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Falco slammed his fists together. “Heavy Water!” Moisture was gathered from the air and formed two liquid spheres, immersing his hands. Noah had seen him use this technique in earlier matches. Despite being made of water, the two spheres were hard as rock, and their added weight made his punches stronger, but that wasn’t all. Along with strong offense, the orbs provided good defense, acting as both shields and catcher’s mitts for enemy attacks. It was a simple technique, but quite potent.

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.

Roc left the ring, eager to get his wounds treated, though putting on a brave face. As he entered the hypogeum below, Foley met him. “Nice work out there. Just don’t go thinking that your fancy kicks will knock me over like him.”