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The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.

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This wasn’t simply water magic; it was water magic and alchemy combined. Normally, alchemy couldn’t be applied to living tissue, as the mana produced by organisms interfered with the magic, but this potent combination allowed Phune’s magic to overcome that restriction. Noah couldn’t help but wonder where Phune had acquired such magic. Since it was written in his grimoire rather than an intuitive ability, either he figured out the formula himself, or someone else did. Whoever it was, did they have any idea what kind of threshold they were on? The surface they had just scratched?