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“Speaking of Galvin, I am a bit concerned. I noticed your control over him wavered during the meeting with the nobles. His demeanor breaks every time the Wandering Spirit is mentioned.”

However, the tide of battle began to change. Despite Abner receiving all the damage, Reiss was the one getting tired. No matter how much blood Abner puked up, he kept getting to his feet and charging, while Reiss, after every blast, was breathing harder and harder with a noticeable tremor of fatigue running through his body. Noah decided it was time to end the fight. Once again, Abner, albeit slowly due to all his injuries, hobbled towards Reiss, shouting with resolve. Reiss, scrounging up what little strength he had left, hit Abner with a weak blast, knocking him back only a few feet and kicking up a cloud of dust. Once again, Abner started to get up.

Roc struggled against Ingram, but desperation made the man’s grip as solid as steel shackles. With all three limbs and one of his wings locked in Ingram’s grip, he could do nothing to fight back. He couldn’t even save himself when Ingram finally let go. Was this it? Was he going to lose? Was he going to die? If he just had his arm, he could win, but without it, this was the end. Plummeting towards the ground, he glanced at the useless remains of the appendage. If he at least had his elbow, he could have affixed a wooden hand or a blade, something to help even him out, but he was just left with a useless stump, like a clipped wing.“Damn you, Noah,” he hissed.