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He joined back with his clone, and as she reached out towards him for a slash across the throat, he drew his sword and blocked her attack. The ring of energized wind should have broken or at least chipped the blade, but Noah’s sword was enchanted to resist and repel magic attacks. The woman leaped back, hurling her rings at Noah, and he shattered them with two swings of his sword, then closed the distance in the blink of an eye and aimed for a stab to the chest.

It hit him dead-on, with the audience looking away, not wanting to see their prince reduced to a pile of melted bones, but though steam and smoke filled the air around Seraph, he was unharmed, albeit soaked. His aura had protected him, undoing the magic enhancement on the water, so when it hit him, it was chemically inert. The moment the blast ended, Seraph dropped his defenses, gasping for air from fatigue. What he would give to be even half as powerful as he was a year ago. He didn’t have time to rest, as Phune immediately commenced another attack. A continuous jet of water slammed against his raised palms and clashed with the light aura before him. Every loose drop hitting the ground smoked from the acidic burn, a reminder of what would happen if his strength or focus faltered for even a second.

“I need to stay in shape,” she replied, not turning around and continuing to punch and kick her swinging target. “Most of the customers know not to cause trouble now, and those that do, well, they do it for the attention.”