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“Well, it can be pretty scary at times. When we were in Welindar, he would experiment on members of the Pack, injecting them with various drugs to study their reaction, or slicing them open to see how they worked inside. Early on, I was actually frightened of him, this man who could do the most terrifying things so easily. However, I soon took notice of his skill.

Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.

“Aiding the Profane may be the best investment I’ve ever made. They’re the perfect enemy to unite Uther against.”“Yes, but are you sure this is the best way to build support? Destruction and casualties under Galvin’s watch will turn the people against him, won’t it?”