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“Considering what a raw deal Falco got, I think it’s only fair that I give you what you deserve. But don’t worry, I’ll save the pleasure of killing you for him. I’ll just make you wish I’d kill you.”

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.

Everything seemed fine, but only for a moment. Valia felt something seize her mind, like a hand around her throat, forcing her to look at something she didn’t want to see. The stars she normally saw through her subconscious, those flickering lights, were brushed aside, and beyond them, new stars could be seen. However, they didn’t produce light, so much as bend the light around them, staining it with malevolent haze.