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“He—” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, a foreign, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. “Help!” My voice was so weak and thready, there was no way anyone would hear me, not through what I was now recognizing as sound-proof padding on the walls. What had happened to me? I couldn't remember. I didn't know where I was, had no idea why I was here.

“I’m surrounded by the foolish and weak. At least you’re competent, Strauss. Helping you climb the ranks of advisors to back up my plans has been monumental. If only you could deal with Noah. Every time I even think about him, let alone hear his name, I struggle to contain my hatred, and perhaps it is traveling down the line of control. I can also sense Galvin’s terror widening the cracks in his psyche. Two decades of work and planning nearly ruined because of that vile snake. I was betting on Seraph to be one of the foundations of my war against the Profane, to plant him on the front line with Adwith Tarnas and have them rack up victories while Galvin received the people’s adoration, and now he’s just a shadow of his former self.

Now fully powered up, he flew up high above the city where no one could see him, then turned and rocketed straight down, using his wings to augment the speed of his descent. As with his fight against the wolf fiend during the Red Revelry, he adjusted his trajectory at the last moment, curving his descent. His enemy raised his shield, putting everything he had into his defense, but Roc’s power was too great. He kicked the man’s shield with all the magical and kinetic force he could muster, striking like a meteorite. His enemy resisted valiantly, but his footing gave way, and Roc smashed him into the ground, carving a trench through the earth before slamming him against the wall of the arena. Brick and mortar cracked like so many bones, and the man went limp with blood dripping from his mouth.