The cruel struggle of a flower is never knowing if it will bloom in the end. Sometimes the effort is the reward.

~Blodeuwedd, Goddess of Flowers and Wisdom

A few weeks went by, and Crow didn’t bother to count the number of duels he’d taken part in. Seven. He hated that the number just popped into his head, even after trying to forget them all. It was a blur of taunts and ridicule, followed by a lot of pain. Crow taunted and ridiculed and accepted the subsequent pain that followed from pissing off people who could use their Source.

The crowd settled on calling him Golden Mouth. It tormented his opponents to no end, and crowds gathered just to hear what Crow would say next.

Each fight had one of two outcomes. Either the opponents knocked him out right away, or Crow taunted them mercilessly until they finally beat him senseless and fled in embarrassment. More and more, his opponents realized that allowing Crow to talk was a bad idea. They weren’t even taunting him anymore, just rushing in and ending the duel as fast as they could.

Crow’s battle experience had jumped significantly, and the various arenas offered him different environments and terrains. He acclimated quickly to every situation, but he only used Ghost Steps and Qi during his fights. No matter what, he would lose, so he felt it was pointless to expose all his secrets. Instead, he angled for the best possible outcome.

“State your name and clan loud enough for the crowd to hear.”

“Crow, son of Maddox.”

“Bael, son of Belgae.” The Belgae boy was bigger than his usual opponents. Crow didn’t care about size because none of them were as large as Otto. However, his fists itched when he saw a pretty face like the one on Bael. “No other words for me?”

“Boo!” Crow suddenly shouted and pretended to lunge. Bael stumbled back, and Crow chuckled. “That’s what ghosts say, right? Ask your cousin. I’m sure he’ll give you pointers.”

“Fool!” Bael hissed.

Crow shrugged as the formations activated. He’d fought enough that he could sense the pressure in the air when the formations finished powering up. The second he felt it, his body tensed. Trees, rivers, rain, and a massive lake solidified. This was the third time he’d fought in the Water Arena. Between the shrubbery underfoot and the constant rain, it was one of the worst battlegrounds. The only upside was that it had a suppressive benefit toward Soul Burn.

Squish. Squish. Squish.

Bael’s feet were big and wide, so they were easy to anticipate. Crow’s timing would have been perfect if he hadn’t slipped at the critical moment. Even so, Bael’s fist came in wide like a haymaker, and while it may have had power, it was sloppy. The inexperience was enough for Crow to use the slide to create a gap between them. He didn’t even have to turn around to know where Bael was and the direction he was approaching. The squishing footsteps gave him away.

Activating his Ghost Steps, he sent enough Qi into his legs to turn sharply without sliding. The moment he did, he shot left, and Bael’s fist went past without touching him. Crow had to admit, for a big guy, Bael had some speed. It pressured Crow enough that he started scanning for ways to create opportunities.

Using his momentum, he planted a foot against a nearby boulder and reversed his direction. The pivot and acceleration were strong enough that he could feel the stone crack under his foot. This time he didn’t hold back on the Qi and forced it to rotate through his body twice as fast as before.

Bael’s panicked look as his pretty face froze in horror caused a sinister grin to appear on Crow’s face. His fist came in like a haymaker should—almost no bend to the elbow and whipped the arm sideways from the shoulder. They are usually not worth using in a fight unless his opponent is knocked down or backed into a defensive position. However, they were excellent for catching an unprepared opponent off guard.

The fist struck the pretty boy’s face, and his head was turned just enough that he took most of the blow to his nose. Blood sprayed out, and Bael took a step back. Crow’s opponent was using his Source, so while Crow got first blood, it was superficial. In fact, he probably hurt his fist more than his opponent’s nose.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Either way, a strike to the nose stung and watered the eyes. Bael did not look like an agreeable person, so Crow fully expected to pay for his itchy fist.

Rather than lament the pain he was about to suffer, he felt it was time to pile on the humiliation. Once his foot touched the ground, he powered the steps once more and jumped into Bael with his knee raised. Bael’s eyes were watering, so he didn’t see the knee smashing into his guy until he was stumbling backward and sucking in air. His feet twisted on each other, and he went down the embankment into the small stream below.

“Damned luck…” Crow muttered, the unexpected gap between them completely ruined his momentum. Not that he had any hope of bringing the older kid down. Still, it was nice getting his petty victories.

“I’m g-going to turn you into a pile of dog shit.”

“What!?” Crow shouted. He was positive no one heard what Bael had hissed. To everyone’s surprise, Crow turned and ran. Only a few people, namely the elder supervising the fight, saw the evil grin spreading across his face.

“You dirty man! This beautiful butterfly is pure and innocent. How dare you spew such profanities?” Crow squealed like a coquettish woman. “I’ll have you know, I have two girlfriends!”

“W-w-what? What nonsense are you talking about?” Bael said, climbing up out of the ditch and chasing after Crow.

“First, your cousin betrays the Druid Order by colluding with outsiders, and now you dare speak of doing unmentionable things to-to-to my backside. You monster!” Crow called out, allowing his voice to raise a few octaves. “Such a vulgar clan!”

Crow kept running through the trees and leaping over small puddles that might as well be ponds. He’d noticed that his physical speed was much higher than Bael’s, provided the evil jerk didn’t power his legs with mana.

“Stop! What nonsense are you saying? You can’t just slander people with baseless claims.” Bael tried to take the road of righteousness. “On my honor—”

“Pfft, what honor, you fool?” Crow called out. “I’m a cripple, remember? You beat stray dogs too, right?”

“Stop saying so much damned rubbish and fight me,” Bael growled, truly angry now.

“Fine! You want to put your hands on this beautiful butterfly. This daddy can’t stop you. Be gentle…”

At this point, the crowd did not know whether to laugh, cry, or mourn Bael’s ordeal. However, they all came to be entertained. Through it all, a peal of feminine laughter rang out.

“This mommy approves of this way of fighting!”

This time the crowd laughed, and Bael’s head was about to explode.

“Damn elders. Damn Lonny. And damn you, Crow!” Three curses stacked like that caused many people to inhale sharply. Superstition long held the belief that if done in threes, curses had power. Not that Crow cared because he was almost a master when it came to curses. In truth, he couldn’t be bothered to care about the piddly whining of a talentless clansman.

Fire erupted around Bael. His feet moved in a chaotic pattern that made it look like they were moving slowly, but the reality differed from expectation. Flames danced around his boots, and where they touched the ground, there was a sizzling sound of fire meeting water. Crow shuddered to think how fast Bael might have moved if Gavin hadn’t chosen the Water Arena.

Crow was already wincing as Bael’s palm descended toward him.

“Now comes the pain,” he muttered while turning his body, trying to force the hand to land anywhere but on his head.

Slap!

Miraculously, the palm missed his face and landed on his butt. He joked about Bael assaulting his backside, and now the man really touched his rear end. Crow was stunned by the turn of events and now feared screaming out self-fulfilling prophecies.

“Ahhh, pervert!” Crow finally screamed out. “See? You ruined this daddy’s purity, you liar!”

Crow rubbed his butt, which stung so severely he just spewed out whatever nonsense came to mind. The pain was horrifying, and crow could feel the welt of each individual finger on the flesh of his rear. A panicking part of his brain tried to reassert his combat calm because he feared a follow-up strike. The expected ferocity never appeared.

Instead, after scrambling around and climbing to his feet, he was relatively unharmed. Once the sting went away, he knew, at worse, he just had a massive bruise. The crowd roared with laughter, and Bael stood there stunned, as if not sure what to do with his raised hand. So he stared at his palm like a gawping fish.

Not willing to miss an opportunity, Crow leaped toward him with a Qi-infused kick. Bael’s speed had already thoroughly shocked Crow. If he wanted to prolong this fight—

Thunk!

Bael’s fish smashed into Crow’s hard head. The Belgae boy was so angry that he almost forgot to hold back some of his power. Crow’s unconscious body bounced across the ground and then skid and bounced across the surface of the lake. A dozen rotations later, Crow stopped and sank below the water. Just like that, the fight was over, but Bael’s honor was even more tainted than when he entered this fight. He stomped off the stage even faster than he attacked Crow and disappeared before anyone could talk to him.

The moderator jumped into the water and pull Crow out before handing him over to Otto. The elder looked at the boy with both a smile on his face and fear in his eyes. The kid was crazy, unpredictable, and made winning a losing ordeal. Who in their right mind would want to fight someone like that?

Otto was laughing as he carried his brother to Luthais. Even with his simple thoughts, he knew Crow barely sustained any injury in that fight. The knock to the head would probably leave him with a headache and some bruising, but he didn’t have any broken bones. It was the best possible outcome.