holly j johnston

“Seraph overstepped and suffered for it. The clergy overstepped and suffered for it. You are all suffering for the choices you made. It’s as simple as that. However, I consider myself a sensible, forgiving man.” Noah released Bojena and stepped back. “I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with the church. In fact, I would like to form an alliance, so tell me, what do I have to do to make this all go away? What mountain must I move for the church to get off my back and on my side?”

“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.

Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.