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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.

Slowly, and with no shortage of effort, he began to pry off his clone, separating centimeter by centimeter. Sitting on the floor, he resembled an animal shedding its skin. Eventually, he and his clone split like dividing cells, but the seal was trying to pull them back together. Moving his clone forward felt like trying to swim upriver, and it was taking everything he had not to be pushed back, let alone advance further. However, he felt himself closing in on something, a sensation, or perhaps it could be called a state of mind. Whatever it was, it seemed to help him project his mana. If he could make this state of awareness easier to access, then his magic would surely grow much more powerful.

Noah held up the crystalized feather. “I’ll be taking this as a down payment for tomorrow, with the expectation of another two relics of my choice at the end of the day.”“Three priceless artifacts just to fix a few fights?! That’s outrageous!”