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The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.

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.

“Seraph overstepped and suffered for it. The clergy overstepped and suffered for it. You are all suffering for the choices you made. It’s as simple as that. However, I consider myself a sensible, forgiving man.” Noah released Bojena and stepped back. “I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with the church. In fact, I would like to form an alliance, so tell me, what do I have to do to make this all go away? What mountain must I move for the church to get off my back and on my side?”