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It hit him dead-on, with the audience looking away, not wanting to see their prince reduced to a pile of melted bones, but though steam and smoke filled the air around Seraph, he was unharmed, albeit soaked. His aura had protected him, undoing the magic enhancement on the water, so when it hit him, it was chemically inert. The moment the blast ended, Seraph dropped his defenses, gasping for air from fatigue. What he would give to be even half as powerful as he was a year ago. He didn’t have time to rest, as Phune immediately commenced another attack. A continuous jet of water slammed against his raised palms and clashed with the light aura before him. Every loose drop hitting the ground smoked from the acidic burn, a reminder of what would happen if his strength or focus faltered for even a second.

During Foley and Saimallah’s matches, Noah dealt with Reiss’s corpse. He laid the body on the ground and pulled out two magical tools, each with a different enchantment. All the time spent runecrafting was for situations just like this. He stabbed the body with the first tool, the hollow rib of a powerful aquatic monster, prompting blue runes to glow along the side, and then water began to shoot out like a straw. It was water magic, draining all of the moisture from Reiss’s body and causing him to shrivel up like dried fruit.

“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”