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“I’m just a lowly mercenary. That’s all they see me as. They hire me to do their spying, to fulfill the tasks they can’t, but they don’t have to respect me as long as they throw money at me. No matter what I do or how many times I risk my life, I’m an expendable asset. They’d never let someone like me into the knighthood on my own merits, not a filthy beastman, but I’m going to change that. Once I win this tournament and become a silver-rank knight, I’ll command authority and respect. They’ll have to acknowledge me and all beastmen.”“How noble,” Roc scoffed.

Reiss had been poisoned, likely by Viktor, but without solid proof of his involvement, there was reasonable doubt. Considering that the church and countless other spectators were betting on him, it could have easily been someone else. It seemed there was only one way for Noah to make the fight go how he wanted. He had hoped to avoid involving himself in the tournament like this, but considering how he screwed up Falco’s chances at revenge in the previous round, perhaps it was fitting he be the one to punish Viktor. He placed his hand on Reiss’s corpse and cast his cloning magic, taking on the dead man’s appearance. He then stuffed the body back into the closet, planning on dealing with it later.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.