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Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.

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“She was crying, begging me to stop, saying that I was hurting her. I just laughed, telling her she should be grateful to receive my affection, and that nothing in her life would compare to the glory of bearing my child. Galvin always told me that it didn’t matter what happened to the weak; it was our birthright to take what we wanted because we were superior in blood and magic. I wanted to believe him, because with him, I wasn’t alone. We had fun, we laughed, and we dismissed everyone and everything that got in our way. I wanted to believe that there was nothing wrong with us, even if, deep down, I knew the truth.