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The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Roc took to the air, flying in loops over the arena. People in the audience shielded their eyes from the sun and pointed at him, trying to keep him in their sights as his speed grew. As he built up his acceleration, he channeled mana into his right leg, and a sheath of energy enveloped eagle talons. “Decisive Divebomb,” he cast, prompting a magic circle to appear around his ankle. Beast Art, the combination of shamanism and monk magic. When he fought Aithorn, he could only use basic mana enhancement on his attacks, but by honing his monk magic by fighting Seraph over and over, his training back in the Ashok Mountains had been fruitful, and he had reached the league of true beastman warriors.

The two of them faced each other with their swords raised. They locked eyes, feeling each other out, and then, without a single word needing to be said, they clashed. Valia’s blade came towards Noah like a volley of arrows, as if she was simultaneously attacking from a dozen different points and angles. Noah fended off her attacks, powering through the hindering weight he felt on his limbs, but just barely. Such rapid movement was a challenge, as it felt like he had cinderblocks hanging from his limbs, and an invisible bungee cord linked his blade to his chest, making every reach and swing an ordeal. On the other hand, Valia’s attacks were slower than usual, but clearly, she had regained most of her strength. It wouldn’t be long until she regained her original strength.