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Seraph circled Phune, avoiding the mage’s attacks while replying with blasts of holy energy. They were small and weak bursts, as Seraph had little mana to spare, and were meant to distract more than harm, at least long enough for him to get in close and land a hit with his mace. That said, Phune wouldn’t have made it this far in the tournament if he could be defeated by such rudimentary tactics. He was quick on his feet, able to dodge with great skill and summon water barriers to block Seraph’s magic. Seraph was being kept at a distance, and getting in too close without a proper opening would be suicide.

“Oh honey!” She came and hugged me hard. “I’m not mad, I am good, really good. I loved everything we did.”“Everything?”

In their exchange, Seraph finally managed to wing Phune with a holy blast, leaving his arm numb, but with a frustrated snarl, Phune waved his other arm and hit Seraph in the leg with a sphere of water. Seraph collapsed, howling in pain as the water dissolved his clothes and flesh. He had felt this burning before, this corrosion of his skin. Noah had used acid against him during their fight, and right now, a tsunami of bad memories was washing over him. In his mind, he was back in the slums with Noah standing over him. Considering where the arena was built and where Noah was watching from, his delusion wasn’t far from reality. He couldn’t go through that pain again, that horror.