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After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.

Alexis sighed. “I’ve lost fights before, plenty of times, as you can imagine. But Bella, that was something else. I failed, Noah. I failed to protect the Knight’s Sheath, my comrades, the king. I was knocked aside by a monster that defies the laws of nature. No matter how much I train, how much I struggle, what good is it when someone like Bella, who never fought a day in her life, can suddenly become an unholy demigod and crush us like we’re insects? How is that fair? Part of me did want to take part in the tournament, to show everyone, including myself, how strong I am. But… I was afraid I would instead be reminded of how weak I am.”

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.