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Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

“Once again, that half-pint bastard is a thorn in my side. Years spent tiptoeing around him, trying to keep my plans hidden. Soon, we’ll deal with him. As for Veres, I have plans for him. He’s going to pay for what his bitch daughter did. Her little tantrum against marrying Galvin was an annoying setback, but she and that little brothel will pay. To think that the monster that killed Leonard was a whore from the Knight’s Sheath! Saved me all the trouble of doing it myself and framing the Profane! Fate smiles upon me! Cyrilo and Noah ruined my life, and I swear, I’ll get my vengeance on them if it’s the last thing I do! It’s only a matter of proper timing.”

After taking a solid punch to the jaw, Ingram pulled away, needing time to recover. He turned from Roc and dove into the city, trying to open up some distance. Roc chased him through Colbrand, the warriors flying down the city streets and kicking up dust clouds. Pedestrians shrieked and ducked out of the way as they were hit by the resulting pressure waves, with the wake behind the fighters slamming like a hurricane gale.