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Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Roc took to the air, flying in loops over the arena. People in the audience shielded their eyes from the sun and pointed at him, trying to keep him in their sights as his speed grew. As he built up his acceleration, he channeled mana into his right leg, and a sheath of energy enveloped eagle talons. “Decisive Divebomb,” he cast, prompting a magic circle to appear around his ankle. Beast Art, the combination of shamanism and monk magic. When he fought Aithorn, he could only use basic mana enhancement on his attacks, but by honing his monk magic by fighting Seraph over and over, his training back in the Ashok Mountains had been fruitful, and he had reached the league of true beastman warriors.

His opponent was a water mage, Phune, garbed in fitting robes and carrying a grimoire. He had a vague understanding of Phune’s magic, having heard the screams and seen the injuries his previous enemies had received when carried out of the ring. The ref started the match, and Phune was quick to open his grimoire while Seraph set off in a run.“Scalding Splash!” Phune cast.

“I don't have any to give—it really just depends,” I shrugged and giggled. “I pretty much always just let him go at his own pace now, but I've learned to kind of enjoy that final stretch he gives me when he's popping out, even if it still hurts a little. It's up to you.”