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He couldn’t maintain this state for long, and eventually snapped out of it, gasping for air as if he had lost a lung. He had to be careful with this training method, as there was no telling what health dangers it posed. He resumed meditating, slowly replenishing his mana reserves. Once they had reached a decent level, an idea occurred to him. He summoned his clone, feeling it overlap his presence with a copy, but now, he was unable to separate from it. The headband was trapping his mana within his body, making him feel wrapped in a thick layer of insulation.

Cyrilo flashed a wry smile. “All the low-rank fighters have been purged, so now the real show will begin. Besides, with this tournament going on, I barely get any customers during the day, so I might as well close up and go see what all the fuss is about.”“Man, this is so cool,” said Daniel. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome. All we need is a few lions and some Christians to feed to them.”

Once again, Seraph thought back to Foley, and how they faced off in their duel at the academy. The stubborn dwarf had withstood a similar attack from Seraph, deflecting Seraph’s light blast even while spitting up blood. Seraph kept that image in his mind and slowly began to approach Phune. Now, it was a war of attrition to see who would lose their strength first. Would Seraph falter and be annihilated, or would Phune’s burning river turn into a dripping faucet? With every step Seraph took, that question echoed through the minds of everyone observing. The audience sat with bated breath, waiting to see if their prince would succeed.