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Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

Now fully powered up, he flew up high above the city where no one could see him, then turned and rocketed straight down, using his wings to augment the speed of his descent. As with his fight against the wolf fiend during the Red Revelry, he adjusted his trajectory at the last moment, curving his descent. His enemy raised his shield, putting everything he had into his defense, but Roc’s power was too great. He kicked the man’s shield with all the magical and kinetic force he could muster, striking like a meteorite. His enemy resisted valiantly, but his footing gave way, and Roc smashed him into the ground, carving a trench through the earth before slamming him against the wall of the arena. Brick and mortar cracked like so many bones, and the man went limp with blood dripping from his mouth.

“I’m glad. I was starting to get worried. It seemed like your recovery was taking longer than it should have.”