sitting on washing machine

Roc had the advantage of experience against this style, but his missing arm proved a debilitating handicap. In one regard, it made dodging easier, as he had less mass to move out of the way of Ingram’s attacks, and he couldn’t be slowed down with painful flesh wounds to the missing limb, but it also left his offense and defense on his right side almost nonexistent. Depending on who he was fighting and what type of combatant they were, the severity of such a handicap was variable, but against such a similar warrior, his disadvantage was increasingly evident with each passing second. Back and forth, over and over, they hurled attacks at each other and then pulled back, using their wings to move in and out of each other’s reach.

“I can’t speak on Lord Noah’s behalf or pretend to understand what he thinks or feels. I can only tell you what I believe: trust him. Trust his reasoning. Maybe it’s because you were close that he didn’t want to endanger you.”

Outside, Roc was engaged in the opening battle of the day, fighting against a talented warrior who could use both shield and sword magic. Again and again, he pounced on his foe, trying to smash through his defenses with powerful kicks and punches. However, even while his limbs were wrapped in mana, he could not break through the glowing tower shield the man wielded. With every attack that failed to break through, his enemy would counter with a slash, able to swing his sword with more speed and force than an average warrior could ever hope to achieve. Roc relied on his wings to pull him in and out of danger, but they were all that was keeping him alive, and he was left bloody from numerous close calls.