pocharimochi

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!”

A solid kick to Viktor’s balls brought him to the ground, but Noah wouldn’t let him go that easily. Several hard stomps pulverized the man’s legs, and then he seized his broken right arm and continued snapping the bones, along with his fingers. One might think the audience, having cheered through gruesome violence for fight after fight, would be overjoyed by this display of brutality, but it was the opposite. They were dead silent, feeling their earlier excitement wither with every pained howl, and when Noah twisted Viktor’s left arm until his broken bones tore through his flesh, many turned away, unable to watch anymore.

He conjured a gas mask and metal canister from his ring, alchemically-formed, as was the carbon monoxide within. Any time the two brothers separated, Noah would creep up beside Falco and spray him with the gas. Odorless and colorless, Falco was completely unaware, mistaking the air on his face for the wind, with Noah using his mana to conceal the sound of the gas being released. It wouldn’t leave lasting damage, nor was it a threat to the crowds, but the more Falco breathed it in, the weaker he became.