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“Your loss to Bella does not undo everything you, Sophia, and Cyrilo have accomplished. The literature program you’ve established is a blessing for this world, and you and Sophia managed to take down a gold-ranked knight who was standing in the way of public education. That is no small feat. You’re too young to be focusing on your regrets, on what you couldn’t do. The story of the Bow Mistress is only just beginning. When the war against the Profane is over, they’ll sing songs and legends about you, about how you fought and saved this world. And your clash with Bella? That’ll be a good story for you to tell around the campfire.”

“Take that, bug!” he laughed as he knocked his foe through the air; Thera, a woman with long hair, and wielding two whips of suspended water. She had blocked at the last moment, reforming her weapons into a barrier that cushioned the impact, but she was sent flying like a golf ball by his swinging arm and hit the ground, rolling in much the same way. “This is amazing, I get to slaughter people, and the crowds love me for it!” Despite his words, no one was cheering for him, but this violent brute was certainly under their wary gaze.

He continued digging through the royal vault, analyzing the various relics. He came across one that interested him. It was a large red feather sealed within a crystal. It looked like a mere paperweight, but Noah could sense immense magical energy within it, and it made him curious. He pulled out his spell cards and used them to examine the relic, causing several magic circles to appear in the air, summarizing the magic within. Watching Noah study the piece, Berholm cleared his throat.