fucked her like his life depended on it, with the movement of his hips capable of breaking down a castle gate. Valia’s grandiose breasts rocked and shook from the force of his rapid thrusts, stopped only by Shannon massaging and sucking on them, her mouth wide open as if trying to inhale the bodacious orbs.

Noah could feel an orgasm charging within him and, raising his speed and intensity, made Valia cry out in pleasure as the bed rocked and bounced like there was an earthquake. Finally, he stopped, catching his breath as he ejaculated deep inside Valia. He looked over to Shannon, likewise lying on her back, but in the reverse direction as Valia. She had her head hanging off the edge of the bed with her mouth wide open, desperate for a taste. Noah obliged, sheathing his cock in her mouth and letting her greedily lick off every drop of seed and nectar.

She restored him back to total rigidity, and he returned to fucking Valia, whisking up the batter he had already poured inside her. After a minute, he went back to Shannon, letting her once again clean him off with her mouth before continuing with Valia. This continued on, Noah moving back and forth between them, with Shannon waiting eagerly to have her throat stuffed by her beloved Lord’s cock. Once he could feel his second round being loaded into the chamber, he granted her wish. Holding her head still, he throat-fucked her deep and hard, with his jewels dampened by her tears as they slapped her face.

Thanks to all of the training she had undergone, her gag reflex was almost nonexistent, but she still shuddered from the force of his thrusts. Valia watched while biting her lip, relishing the sight of the bulge in Shannon’s throat moving back and forth as Noah hollowed her out. She reached out and began playing with Shannon’s pussy, tickling her clit and stirring her fingers inside her to boost her pleasure. Shannon loved the rough treatment, loved feeling her Lord use her throat as a cock sleeve as her Lady teased her. While not inherently masochistic, she was deeply submissive to Noah and Valia, and the more they subjected her to in the bedroom, the more it felt like they trusted her. They weren’t coddling or going easy on her. They pushed her to her limits because they knew she could handle it and had faith in her strength.

Their combined treatment made her climax and arch her back while Noah pumped her mouth and throat full of semen. He pulled his cock out, sending his seed running down her face. “Thank you, My Lord,” she panted. She closed her mouth and swallowed the salty whiteness, relishing the feel of it settling in her stomach.

“You’re very welcome,” Noah replied before leaning down and kissing her cheek.

After thoroughly satisfying Valia and Shannon, Noah put on some spare clothes and spent the afternoon training his magic in Valon’s room. He continued experimenting with the headband, performing his workout routine and seeing how far he could separate from his clone. Considering how shocked Saimallah was with his progress, he was clearly doing something right. Soon enough, he decided to try something different. He sat down on the floor in a meditative position with his clone mirroring his movements and facing him, then removed his headband. Immediately, the link between him and his clone swelled like a flash flood, having been strangled to a trickle by the magic binding.

He extended his consciousness towards it and filled the projection with his will, not to control its movements, but to use it as an extension of his senses. Speaking through his clone was easy, but if he could see and hear through it, that would be a game-changer. He spent the afternoon like this, blocking out all physical stimuli while focusing his ethereal awareness on the clone. He had to drop his body’s activity to its lowest possible level to remove all distractions, but steadily, an image appeared before his mind’s eye. It was faint and blurry, but as time passed and he honed his focus, it slowly sharpened, and eventually, he was staring at himself through his clone.

He had it turn its head, looking left and right, and his vision shifted to see what the clone saw. He stood up in his illusory form and walked around the room, dependent only on his redirected senses. Controlling his clone under normal circumstances was like puppetry, relying on his view of the clone while he pulled its strings, but this was more like piloting a robot or drone as it fed a live stream of its surroundings. However, while he could also smell and taste the air, his sense of touch didn’t transfer over, nor could he interact with anything around him. Objects he touched passed right through his hand, while the bedroom door refused to budge when he tried to open it.

His illusions could pass around and through impediments of certain sizes and shapes, such as cage bars or dense brush, but the more mass that passed through the clone, the more mana was required to maintain it, and his clone couldn’t walk through solid walls or doors any more than he could. Most of the projection had to be unobscured to move forward. Normally, the mana expenditure caused by something passing through his clone was insignificant, but with him stretching his consciousness like this, the cost had skyrocketed.

Fortunately, while the door was closed, the window was open, and he managed to climb out and jump down into the garden below. Another upside of traveling in illusory form was that he couldn’t be killed or injured, no matter how high he fell, though his mind was shaken.

Outside, Shannon washed the sand out of his clothes and hung them up to dry. “My Lord!” she chirped as he approached.

“Thank you as always, Shannon. Whether blood or dirt, you’re always there to help me look my best.”

“It is my pleasure, My Lord. After all, you reward me so wonderfully,” she blushed. She was still high on endorphins and dopamine from their noon romp. She then stepped closer with a timid but carnal smile. “But if you would like to reward me now for my work, I’d be truly grateful. You said you were training your magic? Well, I know how to help.” She leaned in to kiss him, but her hands passed through his shoulders. She was surprised at first, then pouted. “My Lord, please don’t tease me. I know you’re here. Come out.”

“I’m actually still upstairs. My magic training is going well.”

“So you’re talking to me through your clone?”

“And hearing you, seeing you…” He leaned as if to kiss her neck. “And smelling you. You smell nice. I like it when you wear my scent like that.”

Shannon’s ears twitched in excitement. “You’re teasing me again!” she whined bashfully.

“I’m going for a walk and see how far I can travel like this.”

“But you’ll still be here, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m right upstairs. Please don’t disturb me, but if you have to, be careful. I might jump like a nervous cat.”

He went around the front of the house and entered the street, setting off on a leisurely stroll. People walked past him, unaware that he was simply an intangible projection of mana. It was strange to be walking around without a sense of touch, like being on a drug. He couldn’t feel his body, the ground beneath his feet, or the sun’s warmth. Still, he was sure he could find a use for this technique, yet the farther he got from home, the less useful it seemed. After just a hundred steps down the street, his senses began to blur. For now, he had reached the maximum range of this extended awareness.

That night, Noah made his last shopping trip to the royal vault. This time, he turned his attention to the treasury and dug for anything of magical value.

“With this, the church has lost a fortune. I’m sure they’ll be far easier to negotiate with now that their pockets are empty. You’ve done good work, Sir Noah.”

“I’m no stranger to fixing fights, but this was certainly amusing.” Reaching into the depths of a treasure chest, he pulled out a dull red gem the size of his fist. “Perfect.”

“How were you able to overcome the monk?”

“I’m afraid that’s a trade secret. Speaking of which, he uses the Touchless Kill Technique. I don’t suppose you’ve ever looked down that avenue?”

“Every martial artist does. At least those who know about it. I tried to unlock it, but hard work can only take you so far. Inevitably, talent has to play its role.”

“I’m curious about something. Tell me, Berholm, how did you end up here with your position? How did you go from training in a Vandheim temple to Royal Adjudicator of Uther?”

Berholm grimaced. “That’s not a story to tell while sober.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a nightcap, and we are standing in the treasury.” He conjured a bottle of Knight’s Ambrosia. “When is the next time you’ll have the chance to drink out of a gold chalice?”

“I should refuse, but I just can’t turn down a taste of that ambrosia. Very well.”

Berholm moved a couple of treasure chests to use as chairs, and Noah filled the two gaudiest goblets in the vault with fine liquor.

“To a rousing good tournament,” Berholm said in a toast. They knocked their cups and drank deeply. “Ah, that really is the nectar of the gods. You gave Cyrilo the recipe, didn’t you?”

“Indeed. I came up with it a long time ago and made sure I burned the ingredients into my very soul.”

“I’ve known her for around fifteen years or so.” He held out his cup, and Noah refilled it. “Back then, we in the knighthood were trying to curb the trouble our young recruits were causing at brothels. I frequently had to stop by to drag the debaucherous fools out of bar and her courtesans’ out of their laps, and we built up a rapport over the years. To think she and those two friends of yours managed to bring down the church.”

“I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my time. I wish I could have seen that. But if anyone could have done it, it’s them.”

Berholm took another drink. “I should have seen it, seen it coming, I mean. For the church to be doing such shady dealings under my very nose, to besmirch our honor by wearing our crest while they did their dirty work. I was too trusting of my subordinates, and look where it led. I offered the king my resignation when I found out, too ashamed to retain my title. He refused, and told me to earn it back. He was a good friend, gave me a chance when I had nothing.”

“What happened?”

“King Leonard once visited Vandheim as part of a diplomatic meeting. At the time, our nations were feuding over the socioeconomic impact of the volatile price of copper. I was the regent tasked with escorting him through the capital, relaying messages between him and the dwarven royalty, and making sure his visit went smoothly and safely. For the first few days, things were fine. I watched everything with the eyes of a hawk.

About halfway through the trip, one of the king’s bodyguards was slain in a failed assassination attempt. Without a clear culprit, it seemed like the issue could trigger a war. Fortunately, I was able to solve the murder and avert a political catastrophe. The mastermind was caught, and I was a hero, briefly. It turned out that the one behind the attack was a high-ranking member of Vandheim’s imperial court. To prevent a scandal, the dwarven king was ready to pin the attack on someone else and deal with the mastermind quietly, behind closed doors, but my exposure ended up leaving a lot of egg on the country’s face.

I was exiled for my actions, but King Leonard, impressed with my abilities and service, offered me the position of Royal Adjudicator, and tasked me with performing investigations on his behalf and for the sake of the nation. I’ve been here ever since. Then those girls ended up doing my job for me, and I’ve had to suffer the shame of my failure ever since.”

“Do you ever miss it? Vandheim?”

“Who among us doesn’t dream of home? Every now and then I’ll think of it. So close, but so far away. Still, I’m happy in Colbrand, being among humans has shown me that dwarvish customs and etiquette aren’t always the best. Do you have a place you dream of?”

“Sylphtoria, what I hope will be my final resting place. Beyond that, I’ve never really had a true home. I’ve had places where I was born, places where I grew up, places where I lived, places where I died, but they were all… temporary. I’m just a wanderer, raising families but never truly putting down roots.”

“So you’re really as old as you say?”

“I honestly don’t know how old I am. I’ve lost track of years, decades, entire lifetimes, due much in part to stuff like this,” he said, shaking his cup. “My best estimate is around seven thousand years.”

“That’s a lot of drinks.”

“It’s a lot of everything. I used to think that my job, my purpose, was to solve and prevent disasters and to use my knowledge for the good of the world I was born on. I ended wars, cured diseases, overthrew tyrants, solved world hunger and poverty, averted meteors, pacified super volcanos, vanquished alien conquerors, everything. Did you know that centuries of deforestation and pollution will alter the climate in disastrous ways? It was a problem I had to solve over and over again, each time like pulling teeth because of all the fools who refused to acknowledge unpleasant threats.

For a while, that kept me going, thinking that I was making a difference, that I was saving lives, entire worlds, but eventually, I realized… it just didn’t matter. There is always another problem to solve, another disaster to clean up after, another fool acting out of his own self-interest yet AGAINST his own self-interest, and no matter how many people I saved, there were always more that I couldn’t. And even after I saved a world from one big fuck-up, I knew there was another one right around the corner. I’d just be reborn into another shitty reality that needed someone to clean up the mess. At the end of the day, all my altruistic efforts were little more than sweeping the floors of a house already up in flames.”

“So helping us with the Profane, what’s that? Old habits dying hard?”

“That’s certainly part of it. I keep telling myself that I’m done, that I quit, and then something happens… and I get dragged into it.”

“Help us defeat the Profane, and I’ll make sure you won’t get dragged into any more of our messes.”

“But there will be more. There are always more. A long time ago, I was in Oppenstas, helping to fight against an army of machines that were waging a war against humanity. It seemed like an interesting way to pass the time. Think manufactured automatons, made of metal and moving of their own will, each one with a mind, but no soul. They operated out of a conquered country called Thorga, and for decades, they enslaved and slaughtered the people of the surrounding nations. I was helping my friend, the son of the High Minister of Oppenstas, who was leading the rebellion after his father was killed.

Things were dire, and we thought the human race was doomed, but when all hope seemed lost, the last bastions of humanity joined together, and we finally managed to defeat the machine menace. I was there when the war ended, standing in the very heart of the enemy command center. And do you know what I found? The machines were being controlled by people, the officials of Thorga, who used the automatons to oppress the world so that they could rule it. It was never man vs. machine; it was just the same old story of people killing people. I slaughtered the rulers and destroyed the evidence, let the world believe that humanity had successfully united to defeat an outside threat, that for once, the spirit of mankind had redeemed itself. The lie was forever etched into history.

My friend, who had proved his quality as a man and a leader, took on his father’s position to become the new High Chancellor. In his inauguration speech, he claimed that it was the dawn of the age of peace, and that the nations of man, who had formed bonds of blood and brotherhood in the horrors of war, could now put down their weapons and live in harmony. It was a beautiful speech. He spent the rest of his career fighting in war after war as the bonds between nations, forged through so much death and suffering, were immediately forgotten the moment problems started to arise.

I retired from all that drama, having had my fill of war for a while, and returned to my nice, quiet hometown to raise a family.” As Noah spoke, his face changed, taking on the appearance of his past life, but what shocked Berholm was that half of his face and his body underneath his clothes were horribly burned and shredded. “Then, one day, a bomb dropped on my home. Think of it as like a giant fire spell.

My wife and children were inside and had the good fortune of dying instantly in the explosion. I was working outside at the time, but as you can see, I was in the blast range. It took me longer to die, lying there in the dirt with half of my body charred down to the bone, listening to bombs rain on my town and reduce the people to ash. It’s just the same old story again and again: people killing people. The end of one war simply clears the board for the next one.

The power of the Profane corrupts and destroys, but in a way, it’s a lot like alcohol. It doesn’t change who you are; it just reveals it. The elite Profane I’ve encountered, the mighty who retained their free will, they had their own motivations. Whether it was a lust for power, the desire for a worthy foe, or resentment against a world that shunned and ridiculed them, the power of the Profane simply allowed them to act on those negative feelings. At the end of the day, they were still the same people they were before, just strong enough to finally be their true selves. You can claim you’re fighting for good, for justice, for peace, but even with the Profane as your enemy, ultimately, you can’t break the pattern. It’s still just people killing people.”

After receiving the truth serum and other treasures from Berholm, Noah made the walk back to Valia’s home. The Knight’s Ambrosia in his system had loosened him up a bit, but he was still more than capable of dealing with any bounty hunters out and about. However, the one who found him wasn’t after money.

“Darling….”

Hearing that familiar voice, Noah, in his invisible state, stopped in his tracks, with his clone doing the same. He would have to play this carefully. “I was wondering when you would find me.”

He looked down the street, seeing Bella. She stood in the darkness, naked and powerful. Her stature and physical characteristics had changed, but he would recognize her anywhere. Her face, however, was uneven. Her left side was normal, gazing at him lovingly with her soft lips forming a smile. The other half was downright demonic. Her right cheek was split all the way up the side of her head, exposing long, needle-like teeth, while her right eye was wide with the pupil dilated to the absolute max and black as coal, showing the insanity bubbling within her.

He could also sense her power, and it was staggering. Of all the Profane he had encountered so far, she was, without question, the deadliest. It was no wonder she had been able to kill the king, along with so many knights and soldiers. From the reports of the battle, her abilities were simple: extreme speed, resilience, and cutting blades. However, even among the elite Profane, she could be considered a supremely dangerous anomaly, a mutant that seemed impossible to kill.

Noah turned his clone towards her. “It’s been a while, Bella.”

“Darling!”

She leaped towards him, faster than he had anticipated, with her clawed fingers reaching out. He wasn’t sure whether she wanted to embrace him like a lover or tear into him like a lioness eating a gazelle, but she passed through his clone and skidded across the ground in confusion.

“Easy, love. Take it slow, gentle.” He stepped back into his clone and held out his hand to her. “Come here.”

She threw her arms around him, holding him painfully tight and lifting him off his feet. At the very least, she smelled sweet. She bathed before coming here, wanting to properly present herself to her love.

“Finally, you’re here! My beloved darling! I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Bella. It’s good to see you,” he said, struggling to breathe.

Then, without warning, she leaped high into the air, taking him with her. He didn’t resist, allowing her to carry him away as she jumped across Colbrand like a grasshopper, soon bringing him to the bell tower of a nearby cathedral. She laid him out below the bell and held herself over him, reminding Noah of when he was stuck in Carthace’s web.

“You left me behind. You hurt me, darling,” she growled as her face transformed, with the beautiful and demonic sides swapping.

“I had to, Bella. After what I did to the princes, I was a wanted man. How could I not punish them for their crimes?” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “That fire burned your beautiful hair. They had to suffer for that.”

“Oh darling, you always know what to say to make me blush!” she squealed. But then she snapped back to murderous rage.

“But why didn’t you take me with you? You left with that elf bitch when you should have brought me! We could have traveled the world together, made our home anywhere! Was I not good enough for you?”

“If I took you with me, you would have died, trust me. I had vital business to deal with and couldn’t risk endangering my sweet bunny. I thought you’d be safe here in Colbrand until I could come back for you.”

“I’ve been watching you since you arrived, following you on your evening walks. Many bounty hunters were after you, trying to ambush you, but I made them go away. I ate them so that they wouldn’t bother you. Sometimes I’d let one through, just so I would watch you rip them apart. Seeing your sword hack them to pieces and spill their blood made me so wet! And what do you do? Stroll around with that elf and horse girl. Are you trying to anger me, darling?”

“Well, I needed something to play with during my travels. You know me, I have a lot of stress and lust to release. They aren’t nearly as good as you are, though. They’re my mistresses, but you’re the only one fit to be my wife. Strong men are followed by many women, and you are the crown jewel.”

Once again, Bella went from violent to giddy, blushing and squealing in excitement as her face balanced to pure beauty. “That’s not fair, darling! How am I supposed to be mad when your sweet words make me melt?”

“I never meant to hurt you, Bella. Fate conspired to keep us apart, but we’re together again.”

“Yes, together at last! Now, how about we consummate our reunion?”

“Just don’t go ripping up my clothes.”

Noah sat up and joined his lips with hers, letting their tongues swirl together. However, Bella’s was much longer than before, now sliding down his throat. As they kissed, Bella pushed his coat off his shoulders, and Noah removed his shirt. His lips left hers so that they could find her breasts, while his fingers slipped between her legs and found her dripping in anticipation. He stirred her up, priming the pump and drawing moans of bliss. Fortunately, Noah was projecting mana to conceal the two of them. He was already in enough hot water with the church and kingdom, and the last thing he needed was to get caught fucking the regicidal Profane assassin in the cathedral bell tower.

“Darling, your fingers feel so good! Oh God, I missed this!” she cried, holding his head tight against her chest.

Noah laid her on her back, continuing to bully her ample breasts with his tongue while he finger-blasted her into oblivion. She arched her back, screaming like a banshee as he brought her to climax, but as always, Noah didn’t ease up until he made her squirt. As he played with her,

Noah studied her body’s reaction. Her muscles were quivering in ways he had never seen before, as if completely changing shape and transforming beneath her flesh. Her bones crackled as her joints bent back and forth, with her limbs and digits twisting all the way around. While moaning, even her head rotated a full 360º like Ingram’s.

He had yet to encounter a Profane that could spontaneously transform like this. It was like her body was constantly rebuilding itself, depending on what she was experiencing. However, once he finally pulled his fingers away, she returned to her original state. Her earlier king-killing rampage didn’t even leave her out of breath, but now she was greedily sucking in air from fatigue.

“Only you can make me cum like that,” she panted.

“A good man takes care of his woman.”

“And a good woman takes care of her man. I need to taste it.”

Before Noah could respond, Bella yanked off the rest of his clothes and swallowed his cock. He had been worried about her needle teeth, but whether she could retract them or change their shape, it wasn’t an issue. She gargled on his manhood more aggressively than ever before, rolling her eyes back in pleasure as though Noah was going down on her instead. As always, he messaged her ears while she worked, making her shiver in pleasure.

“Hmph! I’ve missed your flavor!” she groaned.

Her oral skills were even better than he remembered, due much in part to her Profane body. Her long tongue would curl around his dick like a boa constrictor to jack him off, and she’d bob her head rapidly, reaching speeds that would have injured the spine of a normal woman, all while the sloppy sound of suction forming and breaking kept getting louder and louder. She took it as deep as she could, pressing her face against his stomach, even transforming her jaw so that she could get his balls onto her tongue, all while saliva poured down her chin and onto her tits.

However, it wasn’t enough for Bella. She picked Noah up without effort and held him above her head like a barbell while she continued sucking him off. Noah experienced this a long time ago when he dated a female bodybuilder. She called it the “human juice box” move. It wasn’t a very comfortable position, but it was pretty entertaining. Feeling no need to hold back, he released himself into her mouth, filling her senses with the taste of cum. She lowered him to the floor while rolling his semen around her mouth, groaning in happiness before finally swallowing.

“God, such sweet seed, so delicious! I want to drown in it.”

“You’re such a greedy girl, Bella. Don’t ever change.”

“Please, I need more. Do what you did to that girl on stage with your tongue. I’m not a whore anymore. I’m your woman.”

“You’ve indeed been patient.”

She laid back and spread her legs for him, putting her large furry rabbit feet up in the air, and Noah went down on her voraciously. Much like Carthace, Bella had a unique taste as a woman of the Profane. One might call it bitter, but in much the same way that coffee and alcohol are bitter, yet you keep drinking out of love and need. He could sense her flesh reacting to him once again, changing shape to meet his efforts. It felt less like performing cunnilingus and more like making out. It was a unique, first-time experience for him, something he rarely got to say. He pushed her even further, working his middle finger into his anus.

“Oh yes! Yes! YES!” Bella moaned, rolling her head from side to side as Noah used his tongue and fingers to drive her even more insane. “God, yes! Don’t stop!”

After her last orgasm, her sensitivity left her without any defenses, and he once more gifted her with euphoria. She moaned at the top of her lungs, putting Noah’s concealment to the test, but he managed to contain her voice. He sat up, wiping her arousal from his lips.

“You ready?”

“Since the day you left.”

Noah moved atop her into missionary and slid his sword into her eager sheath. There was no friction, nothing to slow him down as he began slamming away, driving into her with deep strokes, all to her cries of ecstasy. If anything, she’d be annoyed by any gentleness. He fucked her hard and fast, just the way she liked, while their tongues were once more intertwined. The problem was that a lot had changed since their last fling at the Knight’s Sheath, and as Noah’s intensity grew, so did Bella’s monster characteristics.

Noah had plenty of experience with women digging their nails into his back when he made them climax, but Bella was clawing at him with demonic talons, carving deep into his skin. Though he was well-versed in rough trade and sadomasochistic extremes when it came to sex, this was getting dangerous. He pinned her hands to keep her still, but as his blood spilled, the smell drove Bella even further. Her beauty began to recede, with her face taking on the horrific mask from earlier. Her eyes grew wide and black, and her cheeks receded as her teeth extended and sharpened, with a carnivorous growl smoldering in her throat. What should have been a love bite made in a moment of passion was instead Bella sinking her fangs into Noah’s shoulder and drinking his blood.

Noah wrenched his shoulder out of her mouth. “Hey, hey, that’s enough. Now you’re going a little too far.”

He tried to pull away, but she wrapped her legs around his waist. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said with a deep, monstrous voice.

An ordinary man would have been terrified, fearing for his life but too afraid to stand up to her. That did not apply to Noah. He grabbed her throat, a seemingly pointless action considering that strangulation couldn’t kill her, and gazed into her pit-like eyes with his own chillingly cold.

“Let go, Bella. You’re starting to make me mad. If this is how you’re going to act, then I don’t—”

Bella immediately reverted to her old self, her eyes regaining their original color and now shedding tears. “I’m sorry, darling! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please don’t hate me!”

Noah released her throat and caressed her cheek. “Shhhh, hey, hey, it’s all right. This is just something we need to work on. Come here, give me a kiss, bunny.” She sat up and kissed him, filling his mouth with the taste of blood. He conjured a healing potion from his ring and drank it, closing his wounds. “See? Good as new. Now, let’s switch. I love the look on your face when you’re on top.”

Without pulling out of Bella, he rolled onto his back with her now riding him. She wasted no time, bouncing on his manhood like a pogo stick, once again moaning in bliss. Thanks to the animal-like bone structure in her legs, she could compress them like springs, allowing her to rise and fall with perfect verticality and move with greater speed. Her ample breasts heaved as she rode him, while her insides massaged his member like she was trying to milk him.

“Your cock feels so good, darling! You’re the only one who can make me feel this way!” she whined with flushed cheeks and eyes full of love.

“Bella, I’m going to cum,” Noah grunted.

“Please cum, darling! I want it all!”

Noah grabbed her hips and once again grunted as he flooded her with his seed. Bella climaxed with him, relishing the sensation of him painting her insides with his thick semen. The two stopped to catch their breath, with Noah softening inside her.

“Hey, Bella, see that guard wall there? Go over to it and bend over.”

The wall encircled the top of the tower, ensuring nobody would fall over. Eager for what was to come, Bella dismounted and walked over with Noah’s semen running down her thighs. She bent over, shaking her ass as he came up behind her.

She expected him to simply mount her, but yelped in surprise when she felt his tongue instead of his cock. The elite Profane produced no bodily waste, sweat, or odors, with all the biomass they ingested used to sustain their rapid regeneration, so she was sweat to eat. He swirled his tongue around her back door, eating her out aggressively while he used one hand to stir up his semen in her pussy and the other hand to play with her tail. Bella moaned blissfully as Noah explored her recesses, feeling like his tongue was even longer than hers.

Once she was ready, Noah grabbed her by the hips and drove into her anus with a brutal shove, making Bella moan like an opera singer. He gave her no time to prepare herself, his thrusts hammering her rear with the speed and strength to turn her into jelly. She held onto the guard wall like she was caught in a flood, the two of them looking out across the city as Noah tamed her ass. Her breasts shook like chandeliers from his thrusts, with ripples moving through her flesh and making her tail twitch. Were it not for Noah’s mana wrapped around the two of them, all of Colbrand would hear her lewd moans.

“Harder! Faster! My ass needs more! It’s so good!”

Noah gave her everything he had, brutalizing her anus for their mutual pleasure. Like with Duska, he was taking advantage of her Profane durability, fucking her harder than normal women could bear. After a few minutes, the two of them shared one final orgasm, with Bella moaning at the top of her lungs and then going limp. Noah spent several moments catching his breath, then pulled out, sending semen pouring out of both her vagina and anus.

“I’ve missed this so much,” Bella panted. “Finally, we can be together.”

“It’s not that simple, love.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve done some terrible stuff while I’ve been gone; killed a lot of people, including the king.”

“But I did that for you!”

“I never asked you to or wanted you to. Listen, I’m not angry, but the situation is complicated. Before we can be together, you need to make amends for what you’ve done so that everyone won’t hate us. They consider you a monster, but I can help you become their hero. Right now, Uther is at war with the Profane, the same group you’ve become a part of, and they must be eliminated until only you remain, my one and only Bella. For that, I need your help.”

“You need my help?” she asked, nearly crying in joy.

“Of course, you’re the only one I can count on. You’re going to be my secret spy in the Profane. You’re going to find them, join their ranks, learn their secrets, and when the time is right, help me kill them. You’re powerful now, powerful enough that I can rely on you.” Noah gave her a jewel collected from the palace treasury. “The Profane have a mobile base. Find it, hide this jewel somewhere within, and I’ll be able to track it down and find you.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to!”

“That’s my girl. There is a succubus that I’ve already enslaved and have working for me. Her name is Duska, and I have her searching for Prince Lupin. I want the two of you to work together to help me save him and defeat the Profane. I don’t trust her the way I trust you, so I need you to keep an eye on her and make sure she stays loyal, but please be nice. I’d like it if you could get along. It might be a while before we can see each other again, but you’re the only one I trust to do this. Understand?”

“Yes, of course! Don’t worry, darling! I’ll make you proud, and then we’ll be together forever!”

She then kissed him deeply and proceeded to jump off the bell tower. She landed below gracefully and took off in a sprint on all fours. Noah watched her disappear into the night and stretched. She was far too dangerous and unpredictable to keep around, but for now, she could be quite useful. At the moment, though, his main concern was washing up. Valia and Shannon both had keen noses, and he didn’t need them picking up the scent of Profane lust on him. They were already quite familiar with the smell.
1 comments

oldFReport 

2025-02-06 11:22:23
really like how bella is used against the profaine. Love the story line, nice how he keeps finding ways to get better

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