bimbette

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.

Sure that the replica headband was safe, he took a deep breath and put it on. The second the knot was tied, his whole body spasmed and became rigid, leaving him unable to move, as if he were awake during surgery. It was a strange sensation, like every muscle had a weight attached. Fortunately, his heart and lungs seemed unencumbered, so he wasn’t in danger, and he could also still speak, probably so that the user could call for help since they likely wouldn’t be able to remove the headband on their own, but no matter how much he pushed or pulled, he could not resist the invisible binds. Saimallah said that the wearer could only move by keeping their mana energized and flowing at full capacity, so that’s what Noah focused on.

“I’m just a lowly mercenary. That’s all they see me as. They hire me to do their spying, to fulfill the tasks they can’t, but they don’t have to respect me as long as they throw money at me. No matter what I do or how many times I risk my life, I’m an expendable asset. They’d never let someone like me into the knighthood on my own merits, not a filthy beastman, but I’m going to change that. Once I win this tournament and become a silver-rank knight, I’ll command authority and respect. They’ll have to acknowledge me and all beastmen.”“How noble,” Roc scoffed.