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Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

Cyrilo flashed a wry smile. “All the low-rank fighters have been purged, so now the real show will begin. Besides, with this tournament going on, I barely get any customers during the day, so I might as well close up and go see what all the fuss is about.”“Man, this is so cool,” said Daniel. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome. All we need is a few lions and some Christians to feed to them.”

“But though we’ve gone to war with the church, I am still a devout believer in Lumendori. I told Cyrilo that by helping her, I was dirtying my soul in the eyes of God, and that’s how I truly feel. Ever since that night, I’ve been unable to pray, and I feel so alone. I’m left wondering by what right I have to ask Lumendori for protection or forgiveness, having involved myself in the purest evil. Have I turned my back on God, or has God turned his back on me?”