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Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.

“Die under your own terms, maybe, but I will not let you slip into oblivion easily. There are so many wonderful, horrible things I can do to make you spill those secrets, to make you bargain for a quick death. You’ll try to maintain your dignity as long as you can. I have no doubt that you’ll put up a valiant effort; you are quite strong, after all. However, you will inevitably break and curse your own stubbornness for not talking sooner.”

Seraph circled Phune, avoiding the mage’s attacks while replying with blasts of holy energy. They were small and weak bursts, as Seraph had little mana to spare, and were meant to distract more than harm, at least long enough for him to get in close and land a hit with his mace. That said, Phune wouldn’t have made it this far in the tournament if he could be defeated by such rudimentary tactics. He was quick on his feet, able to dodge with great skill and summon water barriers to block Seraph’s magic. Seraph was being kept at a distance, and getting in too close without a proper opening would be suicide.