andy rodrigues

Reiss had been poisoned, likely by Viktor, but without solid proof of his involvement, there was reasonable doubt. Considering that the church and countless other spectators were betting on him, it could have easily been someone else. It seemed there was only one way for Noah to make the fight go how he wanted. He had hoped to avoid involving himself in the tournament like this, but considering how he screwed up Falco’s chances at revenge in the previous round, perhaps it was fitting he be the one to punish Viktor. He placed his hand on Reiss’s corpse and cast his cloning magic, taking on the dead man’s appearance. He then stuffed the body back into the closet, planning on dealing with it later.

His wings were aching and threatening to snap, but he forced himself to his feet and returned to the sky. He took after Ingram, once again attacking him from behind. The two of them crashed atop the edge of the arena, overlooking the crowds. It was little more than a cement lip encircling the arena, offering some protection from the sun and the weather. The two got to their feet, both bruised and exhausted, with the spectators cheering as they spotted the combatants overhead.

“I’m surrounded by the foolish and weak. At least you’re competent, Strauss. Helping you climb the ranks of advisors to back up my plans has been monumental. If only you could deal with Noah. Every time I even think about him, let alone hear his name, I struggle to contain my hatred, and perhaps it is traveling down the line of control. I can also sense Galvin’s terror widening the cracks in his psyche. Two decades of work and planning nearly ruined because of that vile snake. I was betting on Seraph to be one of the foundations of my war against the Profane, to plant him on the front line with Adwith Tarnas and have them rack up victories while Galvin received the people’s adoration, and now he’s just a shadow of his former self.