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In their exchange, Seraph finally managed to wing Phune with a holy blast, leaving his arm numb, but with a frustrated snarl, Phune waved his other arm and hit Seraph in the leg with a sphere of water. Seraph collapsed, howling in pain as the water dissolved his clothes and flesh. He had felt this burning before, this corrosion of his skin. Noah had used acid against him during their fight, and right now, a tsunami of bad memories was washing over him. In his mind, he was back in the slums with Noah standing over him. Considering where the arena was built and where Noah was watching from, his delusion wasn’t far from reality. He couldn’t go through that pain again, that horror.

“Well, it can be pretty scary at times. When we were in Welindar, he would experiment on members of the Pack, injecting them with various drugs to study their reaction, or slicing them open to see how they worked inside. Early on, I was actually frightened of him, this man who could do the most terrifying things so easily. However, I soon took notice of his skill.

“I can see your treasury. By now, all of the loot from the church raids must be long spent, most likely on the arena, with any remaining money going to repairing damages from the Wassengel battle and the loss of Welindar’s revenue. That pile of gold is going to keep getting smaller and smaller. Either Galvin is going to bankrupt the country, he’ll raise taxes, or he has a new resource to exploit. So which is it?”