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Watching him work, the expertise at his fingertips, it was like watching a masterful performance. Even the act of dissection was artful. He was so knowledgeable, so capable, and he would explain how he used these techniques in the past to help people. My fear quickly turned to admiration, and I realized that Lord Noah could not be judged by such terms as good or evil. He is neither black nor white, but gray at both its darkest and brightest, a gray as deep as the ocean.

Back outside, the fifth fight garnered some attention. It was between another church agent and the only other beastman in the tournament, now that Roc had defeated Ingram. Cain, he was rhino-based, and at first glance, Noah thought he was a fiend, but only because of his outrageous stature. In his semi-transformed state, the man was over seven feet tall with limbs like tree trunks and devastating strength, and the long horn growing from the bridge of his nose had gouged multiple opponents. As a beastman, he was almost on par with Kaisen, a natural-born juggernaut with physical and magical talent. The problem was his attitude, having killed all his opponents with great pleasure.

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.