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After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.

He joined back with his clone, and as she reached out towards him for a slash across the throat, he drew his sword and blocked her attack. The ring of energized wind should have broken or at least chipped the blade, but Noah’s sword was enchanted to resist and repel magic attacks. The woman leaped back, hurling her rings at Noah, and he shattered them with two swings of his sword, then closed the distance in the blink of an eye and aimed for a stab to the chest.

“It's okay, baby,” she said. “I'm sure we'll end up taking turns. But for tonight, I just really want to remember what it was like when you were little, and you used to come sleep with us when you were scared. That means you get the middle.”