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Reiss had been poisoned, likely by Viktor, but without solid proof of his involvement, there was reasonable doubt. Considering that the church and countless other spectators were betting on him, it could have easily been someone else. It seemed there was only one way for Noah to make the fight go how he wanted. He had hoped to avoid involving himself in the tournament like this, but considering how he screwed up Falco’s chances at revenge in the previous round, perhaps it was fitting he be the one to punish Viktor. He placed his hand on Reiss’s corpse and cast his cloning magic, taking on the dead man’s appearance. He then stuffed the body back into the closet, planning on dealing with it later.

Cyrilo flashed a wry smile. “All the low-rank fighters have been purged, so now the real show will begin. Besides, with this tournament going on, I barely get any customers during the day, so I might as well close up and go see what all the fuss is about.”“Man, this is so cool,” said Daniel. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome. All we need is a few lions and some Christians to feed to them.”

Once he had been reduced to kindling, Noah pulled him out of the resulting puddle and stabbed him with the second tool, a metal spike wrapping him in smokeless fire. The magic flames worked quickly, reducing him and his clothes to ash in less than a minute. Minus his metal belt buckle and a few shards of bone, all of the trace evidence was removed, and Noah swept the remains into the broom closet. No one would ever know what happened to Reiss, but at least his killer suffered for what he did.