A cry of cheer and acclaim broke out in the Auditorium, although the fight ended much earlier than usual. Akki had to cover his ears to cope with the noise. "The surprise!" Roal shouted at Akki's side and pointed at the woman standing in the center of the stage. She had both of her fists raised beyond her head. Suddenly, she lowered her hands and grasped the collar of her doublet. Before Akki could figure out what she was trying to do, Brawner Walkaya ripped off the doublet. Her buxom breasts jumped out without any restriction, bouncing drops of sweat off them. Her nipples blushed more than normal after rubbing on the rough cloth. Her sagging bosoms dangled and capered as she turned several times to show the audience from all directions.

"Voluptuous!" The host yelled.

Akki faced away to the provoking scene. "What kind of surprise is this!?" he questioned Roal, hiding his flushing face.

"Don't be so shy. It's alright to take a peek. It's a part of the show!" Ranith tapped on Akki's shoulder while laughing. His guffaw blended into the deafening cry that filled the arena. Roal himself had long passed the age of caring about sex and girls. It was Akki's reaction that interested him the most. "When I was your age, I could flirt with six girls simultaneously," Roal unconsciously spoke out his mind. In spite he did not mean to say it, he did not mind Akki knowing it.

"I don't have any interest in girls," Akki replied while squeezing through the crowd to reach the exit.

Following right behind, Ranith asked, "There are more matches later. You don't want to have a look?"

"I'm not really interested in this. Fighting is just how I feed myself," Akki would not admit his true apathy for the arena if he were talking with anyone other than Roal. The ronin was rarely sincere to his family and hardly ever honest with anyone else in the royal court.

Exiting the brightly lit arena, the two returned to the night street. The old cowboy rubbed his eyes in the sudden darkness. The ronin took a deep breath as a cozy breeze went by. Stars were glowing silently in the sky. Some stalls were only half-closed since the canopies and counters were still on the street; they were waiting for the end of tonight's game when hungry people were gushing out of the arena. Before that, the street was as quiet as the two travelers.

Sauntering toward the inn, they had their steps slowed and emotions settled. Akki looked around the hushed tranquility of the city. Buildings were solid and firm. Shops and stores varied. Akki had visited almost every state in the kingdom, seeing similar views countless times. It was only in Surt that the two races lived together in such a frictionless way.

"Hey," Akki suddenly asked, "I remember you said you've been traveling for decades, right? Are states like Surt common?"

"What do you mean 'like Surt?'"

Akki could not tell what he meant, just like he could not tell why Surt specifically gave him this little itchiness in the chest. The itchiness was still there, getting accustomed. It was easier than taking it out.

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"I don't know," Akki looked up in the night sky. The luminous moon was hiding behind the cloud. Only tiny shafts of light seeped through.

Through the colored window, moonlight lay on the champion. She sat on her double bed, waiting for the time to come. She understood that she was no more than a circus pet. Still, she refused to be as clueless as one. The candle in the corner was new and unused. It had been like this for countless days since this darkness was where the fighter felt comfortable. Nonetheless, it was not the case tonight. Brawner grasped the blade of her dagger.

As her door burst after a kick, "Twirl," she whispered. An arrow was sent out. Brawner grabbed the arrow and threw the dagger at the armored man as she stood up from the bed. The blade bounced off the plate armor, leaving no trace. The armored man moved deeper into the room, giving space to the businessman and hired assassin behind him.

The sniggering, smug businessman was wearing a purple cotehardie and an exquisite robe on the outside. His short slops were stretched to their limit by his big belly. The assassin next to him was much more poised and collected. He wore a loose, green jerkin and a set of leather hosen with braies. The pure black mask on his face concealed his emotion and identity. The two winged spears in his hands were short but agile. The two pairs of wings next to the speartips were wide and jagged, making the spears much harder to dodge than normal ones. The assassin was an expert.

"What a strategy to have your most armored one holding a damn crossbow," Brawner juggled the arrow from her left hand to her right hand, not doubting if she could fight the two professionals at once.

"Say whatever you want 'cause you won't be able to talk shit like this soon after," the businessman smirked as the man in plate armor dropped the crossbow and drew out his long sword.

The peaceful tension was held for less than a second. The assassin took his move when Brawner again tossed the arrow into the air. He could not tell why his target was juggling in such a life-or-death situation. Was she too confident? Or was she just a paper tiger? Either way, the assassin knew he was better.

"Twirl!"

Leaping on the double bed, he dashed toward Brawner. It was at that moment he noticed the constant undulating movement of her hands when she was playing with the arrow. Behind the smiling eyeholes of his mask, the assassin had nothing but a sudden fear in his eyes. One of his spears was only a few decimeters away from Walkaya's chest. Unfortunately, that's the closest the head of his spears would ever be. The undulating stopped. Brawner pointed her hands toward the approaching man as about a dozen scarlet crescents appeared in front of her.

The man attempted to dodge aside and failed when the entire bed was under the effect of Brawner Walkaya's Slash volley. The crescent chopped the spears into three to four segments and severely injured the assassin. Although Slashes were unable to cut through bones, they still left several slits on his body:

The one that hit him in the knee had his entire leg incapacitated; furthermore, the leftover of that Slash also went straight through the flesh on his shin. Yet, it was not the worst hit. If it were not for the spine, the one that hit him in the torso would entirely separate his upper lower body from the stomach. Blood spurted out of his belly, and the air went in to touch his inner organs. The least severe injury was on his left arm. The long, narrow cut on his brachium was the result of his blocking the crescent from slicing his throat into two.

The intact arrow fell back to Brawner's hand as the fractured mask fell off the assassin's face into pieces. He slumped against the wall, possessing no more influence than a corpse.

"Go get her! Her hexes could not harm you," the businessman, hiding behind the armored man, pushed him in the back. The original plan was for the armored one to endure damage and the assassin to attack. Naive was understated in describing the plan.

Although scared by the brutal death and sheer power of Brawner's unusual Slashes, the man in plate armor still charged forward. Simultaneously, she stepped on the bed like the assassin, rounding the armored man. Unlike the assassin, she took them by surprise and got to the businessman.

She picked up a speartip on her way and gashed her target right in the face. The jagged wing plucked an eye and a nose off the businessman. As the armored man turned around, a sudden burst of blood and screech struck Brawner Walkaya in her softest part. All those neglected Memories and buried feelings overflowed her mind. Tears hung in her eyes.

A long sword penetrated her lung from behind. She was tugged out of her mind while being torn apart.