horrortale papyrus

Roc struggled against Ingram, but desperation made the man’s grip as solid as steel shackles. With all three limbs and one of his wings locked in Ingram’s grip, he could do nothing to fight back. He couldn’t even save himself when Ingram finally let go. Was this it? Was he going to lose? Was he going to die? If he just had his arm, he could win, but without it, this was the end. Plummeting towards the ground, he glanced at the useless remains of the appendage. If he at least had his elbow, he could have affixed a wooden hand or a blade, something to help even him out, but he was just left with a useless stump, like a clipped wing.“Damn you, Noah,” he hissed.

He attacked Ingram, and the two went at it again, exchanging kicks and punches while the audience cheered them on. The winged fighters were throwing everything they had at each other, with adrenaline flooding their veins and the blood steaming as it flowed from their wounds. Every lesson they had ever learned, every technique they had acquired, every spark of experience they had, they directed into their moves, punching and kicking as hard as they could, with mana roaring around their limbs.

Noah took a sip of tea. “I can understand why you would come to me for this, why you sought my judgment, but I am the wrong person to go to for ethical counseling. I have no moral code, no righteous instinct. I have done truly wicked things in the past, and the only regret I feel is the effort I wasted on amoral endeavors that failed to bear fruit. I’m in no place to judge you for what happened.