Chapter 69 - Missed Shots

As Skyle walked out of the building, a small crowd had gathered outside.

“Hey, you. Yes, you boy. Did you see anyone else inside?” asked a tall student, pointing his finger at Skyle.

Skyle ignored him and pushed his way through the crowd.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you runt,” the same student shouted, but then he spotted the sword hanging from the scabbard at Skyle’s back.

In fact, he wasn’t the only one who did. Numerous gasps rang across the crowd as they stared, speechless.

“It can’t be, right? Maybe he’s just delivering the sword to someone else,” a voice said feebly.

“That’s an arena duel sword, you idiot, not a practice one. Only those who sign a duel agreement at the Hall of Combat can take one out. In fact, I also recognize the bow, and it is from the same place.” another voice scoffed.

“You mean to tell me that little guy is going to fight a duel? He doesn't even have enough elemental essence to be a warrior, let alone a mage!” another voice asked, clearly disbelieving.

“Ah, I- I guess. How should I know?” the other person replied huffily.

The discussion carried on for a moment longer, but then stopped abruptly as Dalian finally stumbled out of the Hall of Combat.

The mage was carrying a buckler on his left hand, and a rapier on the right. That was not all. He wore a full length helmet on his head, complete with a crossguard covering his nose. He also wore a glittering shirt of chainmail that hung crookedly from his shoulders. A single greave of dark leather flapped around on his right leg, where it had been hastily and improperly secured. The other leg lay completely bare. A pair of gleaming sabatons of polished steel clanged with every step he took. His clothes looked ruffled and unkept. It was obvious he had tried different pieces of armor, but had been either unable or unwilling to take the time to properly put them on.

Ignoring the incredulous stares of the crowd outside, Dalian blurted out a question with frantic eyes.

“Did any of you see a small boy with a large sword on his back?”

Most combat students simply kept staring at the mismatched collection of hastily donned armor and weapons. One of them finally pointed in the direction Skyle had left in.

“He went that way. Hey, are you the one who signed for-” The helpful student began, but by then Dalian was not even listening anymore.

Letting out a hoarse cry, Dalian jumped into the crowd, where he began to desperately shove people out of his way in order to move forward.

“Get out of my way, dammit. Out, out I said. Let me through!” Dalian cried hysterically.

Shaking their heads, the warrior students decided right then and there that they were glad they had been lucky enough to enter the School of Combat.

The School of Magic was just full of lunatics.

It was only a mile or so further to the arena. Skyle walked at a comfortable pace as he studied the structure that rose up ahead.

Skyle had expected a grand palace matching the descriptions of the great gladiatorial arenas of the Imperial Capital he had read about in books. Instead, the Initiate arena was a simple circle of sand that stood at the bottom of a huge bowl-shaped dip in the ground.

Benches were layered all around the sides of the bowl. At the very center rose up a round stage with sand on its surface. It’s height guaranteed that not just the spectators that would sit on the benches, but almost everyone in the entire valley would be able to spectate any fights that happened within.

At this moment, the valley was no longer as peaceful as when Skyle had first arrived. This was due to the disturbance in the one feature of the arena that reminded Skyle of where he was.

A translucent sphere of energy covered the entire arena. It did nothing to impair the vision of anyone looking inside, but from what Skyle had read, it would contain any attacks or spells of the Master stage or lower within. Not only that, but when it judged that a duel participant was unfit to continue fighting, it would also instantly surround the fighter within a protective barrier, therefore halting the match.

The arena had not shown any signs of activity when Skyle had first arrived at the valley. This meant that the spell matrix had only activated after the duel had been signed. To his surprise, right at this moment large words floated upon the surface of the barrier.

Grievance duel: Dalian Westeria against Skyle Farrow

Conditions: Fight until surrender or last man standing.

Loser forfeits personal class badge into winner’s possession.

Status: Awaiting combatants.

A great roar went up from all around the valley, and other students quickly began to rush forward. No one was willing to miss out on this spectacle. Skyle imagined a duel with class badges as the stake would be rare indeed. Moreover, the name “Farrow” was undoubtedly one of the most famous ones in the whole academy.

Skyle would need to hurry, or he would risk Kassandra arriving before he crush his opponent.

It was surprisingly difficult to push his way past the rapidly gathering throng of onlookers. Things would have been different if they knew he was one of the participants in the duel, but as it was only the sword and bow strapped to his back gave any indication of that fact.

It was a curious sight. Gasps could be heard coming from his back as soon as he passed and people saw the weapons on his back, therefore guessing his identity. In front of him, countless people milled about as they tried to get closer to the arena so that they could spot the participants of the duel. Little did they know they were blocking the way of one of them.

“Halt! Skyle Farrow, stop right now!” A loud, shrieking voice rang out from behind.

Skyle had made it almost to the steps that led up into the arena itself, but he turned around when he heard his name.

Dalian was panting harshly as he half-pushed, half-leaned on the people around him for support as he wobbled his way forward. For some mind-boggling reason, Dalian was walking barefoot, having somehow lost his boots along the way. His shoulder-length blonde hair stuck in matted clumps to his pale, sweat-soaked face. His clothes lay completely disheveled, as if he had tried to tear them off his body for some inexplicable reason. From his limp hands hung a rapier and a buckler, though they almost dragged on the ground and he didn’t look as though he would be able to hang on to them for much longer.

“Skyle.. Farrow.. Wait. I must.. Something.. Tell you.” Dalian’s face was one of abject misery as he tottered his way forward.

Skyle waited patiently, finally understanding what had happened. The poor fool must have been happily trying on equipment when he abruptly realized that he stood no chance against Skyle once he let him enter the deadly reach of his sword.

Since anything was fair game once a fighter set foot upon the arena, Dalian certainly wouldn’t put it beyond the despicable rat to wait for him right beside the barrier, sword at the ready.

Dalian could hardly prepare a spell before hand, as the barrier that served to isolate any attacks from within did the same with any magic from without.

Skyle could only imagine the panic of the mage when he had finally realized this, and could now understand the pathetic state Dalian was in. The young boy waited patiently, however. He didn’t need to, but he still did.

His purpose here was two-fold, after all. First was to deliver himself from the threat Dalian and his friends meant - forever. Skyle would not leave any loose ends, not anymore.

That was simply inefficient.

Second, Skyle meant to deal with as ruthless and brutal a fashion as he could with this first victim of his. He had quickly come to realize that his former peaceable ways had been anything but. Already, he was the object of scorn and hatred by all the elements which were too cowardly or weak to strike at Kassandra or Reikard.

This problem, which Skyle had naively ignored, would not go away by itself and was certain to get worse. As they realized that the elder Farrow brother was weak and spineless, they would fall upon him like vultures to the feast.

Today, Skyle meant to put any such notions to rest for good. As for any consequences from his actions, he already had contingencies in mind to deal with them.

Thus, completely expressionless, Skyle waited as Dalian finally arrived before him.

“You.. cheap.. Bastard.. Think I don’t.. Know.. what you’re.. Trying..” Dalian wheezed, reaching out to try and grab hold of Skyle’s neck.

Skyle easily blocked his hand with his own. Although he was much smaller, Skyle had come to realize that most of Dalian’s bulk was just that, useless bulk. Skyle doubted the young noble had either the discipline or inclination to hone his body and train his physical strength.

Skyle’s hands dug deeply into the fat of Dalian’s arms, pulling him forward while his foot kicked out and tripped the bigger boy.

Dalian let out a hoarse cry as he stumbled forward, desperately trying to hang on to anything to stop his fall. Skyle swayed aside and added a well-placed kick to the mage’s ass cheeks as he tumbled past him.

It was thus that Dalian made his entrance into the arena, shrieking loudly until he swallowed a mouthful of sand.

He recovered with startling speed, and Skyle realized the mage was smarter than he had given him credit for.

Dalian instantly sprang to his feet as if all his exhaustion was gone. He ran away from Skyle, keeping an eye over his shoulder as he watched his opponent.

The crowds of onlookers laughed derisively at this. The much larger boy was busy scampering away, looking like he was running for his life. The contrast with the other fighter of this duel could not have been greater.

Skyle leaned against the siderail, his hands brushing dust from his clothes as he calmly waited for Dalian to reach his desired spot. Meanwhile, he rolled his head from side to side, then unslung the giant, unwieldy sword from his shoulders. When he dropped the sword to he floor with a loud clatter of metal, another roar went up in the crowd.

Why was the little boy throwing away his best weapon? Had he decided to surrender? Only the bow remained, but everyone knew bows were weapons that required years of arduous training to use properly. Already, Dalian had opened a distance of over one hundred feet. Striking a moving target at such a distance before he could be struck by a spell seemed nearly impossible for such a small boy.

Skyle sighed as he finally freed himself from the burden of the sword. After all, he had never been fond of the clumsy chunks of metal, and he wasn’t about to start now. He was too unfamiliar with the weapon for use in practical combat. Already, that one sword exercise earlier had drained too much of his limited strength and stamina. Perhaps after he familiarized himself more with swords in actual combat situations, he would change his mind.

Besides, the sword was so large and unwieldy, that it did not suit his current purpose even if he could use it to secure a victory. To Skyle, winning was a foregone conclusion. It was simply a matter of arranging the aftermath that remained.

Dalian finally stopped running and turned around to face Skyle at around one hundred and fifty feet. Skyle quirked an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. That was nearly the same range as Leon’s firebolts. If Dalian truly could cast a spell at this distance, Skyle had definitely underestimated his opponent.

Dalian busily began casting a spell, weaving his hands in complex gestures while moving his lips in arcane incantations.

Skyle finally stepped through the barrier at this point. The instant he crossed over to the other side, the whole barrier flashed with an intense light, and the letters upon the barrier changed.

Grievance duel: Dalian Westeria (10) against Skyle Farrow (1)

Conditions: Fight until surrender or last man standing.

Loser forfeits personal class badge into winner’s possession.

Status: Fighting - Winner to be determined.

Skyle ignored everything else as he unslung his bow. In one smooth motion, he nocked his first arrow and let fly with hardly a pause. Almost as soon as that first arrow was away, he knew he had misjudged the bow’s draw and he would miss his target. This only increased his focus as he instantly nocked a second arrow and let loose once again.

What followed was an appalling barrage of arrows. The crowd could hardly believe their eyes at the sheer speed at which each arrow was nocked on the bow and fired away. Surely, no one could hit a target at such reckless speeds?

Dalian was still intent upon his first spell, finishing the final hand gestures which would complete the spell. Skyle knew that with his level of skill, he would be lucky if he could cast a spell within ten seconds. That held true for most Initiates. Even Leon needed a couple seconds to cast a firebolt, even though he was a summoner Adept of incredible skill.

Dalian was so focused on his spell that he hardly noticed when Skyle finally entered the arena. Barely three seconds had passed after that when the first arrow had taken flight. A few people in the crowd tried to shout out a warning, but it was simply of no use.

As Skyle had guessed, the first arrow was woefully off target. Instead of striking Dalian’s hand and shattering every bone there as intended, the arrow simply struck a glancing blow against two of his fingers that nearly tore them off his hand.

No matter, Skyle mused. The spell had been interrupted, and his next arrow would strike true.

Dalian stared at the mangled fingers of his left hand for a moment, his brain unable to understand what had just happened. The spell he had been casting fizzled away as the elemental essence he had been gathering floated away along with the howl of agony that finally burst forth. Pain unlike any Dalian had previously known lit his right entire hand on fire and the scream that tore past his throat only grew louder.

Dalian clutched at his fingers with his left hand, or at least he tried to. Right before he could grab his injured right hand, a blur streaked in from outside the corner of his eyes, and a new flare of agony exploded in his brain.

Sudden tears blurred his vision as he stared at the gruesomely twisted fingers of his left hand. They had been smashed into a purple pulp by a vicious blow, and Dalian’s mind simply couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

The crowd grew completely silent as a third arrow struck home. This one was delivered with pinpoint accuracy, just like the second one had. Only the archer himself knew how dissatisfied he was by all three previous shots.

Skyle couldn’t help but remember Moonshadow, and the smooth draw of her bowstring. This would not have happened if he still had the legendary masterwork weapon. Then again, he mused, a blunt arrow powered by Moonshadow would have likely torn that hand clean off. So, right now a few missed shots were a better alternative.

His first arrow had missed almost completely, barely striking a glancing blow to two fingers. Then his next arrow, which had been intended to strike that same right hand and finish the job, had been blocked by Dalian’s left hand.

This third arrow had been aimed at Dalian’s right hand once again, but missed for the third consecutive time. This time it struck Dalian on the shoulder instead, because the crying youth bent over to howl in renewed agony as he stared at both of his ruined hands.

This third arrow struck another glancing blow, but the impact at this range was enough that it cracked bone with a wrenching sound that pierced through Dalian’s brain even in the midst of his howling chaos.

By now the whole crowd was watching in horrified fascination as the vicious little boy continued to fire arrow after arrow. Not one missed its target, striking the slobbering, pain-maddened giant on his feet, legs, then shoulders. Even when he finally collapsed to the ground, the arrows did not stop. Amazingly, not a single arrow was a killshot, as though fate were playing a cruel game with the unfortunate youth. Every time, the arrows avoided vital spots and instead targeted his limbs.

Not a single drop of blood sprayed forth except for the self-inflicted gash on Dalian’s tongue when he bit it in the midst of his endless howls of pain.

The writing upon the barrier had quickly been changing this whole time.

Grievance duel: Dalian Westeria (1) against Skyle Farrow (20)

Conditions: Fight until surrender or last man standing.

Loser forfeits personal class badge into winner’s possession.

Status: Fighting - Winner to be determined.

The blinking last line seemed to be making a mockery of this whole incident. Though combat students were used to brutal fights upon the arena, this kind of merciless torture inflicted upon a helpless victim was simply too much for some to take. A few girls could be heard crying in the background, while others retched and began to throw up. Most couldn't understand why the fight wasn't being stopped.

Already, Dalian was trying to shout out his surrender. However, every time he tried to do so another arrow would arrive and flood his brain with more pain, leaving him a gasping, howling mess.

Skyle didn’t seem to notice, as he kept firing arrow after arrow, knowing his time would be up at any time now. Blood had not been spilled, and no injury had been inflicted to any vital spots. Still, eventually the spell matrix would realize the fight was over.

Only after a relentless barrage of fifteen arrows had been fired, did a shimmering orb of solid light suddenly spring into life around Dalian’s quivering body. Just an instant earlier, the screams of terror that had scraped the youth's throat raw had abruptly been cut off.

Mercifully, he had finally passed out.

At this point, the writing upon the barrier flashed once again.

Grievance duel: Dalian Westeria (1) against Skyle Farrow (22)

Conditions: Fight until surrender or last man standing.

Loser forfeits personal class badge into winner’s possession.

Status: Winner - Skyle Farrow.

It didn’t stop Skyle from firing his arrows, however. Instead, all color fled from the faces of the audience watching the fight as arrow after arrow kept striking the barrier. They all bounced harmlessly off, but the vicious boy was like an avenging devil who didn’t stop until every single arrow had been launched and his hand reached over his shoulder to grasp into an empty quiver.

Only then did Skyle drop the bloodstained bow at his feet. He unslung the quiver and added it to the pile as well.

He stood upon the golden sand for one long moment, his eyes scanning the crowd as though he were a fierce predator hungry for more blood. His hands were bleeding where the bowstring had bitten deeply into his own flesh.

Skyle did not seem to notice.

A brief glow floated from within the barrier that surrounded Dalian. It was a sparkling object which floated to Skyle. It hovered before him for a moment, and Skyle reached out and took it.

It was Dalian's class badge. It was his prize.

Then Skyle turned around and exited the arena without a word.

The crowd silently parted ahead of him.

Skyle walked away without a single look behind at the mangled pile of flesh he had left behind in the middle of that arena.

“It wasn’t perfect,” he reflected. “But it will do.”