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This bounty hunter had spent years doing his job, hunting down criminals like they were beasts and putting his life on the line time and time again, bereft of fear. He had heard plenty of threats before, plenty of warnings about what would happen if he continued his endeavors, and shrugged them off. That said, the man before him was projecting so much hatred, so much sadistic killing intent, that he felt a chill crawl up his spine, a chill he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before. It didn’t matter if the man before him was his target or not. He promptly turned and left, wanting to get as far away from the Knight’s Sheath and this rapacious lunatic as possible. Once he was gone, everyone in the bar applauded Noah’s performance, and he turned and bowed.

“I don’t know, I saw something, stars I didn’t recognize—dark stars. It felt like they were crushing me.”“Have you ever felt anything like this before?” Shannon asked.

He conjured a gas mask and metal canister from his ring, alchemically-formed, as was the carbon monoxide within. Any time the two brothers separated, Noah would creep up beside Falco and spray him with the gas. Odorless and colorless, Falco was completely unaware, mistaking the air on his face for the wind, with Noah using his mana to conceal the sound of the gas being released. It wouldn’t leave lasting damage, nor was it a threat to the crowds, but the more Falco breathed it in, the weaker he became.