ashby winter

In their exchange, Seraph finally managed to wing Phune with a holy blast, leaving his arm numb, but with a frustrated snarl, Phune waved his other arm and hit Seraph in the leg with a sphere of water. Seraph collapsed, howling in pain as the water dissolved his clothes and flesh. He had felt this burning before, this corrosion of his skin. Noah had used acid against him during their fight, and right now, a tsunami of bad memories was washing over him. In his mind, he was back in the slums with Noah standing over him. Considering where the arena was built and where Noah was watching from, his delusion wasn’t far from reality. He couldn’t go through that pain again, that horror.

Once again, Seraph thought back to Foley, and how they faced off in their duel at the academy. The stubborn dwarf had withstood a similar attack from Seraph, deflecting Seraph’s light blast even while spitting up blood. Seraph kept that image in his mind and slowly began to approach Phune. Now, it was a war of attrition to see who would lose their strength first. Would Seraph falter and be annihilated, or would Phune’s burning river turn into a dripping faucet? With every step Seraph took, that question echoed through the minds of everyone observing. The audience sat with bated breath, waiting to see if their prince would succeed.

“I was the one who gave her the bottle, though technically, I was just acting as the courier. She was after a special potion and accidentally received that venom instead.”“Then you know it’s her—our—fault that Bella went on her rampage.”“You couldn’t have known what would happen.”