Kandy watched as the straw statues burned—an offering to the crow god. Swirls of wind carried the burnt straw particles across the gigantic coliseum.

The champion’s arena was effectively its own massive stadium situated within the center of the Crow’s Nest, with a giant statue of the Crow God, Karasu, staring down from a perch along the side.

The battle area was circular, with a diameter of over two hundred and fifty yards. Surrounding the battle area were stands that rose all the way from the ground level to the very top of the nest itself.

Kandy couldn’t even put it into words just how impressive it was that the entire building hadn’t collapsed yet with all of the weight it was holding.

“Mr. Tin would’ve loved studying the structure of this place…” Kandy muttered to himself. “If only I had a way to record my experiences here on Emberos.”

“Or perhaps.” Kandy grinned. “Perhaps I could come back here one day with Mr. Tin.”

He looked at his surroundings with newfound appreciation.

“I wonder if he’d be proud of me for becoming such a great fighter. Someone so many people would pay to watch.”

With a chuckle, Kandy stated the obvious. “I wonder if he’s even capable of feeling pride.”

After a large team of cleaners removed the burnt straw, ashes, and the platform, it was finally time for the fight to begin.

As Kandy assumed his battle stance opposite from The Storm, he’d never felt more alone.

Now, he wasn’t really alone, as even beyond the battleground, the stands were packed to the absolute brim with spectators. But for some reason, at that exact moment… it felt as if the world was empty around him.

“Fighters, are you ready?!” an announcer’s sonorous voice boomed over the crowd’s cacophony.

Kandy stared across the way—with where he and The Storpm were positioned, they were still almost a hundred and fifty yards apart.

An advantage for the archer, to be sure.

“Fight!”

As soon as the voice sounded, Kandy could see the archer dash backwards while firing his bow towards the sky.

Kandy contemplated standing still and using his spear to deflect the arrows, but as the arrows reached the peak of their flight and arced down towards him, he understood just how foolish an idea that had been.

“Holy shit!” he shouted as he dug his foot into dirt and ran forward to dodge the massive projectiles that began raining down all around him.

As the arrows began to fall in front of him, Kandy dodged to the side and began running along the edge of the battle area. Just a second or two after, though, he was forced to adjust his path again.

After a few dozen seconds of running about, he was still no closer to his enemy.

It was an understatement to say that Kandy wanted to pull out his bow and fire some arrows back at his opponent, but normal arrows would surely be useless against such an impressive foe, and mana arrows were certainly out of the question.

Those of Emberos used mana, to be sure. But they didn’t call it such—instead, it was the Crow God’s blessing.

Unlike his own mana, which after much training, now flowed smoothly with a beautiful bluish-green aura, the blessing of the Crow God was dark and violent.

Kandy had tried utilizing both his mana and the Crow God’s Mark at the same time, and he’d even experimented only using the Mark’s power, but all of his attempts had failed.

Whenever he only used the Mark’s strength, a terrifying urge for violence would overtake him.

He did not want to experience that again.

When used together, his mana and the power of the Crow God’s Mark seemed to fight each other, greatly decreasing each’s efficacy. Still, the combination had resulted in his mana’s aura becoming dark and violent—which meant that he could use it on Emberos without his true identity suspected.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

However, given how inefficient it was, he wouldn’t be able to use the combination much without overburdening himself. He would have to make what little he could use, count.

Which meant that arrows were not an option.

No matter what, he would have to close the distance on foot.

But how?

As the falling arrows forced him away from his path along the periphery of the battlefield, Kandy thought back to the many duels he’d witnessed in Boomtown. Hugh was the best at closing distance, but much of that was because of his dual shields that gave him the ability to withstand any attack that the others could throw at him.

Another enlarged arrow was falling towards Kandy—judging from the trajectory, it would land just in front of his feet.

As Kau would say, it was time to formulate a hypothesis: if he could block the arrows without losing all of his momentum, then he could reach the archer and win the duel.

Was that the proper structure of a hypothesis? Kandy wasn’t sure—he’d never understood Kau much, if he was to be honest.

Maybe he just wasn’t smart enough to understand him.

As the arrow hurtled towards him, Kandy swung his spear, knocking the massive arrow out of his way.

I can do it.

Kandy came to a stop and stared right at the next few arrows striving to skewer him.

Two will hit me if I don’t deflect them.

The two would hit at almost exactly the same time, which actually helped Kandy out. With a single, strong, blow, he knocked the two arrows to the side and rushed forward again.

I can do it!

He continued to sprint forward, now confidently batting aside the giant arrows. Eventually, instead of using brute force to smash away the arrows, he began guiding the arrows to the side instead.

“Hm.” The Storm paused his relentless firing and took a moment to appreciate Kandy’s movements. “He’s really not as bad as he looks. It seems I’ll have to step it up.”

With his efforts, Kandy had made it to the center of the arena. His gaze was still raised, searching for the next arrows to come.

Something at the bottom edge of his vision caused his instincts to scream at him, and without even thinking, he twisted his shoulders and leaned to the side.

Sure enough, an arrow whizzed past his head, so fast that he didn’t even register that it’d done so until it crashed into the arena’s wall far behind him.

He didn’t have time to wonder why his enemy had changed tactics, as several more arrows whizzed past, spread about so that he would have run into them if he’d evaded the previous arrow in a more dynamic manner.

He overestimated me. Kandy realized. The enemy had thought that he would have seen the arrow and dodged out of the way.

Strangely, a sense of shame brought a red tinge to Kandy’s cheeks—not that anyone could see it. He felt almost as if he were back at the bandit camp, sparring against his father’s minions.

Tripping over his own feet. Grabbing the wrong end of the dagger. Missing the entire side of his father’s hut with a quiver’s worth of arrows.

These memories flashed through his mind.

No.

Shut up.

Kandy gripped his spear tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping him afloat in a sea of chaos.

I’m not the same kid I used to be. I’m…

He glared across the battleground at his opponent and knocked aside the next three arrows that approached him in quick succession.

I’m a man!

With almost reckless abandon, Kandy charged forward—the Crow’s Mark on his left shoulder glowed and writhed, almost as if it were excited.

After leaping over a flurry of arrows, Kandy grounded his feet and launched his spear forward like a javelin, forcing The Storm to dodge out of the way.

The spear pierced the arena’s wall, burying itself several feet deep and sending spiderweb cracks out from the impact point.

Vulnerable without a weapon to defend himself with, Kandy stretched out his arm—the spear twitched, then flew out of the hole.

WIth how close Kandy was, The Storm ferociously grinned. For the first time during their duel, the renowned archer seemed to share a bit of the excitement that was surging through the crowd.

Even over the stadium’s cheering, Kandy could hear his opponent’s calm voice cut through, “You’ve done well, young Spear! But if you were to think that I was merely an archer, you’d be wrong.”

Kandy dug his heels into the dirt as a sense of immediate death overwhelmed him.

An elongated arrow, thrust forward by The Storm, had impossibly reached the twenty or so feet between the two.

“Tch. That’s an incredible instinct you have there. If only my reach were slightly longer,” The Storm said as his arrow retracted to its normal size.

Kandy’s mind raced to make sense of what had just happened.

Then it dawned on him. He, no, everyone had misunderstood The Storm’s innate talent, and he’d foolishly trusted his ears instead of his eyes.

The Storm’s talent wasn’t an ability to increase objects in size as they were farther away from him—it was that he could control the size of whatever he was in contact with.

For the arrows that were fired from his bow, perhaps it was that the effect could remain with an object for a short while after breaking contact.

Whatever the case was, it was just another reason for Kandy to close the distance.

Having effectively transformed his arrow into a fletched spear, The Storm’s thrusts forced Kandy to dance like a strung puppet, before eventually retreating. This time, though, The Storm rushed forward, keeping up the offensive.

Clearly, he was done with being an archer.

Shit! Kandy cursed. He’s too fast for me!

Indeed, all he could do in response was dodge and parry—and so he did, until he was being driven back towards his original position.

A radical plan came to Kandy’s mind as he performed a backflip to dodge another enlarged arrow thrust.

He continued to leap backwards, towards the wall of the arena. And then he leapt backwards out of the battlefield and into the tunnel he’d entered the arena from earlier.

At that point, The Storm stopped pursuing, confused. The entire stadium fell silent, unsure of what had just happened.

After a few seconds, Kandy’s voice floated out of the tunnel.

“I forfeit!”