anissa viltrumite

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Roc took to the air, flying in loops over the arena. People in the audience shielded their eyes from the sun and pointed at him, trying to keep him in their sights as his speed grew. As he built up his acceleration, he channeled mana into his right leg, and a sheath of energy enveloped eagle talons. “Decisive Divebomb,” he cast, prompting a magic circle to appear around his ankle. Beast Art, the combination of shamanism and monk magic. When he fought Aithorn, he could only use basic mana enhancement on his attacks, but by honing his monk magic by fighting Seraph over and over, his training back in the Ashok Mountains had been fruitful, and he had reached the league of true beastman warriors.

“Cardinal Phelps! It was Cardinal Phelps! He ordered me to kill you! It’s as you say, because of Seraph and the Knight’s Sheath. Do you have any idea how much damage you caused this country and the church with your sins? Uther was mighty, with a bright future! Then you came along, sowing seeds of discord, driving a wedge between the kingdom and the gods, and crippling our savior! Had you stayed in exile, you would have been left alone, but you being here now will bring nothing but trouble!”

“Like mother like daughter, I said,” he chuckled. “She needed to know. And as you can see, teasing aside, she hardly disapproves.”