rfswitched

Roc left the ring, eager to get his wounds treated, though putting on a brave face. As he entered the hypogeum below, Foley met him. “Nice work out there. Just don’t go thinking that your fancy kicks will knock me over like him.”

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.

At that moment, Roc was helpless, and Ingram didn’t let the chance go to waste. He kneed Roc in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs, and then grabbed Roc by the arm and one of his wings and leaped off the edge of the arena. In midair, he seized Roc’s legs with his feet, leaving him unable to fly or resist as he took to the air, rising into the sky above the arena, and then dropping into a divebomb. His plan was simple: fall towards the arena with Roc in his grip, then let go and pull back, sending Roc crashing into the ground before landing daintily like a butterfly over the pulverized eagle warrior.