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He extended his control throughout his body, first adjusting his position in his chair, then, while pouring sweat, he lifted himself up and got to his feet. Just standing up straight and remaining upright was a challenge. Back when he first unlocked his clone ability, he remembered having to reacquaint himself with every muscle required for standing and balance, and those first few steps were like all the times he learned to walk as a baby. All that experience was invaluable. Soon enough, he was circling the room, tweaking the awkwardness out of his movements.

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.

“Now I really have a mess,” she said, handing me the box of tissues she kept on her desk. “That was pretty impressive.”