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The following two fights went by with little enthusiasm from the audience. Their thirst for blood had been beyond satiated, and now they were simply left sick. Foley withstood his opponent’s attacks as always, waiting for him to tire before opening his defenses and striking back. Saimallah crushed his opponent without touching him, ending the match in seconds.

He joined back with his clone, and as she reached out towards him for a slash across the throat, he drew his sword and blocked her attack. The ring of energized wind should have broken or at least chipped the blade, but Noah’s sword was enchanted to resist and repel magic attacks. The woman leaped back, hurling her rings at Noah, and he shattered them with two swings of his sword, then closed the distance in the blink of an eye and aimed for a stab to the chest.

Once again, Seraph thought back to Foley, and how they faced off in their duel at the academy. The stubborn dwarf had withstood a similar attack from Seraph, deflecting Seraph’s light blast even while spitting up blood. Seraph kept that image in his mind and slowly began to approach Phune. Now, it was a war of attrition to see who would lose their strength first. Would Seraph falter and be annihilated, or would Phune’s burning river turn into a dripping faucet? With every step Seraph took, that question echoed through the minds of everyone observing. The audience sat with bated breath, waiting to see if their prince would succeed.