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She formed two more rings and used them to parry his thrust, then tried again to slash his throat. Noah conjured an illusory handgun and shot her in the arm, leaving it numb and breaking the spell. Shocked and worried by the sensation in her afflicted arm, the assailant launched a blast of explosive wind with her other hand, launching herself up and away like Bower with his fire magic. She flipped through the air, landed gracefully fifty feet away, and then hurled another ring at Noah. He shot it out of the air, shattering it like a clay pigeon, along with each subsequent ring after.

The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.

“And contestant Roc is the winner!” the referee announced, drawing a chorus of cheers and jeers from the audience. Many admired the tenacity of this one-armed beastman, and plenty of others felt threatened.