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Roc struggled against Ingram, but desperation made the man’s grip as solid as steel shackles. With all three limbs and one of his wings locked in Ingram’s grip, he could do nothing to fight back. He couldn’t even save himself when Ingram finally let go. Was this it? Was he going to lose? Was he going to die? If he just had his arm, he could win, but without it, this was the end. Plummeting towards the ground, he glanced at the useless remains of the appendage. If he at least had his elbow, he could have affixed a wooden hand or a blade, something to help even him out, but he was just left with a useless stump, like a clipped wing.“Damn you, Noah,” he hissed.

“I can’t speak on Lord Noah’s behalf or pretend to understand what he thinks or feels. I can only tell you what I believe: trust him. Trust his reasoning. Maybe it’s because you were close that he didn’t want to endanger you.”

“I’m just a lowly mercenary. That’s all they see me as. They hire me to do their spying, to fulfill the tasks they can’t, but they don’t have to respect me as long as they throw money at me. No matter what I do or how many times I risk my life, I’m an expendable asset. They’d never let someone like me into the knighthood on my own merits, not a filthy beastman, but I’m going to change that. Once I win this tournament and become a silver-rank knight, I’ll command authority and respect. They’ll have to acknowledge me and all beastmen.”“How noble,” Roc scoffed.