frankie loompah

After the third round of fights, the tournament was suspended until the next day, and everyone returned home. Sitting at the desk in Valon’s room, Noah was busy replicating the headband he got from Saimallah. He had already used alchemy to create an exact replica, including the engraved runes, and was now applying a suitable ink. As he worked, he scrutinized the formula repeatedly, making sure it did what it was supposed to. For all he knew, putting it on could brand him with a curse. In his long years across the multiverse, he had learned to always look a gift horse in the mouth. Reading the formula was like reading a contract, and he had to be wary of fine print.

Viktor then walked past them with a confident smirk. He was Noah’s next target. What concerned him, though, was that Reiss was nowhere to be found. He was down in the hypogeum during the intermission. Was he using the lavatory? Viktor was standing by the ref, waiting for his opponent to show. If Reiss didn’t show up, he would win by default. The crowds quickly started to murmur in confusion, wondering what the hold-up was. Eventually, the ref had to act.“Since Reiss has not appeared for his fight, he is declared—”

“You’ll get him next time, sport,” Noah said under his breath as the defeated warrior was carried off. Already, the gas had dissipated in the open air, fading into nothingness above the crowds.