I’m Here to End This Fight

Chapter 195: The Great Battle of the Dragons (4)

The west side of the circular arena.

From one of the waiting rooms reserved for the third-year participants, a cold, eerie sound resonated.

Ssskk- Ssskk- Ssskk-.

In the center of the waiting room knelt a short, red-haired boy named Michel Ang.

Ssskk- Ssskk-.

The unsettling noise that filled the room was none other than the sound of Michel honing the blade of his axe on a whetstone.

Ssskk- Ssskk-.

Michel’s upper body swayed back and forth, his movements mechanically repetitive.

With a solemn demeanor, he sharpened the blade, almost resembling a religious ritual.

Beside Michel lay another axe, already perfectly honed to a razor edge.

Sssk-.

Moments later, Michel’s movements came to an abrupt halt.

“…….”

He raised the axe vertically and inspected the sharp blade with his piercing eyes.

Satisfied with the blade’s sharpness, Michel stood up and casually threw off his shirt.

What was revealed was a body of rugged, bulging muscles.

Michel didn’t stop there. He dipped his index and middle fingers into a prepared bowl.

Thick, dark red liquid clung to his stout fingers.

Plop-.

It was none other than the blood of a beast.

Michel, unfazed, brought his blood-soaked fingers to his upper body.

Swipe- Swipe-.

Using his muscular torso as a canvas, he began to paint cryptic, geometric symbols.

At the same time, Michel’s atmosphere started to change gradually.

It was a stark contrast to the usual calm aura of “Gunther Ryder’s Butler.”

As he continued to paint his upper body with these bloody shapes, Michel recalled Yuri Holland’s words.

[“Stop overstepping, and stay out of the way, lackey.”]

He knew it well.

People might call him “butler” to his face, but behind his back, they referred to him disparagingly as a parasite or a slave.

He was aware of it all, yet he thought it didn’t matter.

Because what they said was true.

However, recalling the day Yuri Holland had brazenly said those words to his face stirred an inexplicable anger within Michel.

It wasn’t just because the one who had said it was not a senior or a peer, but a younger underclassman.

Nor was it because he was knocked out with a single blow without even having the chance to counter after hearing such insulting words.

It was simply… because the person who said those words was Yuri Holland.

‘That guy… didn’t he have no family or faction behind him?’

According to what he had learned, Yuri Holland was a drifter.

The specifics of how or through whose recommendation he had entered the Cradle were unknown, but it was clear he was accepted based on an individual’s recommendation, not by a family.

And because of that, Michel felt a petty rage.

‘To get me into the Cradle, my tribe endured immense sacrifices, and for the sake of the tribe, I’ve led this kind of life… and yet that guy, who knows nothing of it…!’

Those born into good families.

Those with strong backgrounds didn’t bother him when they insulted him.

After all, they had different things and could enjoy different privileges.

They lived in a world separate from his.

So he could ignore them, he didn’t have to care.

But Yuri Holland was different.

In some ways, he was similar to Michel.

A person who survived in the Cradle without the backing of a family.

But what set Yuri apart from Michel was… Yuri Holland had a dazzling talent that Michel didn’t possess.

For someone with such talent to dismiss his sacrifices and efforts as a “lackey.”

‘…You should never have insulted me like that!’

Swipe- Swipe-.

The movement of his fingers, fueled by anger, continued until Michel’s upper body was densely covered in blood-red symbols.

And at that moment, the order from the Black Sword Corps was given.

“Michel Ang, enter.”

Upon hearing this, Michel plunged one hand into the pottery bowl.

Drip- Drip- Drip-.

Watching the blood drip from his fingers, Michel made a vow.

‘After securing victory and moving up…’

His blood-stained hand swept over his face from top to bottom.

‘I will make sure you, Yuri Holland, clearly understand what my struggle was all about!’

A murderous intent flickered in his gleaming eyes.

His body, marked with blood like tattoos, no longer appeared as Gunther’s butler.

Michel had reemerged as the fierce tribal warrior known as the “Child of Blood.”

Thud-.

He grabbed his twin axes and trudged toward the arena.

‘Wasn’t my opponent this time Arin Helga?’

She was one of those who hung around with Yuri Holland.

Not that it mattered much.

Whoever it was, they were just another obstacle he had to overcome.

Michel was determined to give his all.

‘Her main weapon is a bow… if I can close the distance, victory is mine.’

Furthermore, the battlefield was a confined space, disadvantageous for an archer.

He could either close the gap quickly or focus on defense until she ran out of arrows.

There were various strategies for dealing with an archer.

As he contemplated how to confront Arin, Michel passed through the entrance.

‘Where is she?’

As soon as he set foot in the arena, Michel quickly scanned the surroundings for Arin.

But she was nowhere to be seen.

‘Did I arrive first?’

Realizing Arin hadn’t entered the arena yet, Michel immediately sprinted towards the center of the arena with glinting eyes.

‘I must take the center!’

Standing in the center of the circular arena would expose him easily to Arin.

But conversely, no matter which entrance Arin appeared from, he could charge at her instantly.

In other words, he could narrow the gap with her in advance.

‘Good start.’

Michel gripped his twin axes tightly, sprinting while keeping an eye on his surroundings.

His speed was so swift that he reached the arena’s center in an instant.

And then, at that moment.

‘There she is.’

The entrance at the two o’clock direction.

A shadowy figure could be glimpsed within.

Michel instinctively recognized it as Arin.

‘Here she comes!’

Just as he expected, the blue-haired girl emerged from that direction.

Arin, who had already pulled her white bow to its fullest, released the bowstring as soon as she crossed the threshold of the entrance into the arena.

Thwip-!

There was only one sound, but the trajectory split into three paths.

The moment he saw this, Michel heightened his focus to the extreme.

Whooosh—.

Both of Michel’s hand axes spun like windmills, and he remained vigilant, his sharp eyes focused on the slowed-down scene.

Then, suddenly, two arrows appeared right next to him.

Clang-clang-clang—.

The arrows had appeared so abruptly it almost seemed like teleportation, but Michel, who had already been on high alert, easily shattered both arrows into pieces.

Yet, he did not let his concentration and tension waver.

He had already confirmed that Arin had fired three arrows.

‘Where’s the last one?’

The fact that arrows fired simultaneously could arrive at different times was surprising enough.

But what truly startled Michel was what happened afterward.

Sssss—.

Within the slowly flowing time.

As Michel scanned the air, searching for the third arrow, something strange caught his senses.

It was approaching quickly, staying low to the ground.

Michel felt a chill run down his spine when he sensed it.

‘What is this?!’

He had naturally expected the arrow to fly from a high position.

However, Arin’s third arrow was flying almost flat against the ground.

Realizing this, Michel urgently moved to protect his ankles.

But then.

Whoosh—!

The third arrow suddenly shot up at a 60-degree angle from the ground.

Michel’s eyes widened at the impossible trajectory.

‘What kind of bizarre archery is this?!’

An arrow flying so low to the ground, only to suddenly change direction and shoot upward.

Was this really archery as he knew it?

Michel was utterly dumbfounded.

But he couldn’t just stand there in shock.

He focused intensely and twisted his body sideways.

‘Move… move! Faster!’

Thwack—.

Michel twisted his body with all his might, and the arrow that had been aiming directly for his heart embedded itself in his shoulder instead.

Michel felt a rush of exhilaration.

‘Got it!’

Thanks to his quick thinking, he had avoided a fatal injury.

Though his shoulder was hit, it was a wound he could still move with.

Now, there was only one thing left for him to do.

‘Where is she?’

Michel’s focus locked onto Arin.

Then, in the distance, he saw her in his slowed vision, pulling back her bowstring for the next attack.

Michel smiled with confidence.

‘That was impressive archery, but now that I’ve experienced it once, it won’t work on me again!’

He understood that her archery was beyond conventional skills.

It displayed a level of abnormal unpredictability.

From now on, he would keep all possibilities in mind and focus on defense.

Just as he was about to charge at Arin with that thought.

Thwip- Thwip- Thwip-.

His left tricep, right scapula.

And even his right calf.

Simultaneously, intense pain surged through all three spots.

‘…Ugh?!’

Michel was momentarily paralyzed, unable to grasp what had happened to him.

In that moment, Arin released the bowstring she had pulled.

Thwip- Thwip- Thwip-.

Three more arrows struck him—one in his left knee, one in his abdomen, and one in his right wrist.

Thud—.

Unable to run, Michel fell to one knee.

Even as this happened, he still couldn’t understand what was happening to him.

‘What is this…?’

He had definitely seen Arin fire the last three arrows.

But the three arrows that struck him from behind—he had no idea when they were fired.

‘Did I… miss her movements?’

No, that couldn’t be.

While he had been focused on dodging arrows, he had consciously kept a close watch on Arin.

So he was sure of it.

After firing the first three arrows, the only other arrows Arin had shot were the most recent three.

‘Then when were these three arrows from behind…?’

What kind of trickery had caused six arrows to suddenly become nine?

While Michel was overwhelmed by confusion, a hypothesis flashed through his mind.

Michel’s face stiffened.

“Could it be… was it all an act from the beginning?”

What if he wasn’t the first to arrive at the arena?

What if Arin Helga had arrived first and pretended to show up late just to catch him off guard?

‘That would… explain everything.’

If she was an archer capable of adjusting the arrival times of arrows shot simultaneously, then perhaps she could pull off this kind of extraordinary trick.

Michel’s guess was spot-on.

‘Success!’

Arin grinned brightly as her pre-laid plan succeeded.

As soon as the entrance order was given, Arin had sprinted into the arena as if her feet were on fire.

Upon entering, the first thing she did was shoot three arrows high into the sky.

She then returned to the entrance and hid in the shadows, waiting until she saw Michel enter before acting as if she had just arrived.

If Michel had arrived even slightly later.

If the timing had been off by even a little, she would have wasted three of her limited arrows.

But Arin had successfully executed her plan.

As a result…

“Guh!”

Michel Ang, ranked third among the 48th class, was brought to his knees.

In less than ten seconds after the match had begun.

With Groups 7 and 8 having ended in unchallenged victories, it was assumed by the audience that Group 9, with Arin’s main weapon being a bow, would also end swiftly in Michel’s favor.

However, when the match actually unfolded in the arena, they were left speechless.

“…….”

“…….”

Michel Ang, kneeling with seven arrows lodged in his body.

Facing him, Arin Helga still aiming her bow.

The outcome, produced by archery that had been subtly looked down upon within the Cradle.

And the fact that it was a first-year defeating a third-year with near-divine archery, not just any ordinary opponent.

Many cadets couldn’t help but be shocked.

The only ones unfazed were Yuri and his group.

“…You’ll never know how terrifying those devilish arrow movements are until you experience them firsthand.”

“To be honest, I don’t ever want to fight Arin barehanded now, senior.”

“I’m hungry.”

Theresia and Gunther, assessing Arin’s archery that they had experienced firsthand.

And Poppy nodding along in agreement.

All of them knew.

Aside from Yuri, the one who had shown the steepest growth among them was Arin.

They knew well how much her archery had advanced, so the three had no choice but to acknowledge it.

As the three of them nodded in recognition.

“Tsk!”

A tongue-clicking sound came from one side.

Everyone turned their gaze toward the source.

There, they saw Yuri, chewing jerky in a nonchalant manner.

Frowning at Arin, who still had her bow drawn, he said, “That dumbass! What is she standing around for? She should be firing more arrows in that time! What if he gets up? Tsk tsk.”

At Yuri’s words, the onlookers turned their eyes back to the arena, thinking, ‘No way, would he really move after getting hit by seven arrows?’

“Ah…?”

“Huh?!”

As if responding to Yuri’s words, Michel was indeed rising to his feet.