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He then tossed Viktor aside and left both the ring, and a fearful and disillusioned audience. Looking into the stands, he spotted Falco and gave him a thumbs up. Hopefully, this made up for sabotaging him in his fight. Many knights were also in the stands, all having sudden flashbacks to the last Knight’s Day. Watching Reiss tear Viktor apart reminded them of when the Wandering Spirit pummeled Seraph until he tried to kill himself. The brutality was precisely the same, imparting the unforgettable chill upon their spines.

As carefully as she could, she untangled herself from his legs and slipped out of his bed and made for the door. As she walked back to her room her mind was doing somersaults.What was she thinking?Why did it smell so good?What if he woke up?How would I even explain myself?Did I taste it?I need to smell it again.Why can’t I get the taste out of my mind?

Seraph circled Phune, avoiding the mage’s attacks while replying with blasts of holy energy. They were small and weak bursts, as Seraph had little mana to spare, and were meant to distract more than harm, at least long enough for him to get in close and land a hit with his mace. That said, Phune wouldn’t have made it this far in the tournament if he could be defeated by such rudimentary tactics. He was quick on his feet, able to dodge with great skill and summon water barriers to block Seraph’s magic. Seraph was being kept at a distance, and getting in too close without a proper opening would be suicide.