tina armstrong

Suffice it to say, Valia wasn’t giving Noah an inch. On the plus side, he had completely forgotten about his magical restraints, as he was too preoccupied with fending her off and trying to circumvent her guard. The effort needed to move never got easier, but it was steadily becoming second nature, and it all came down to stamina. He was doing better than he thought we would. He could also sense how much Valia had dulled during her weeks of recovery, but her skills were sharpening with every clash of their swords. Her muscles, which had softened from bedrest, were regaining their firmness.Eventually, the two of them separated, each gasping for air. “Ready to take back what you said?” Valia teased.

After the third round of fights, the tournament was suspended until the next day, and everyone returned home. Sitting at the desk in Valon’s room, Noah was busy replicating the headband he got from Saimallah. He had already used alchemy to create an exact replica, including the engraved runes, and was now applying a suitable ink. As he worked, he scrutinized the formula repeatedly, making sure it did what it was supposed to. For all he knew, putting it on could brand him with a curse. In his long years across the multiverse, he had learned to always look a gift horse in the mouth. Reading the formula was like reading a contract, and he had to be wary of fine print.

Her breathing ragged, Bojena glared at him. “I and several of my comrades were released under the condition that I help fight the Profane army. We made our escape in the ensuing panic.”