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Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.

Berholm exhaled. “Part of it is raising taxes on the various nobles, depending on their contributions and loyalty.”“Meaning they can either suck up to him or be bled of wealth.”

Noah rocketed towards her, and for one brief fraction of a second, he saw the shock in Valia’s eyes from his boosted speed. He, too, was surprised, feeling like he was wearing his anti-paladin cloak. It was natural to feel lighter and faster after removing weights, but removing the headband was a new definition of liberating. Valia intercepted his attack, but only just, and Noah rained slashes and stabs upon her, putting her solely on defense. She was forced back, unable to maintain her position with such a ferocious chain of attacks hammering her defenses. Finally, Noah slipped past her guard and held the tip of his sword up to her throat.