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Seraph, his arm raised, slammed his fist against the ground and slowly got up. He channeled his mana to his wound, trying to repair the damage. He may have lost his might as Light’s Emissary, but his abilities, albeit weakened, remained, and new flesh slowly grew to cover the burned tissue so long as he actively focused.“No, I don’t have that right yet. I haven’t suffered enough.”

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Seraph circled Phune, avoiding the mage’s attacks while replying with blasts of holy energy. They were small and weak bursts, as Seraph had little mana to spare, and were meant to distract more than harm, at least long enough for him to get in close and land a hit with his mace. That said, Phune wouldn’t have made it this far in the tournament if he could be defeated by such rudimentary tactics. He was quick on his feet, able to dodge with great skill and summon water barriers to block Seraph’s magic. Seraph was being kept at a distance, and getting in too close without a proper opening would be suicide.