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“Take that, bug!” he laughed as he knocked his foe through the air; Thera, a woman with long hair, and wielding two whips of suspended water. She had blocked at the last moment, reforming her weapons into a barrier that cushioned the impact, but she was sent flying like a golf ball by his swinging arm and hit the ground, rolling in much the same way. “This is amazing, I get to slaughter people, and the crowds love me for it!” Despite his words, no one was cheering for him, but this violent brute was certainly under their wary gaze.

He raised his gun and put a round between her eyes, causing Bojena to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut. All of the illusory bullets he hit her with before made her flinch in momentary fear, but this was different. At that moment, she felt death in all of its horror. She felt the darkness, the chill, the metallic taste of the end. This man, she had heard so many rumors about him, and he had defeated her so easily, but now she was left to wonder, was Death itself standing over her?

After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.