Chapter 196 - The Great Battle of the Dragons (5)
Chapter 196: The Great Battle of the Dragons (5)
Arin skillfully lodged arrows into her opponent’s body with her peculiar archery technique.
She had let her guard down a bit.
No, to be honest, it wasn’t just her; most people likely felt the same.
A total of seven arrows were embedded in his body.
While none of them were fatal, they were lodged in critical areas that made it difficult for him to move immediately.
In fact, Arin had aimed precisely at such spots.
Yet, even with seven arrows stuck in him, Michel was rising to his feet.
Hiss–!
Michel pulled out the arrows that impeded his movement, causing small fountains of blood to spurt from the wounds.
Arin, who watched this in disbelief, blinked her eyes.
‘…He’s still standing after that?’
What kind of guy was this? Did he not even feel pain?
Clicking her tongue, Arin nocked another arrow.
‘Fine, I just need to keep shooting until he can’t get up anymore!’
With that thought, Arin released her bowstring.
And then.
Thwack- Thwack-!
Thunk Thunk-!
Two more arrows pierced Michel’s thighs, causing his body to stagger momentarily.
But he didn’t fall.
Instead, he calmly looked down at the new arrows embedded in his thighs.
His gaze was as indifferent as if he were looking at someone else’s body, not his own, riddled with arrows.
Hum-.
Was he now too annoyed to even bother pulling the arrows out?
With a casual flick, he broke the shafts of the arrows.
Tat-tat-tat-.
Michel started charging directly at Arin.
Arin shivered as she watched him.
‘Even after taking all that… he’s still going?’
Biting her lip, she pulled out three more arrows and mumbled something softly before nocking them onto her bowstring.
Tst-tst-tst-.
The moment the ivory light imbued the arrows, Arin released the bowstring.
Swish- Swish- Swish-.
The arrows split into three as they left the bow.
Crackle- Crackle- Crack!
The arrows moved like sinister serpents, snaking their way in all directions.
They flew towards Michel from different directions.
The audience, witnessing the impossible, almost magical movement of the arrows, gasped in astonishment.
“Crazy?! Is that really the archery I know?”
“How can arrows… move like that?”
Could it be the archery of the Lin tribe, who were said to have the blood of ancient elves?
As exclamations of shock erupted from various places, Yuri swallowed a piece of jerky and nodded.
‘Well, it’s worth being surprised over.’
Sword, spear, blade, shield, and so on.
With various weapons, one could perform wondrous feats like holy sword techniques, magic sword skills, and other astonishing arts.
Arguably, those feats could be considered stranger than arrows that change direction in midair.
Yet, the reason why the cadets were so shocked was because of perception.
They fundamentally regarded the weapons they wielded as extensions of their hands and bodies.
In a world where numerous martial techniques were widespread.
No matter how peculiar or extraordinary the techniques and skills were, they were, after all, martial techniques executed with weapons considered an extension of the body, so they simply accepted them as “Oh, such things exist.”
But archery was different.
It involved shooting a physical object—an arrow.
Even those well-versed in martial techniques found it hard to consider arrows as extensions of their hands and bodies.
‘It’s like seeing severed limbs moving on their own.’
Of course, martial arts that specialize in archery do exist.
Rare as they are, there certainly were skills that surpassed ordinary archery.
But even taking that into account, Arin’s archery was at an exceptional level.
‘Even the Old Man acknowledged it.’
The unorthodox unpredictability of Arin’s archery was so extraordinary that it left even Johan, who had seen countless experiences, in awe.
[In all my life, I’ve never seen such wild and unruly arrows before.]
Arin’s archery surpassed the ordinary movements that arrows could have.
Even the archers wielding martial techniques that Johan had encountered, including those from the Lin tribe, couldn’t do what she did.
[That’s absolutely not normal. Even with martial arts, to intervene with arrows that have already left the string? That’s not something even those who have attained a Zone can easily do.]
While it’s possible to move objects with mana, even that could only be attempted by those officially at the 7th level or higher.
Yet Arin was accomplishing this as effortlessly as having a meal.
As Johan assessed, this was far from ordinary.
And Yuri had some inkling of how Arin’s peculiar power worked.
Not just Yuri, but everyone who had sparred with Arin for a long time had a rough idea.
‘That muttering habit of hers.’
Arin often mumbled softly or brought the arrowhead to her lips right before shooting.
Recently, the habit of bringing arrows to her lips had decreased, but she continued to mumble consistently.
And as soon as she finished that act, the arrows would fly imbued with light.
Following routes that were unimaginably bizarre.
It was impossible not to notice.
‘What could that be? What kind of power is that?’
Yuri looked down at Arin.
She was always bright, embodying the epitome of freedom.
Though she seemed to always reveal everything about herself, Yuri was convinced that among those around him, Arin harbored the most secrets.
The Helga family, that mysterious archery, and her strange abilities.
Little was known about Arin.
And beyond that…
‘She’s hiding so much.’
As Yuri was contemplating Arin, the arrows she had shot reached Michel from all different directions.
Michel swung his twin axes, attempting to knock down all three arrows.
Whoosh-.
As if anticipating this, the three arrows changed direction again in midair.
Arrows that seemed to be possessed by spirits.
Even in this astonishing situation, Michel managed to deal with two arrows.
However, he failed to block the last one, which lodged into his back.
Thunk-.
Staggering slightly from being hit by yet another arrow, Michel showed no reaction as he resumed his halted charge.
As the distance between Michel and Arin quickly closed, Arin bit her lip and did her best to increase the gap between them.
All the while, she didn’t forget to keep firing arrows.
Swish- Clang-!
Thud-!
Every time Arin released an arrow, most were shattered by Michel’s hand axes, but one inevitably found its mark in Michel’s body.
This pattern repeated over and over.
Arin kept her distance while Michel relentlessly closed in.
The chaser and the chased.
The shooter and the one receiving the shots.
As the chase continued, the gap between them remained stubbornly constant, and arrows kept raining down at regular intervals.
With each volley, the number of arrows embedded in Michel’s body steadily increased.
The spectators were horrified by what they saw.
Arin’s archery was abnormal.
But Michel, enduring all of it while charging forward, was equally abnormal.
Anyone else would have been immobilized or near death by now, yet Michel moved as though he felt no pain at all.
The secret behind this unnatural movement was revealed through Goetz’s murmurs.
“…Bloody Dummy.”
A secret martial technique known as the “Bloody Dummy” or the “Bloody Doll,” used by Michel Ang.
It was the technique that had elevated him to the official rank of third among the 48th generation.
Its effect was simple.
It erased the sense of pain and drastically amplified vitality.
So even when his body was torn and slashed, and he was pushed to his limits, he could keep moving until the end.
At a glance, it resembled the widely known berserker martial technique, but the two were distinctly different.
Berserkers lost their reason and unleashed incredible power by pushing the body beyond its limits, but Bloody Dummy offered no such amplification of strength.
Instead, Bloody Dummy retained ‘reason.’
Rather than losing control and rampaging like a berserker, it suppressed pain and only amplified vitality to an extreme, making the user resemble a moving corpse.
That’s why Goetz was worried for Arin.
‘Now that he’s using that… Michel won’t fall easily.’
The way to deal with Bloody Dummy was simple.
Defeat the opponent before they could activate Bloody Dummy.
But if the opponent managed to activate Bloody Dummy, there were only two ways to deal with it: the user stopping it themselves, or…
‘…Killing them.’
Goetz fervently hoped Arin would be alright.
Clatter-.
Arin reached into her quiver, but felt a hollow space.
The number of arrows left on her fingertips made her expression tense.
‘Only about ten left…’
She had brought 50 arrows today.
In other words, she had already used 40 of them so far.
And indeed, Michel’s body was littered with countless arrows, as if he were a porcupine.
Arin was in shock.
‘What kind of body does he have?’
For a normal person, these injuries would have been enough to prevent movement, if not outright kill them.
Yet Michel was still moving.
‘If I were slower than him? If it became a close-range battle instead of a ranged one?’
In that case, she would have had to face a monster that kept moving no matter how many wounds it sustained.
So Arin had to admit.
‘Luck was on my side in this matchup.’
Her compatibility was perfectly suited to this fight.
Her opponent was neither particularly fast nor exceptionally strong.
He simply had unyielding stamina and vitality.
If it had been someone else with close-combat weapons, that tireless and unyielding foe would have been terrifying.
Only now did Arin fully grasp why Michel Ang was ranked third among the 48th generation.
She began to ponder.
‘How on earth can I make him fall? Can he really not die?’
Such complaints ran through Arin’s mind until a sudden thought struck her.
‘…Not die? Really?’
He had lost so much blood.
He was so badly injured.
‘And yet, he’s still… not dying?’
Could that be possible?
As that thought crossed her mind, the tension in her drawn bowstring eased slightly.
Unable to pull the bowstring again, she began to flee rapidly.
This repeated several times until Michel’s movements suddenly halted.
“You…”
Maintaining a set distance, Michel glared at Arin with eyes brimming with murderous intent.
“What the hell are you doing?”
A figure drenched in blood.
His fierce, blue eyes fixed on Arin as a low growl escaped his lips.
Facing this menacing sight, Arin replied with a grim expression.
“If I keep going… you’ll die, senior.”
“What?”
“So… stop it.”
Arin spoke softly, trying to persuade him.
Michel’s shoulders began to shake.
“Kuh… kuhuhuh.”
He looked at Arin as if she were absurd.
“Kuhuhu, die? Me?”
“I don’t know what’s keeping you moving right now… but that power, it doesn’t come without side effects, right?”
“And?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you worried about that?”
“Why? Well, of course…”
“Are you stupid, naive, or are you pitying me?”
“……”
“Oh, I see what it is!”
A twisted smile spread across Michel’s lips.
“You messed up my body this badly, but now, when it comes down to actually killing someone… you’re scared, huh?”
Michel swept his blood-soaked hair back with his hand.
The mockery in his gaze made Arin’s shoulders tremble slightly.
Michel’s sneer grew even darker.
“What a pathetic girl. In this age of Sword Masters, and in the very heart of the Cradle no less… to hesitate about killing someone now.”
His cutting words tore into Arin.
“To think my opponent is someone with that little resolve is utterly disgraceful.”
“……”
“From the moment I stepped into this arena… I was ready to kill you with everything I had!”
As Michel shouted, his axes glowed red-hot.
And then.
Boom-!
With a deafening explosion that tore the ground, Michel charged at Arin.
Michel’s sudden assault.
Arin’s reaction, on the other hand, was slightly delayed.
Of course, even then, the gap between her and Michel was not one that could be closed in just one leap.
If it were, Michel would have caught up to her long ago.
But Michel, too, knew he couldn’t catch her in a single leap and had already prepared his next move.
This initial leap was merely the setup for what was to come.
Shaaak-.
Blood splattered as multiple arrows were pulled out.
Michel threw the arrows he had taken from his own body towards Arin.
Swish-!
The arrows flew like hidden weapons.
Without the strange movements that the original owner’s arrows had, they weren’t a major threat, but they were enough to disrupt Arin’s path.
And Michel didn’t throw just one or two arrows.
He quickly pulled out and hurled dozens of arrows he had collected in his body at Arin.
Swish Swish-.
It was only natural that Arin’s expression grew tense as she dodged the incoming arrows.
Michel laughed maniacally at this sight.
“Kuhahaha! This… this is it!”
Every time Arin dodged the arrows flying at her, the distance between her and Michel gradually closed.
Arin realized what was happening.
‘Ah, this guy… He collected my arrows with this in mind from the beginning!’
To catch her off guard.
And for this very move.
Michel had endured up to now, receiving so many arrows with his body for this.
All the while becoming more and more ghastly.
‘It’s just a match… It’s only a match, so why would he go this far?’
Arin clenched her teeth as she watched Michel close in on her.
“Just wait right there; I’ll be right there! Kuhahaha!”
The threatening arrows came flying fast.
The sharp killing intent directed at her.
The heavy scent of blood closing in from all directions.
The moment when all of this converged, voices from her past resurfaced and echoed in her ears.
A bright, warm, comforting voice.
[Arin, my sweet little princess… don’t try so hard to do everything perfectly. I just want you to… live joyfully, have fun… and be happy, always.]
A dark, cold, emotionless voice.
[Offer yourself to restore the glory of our family. Even if it means your very existence crumbles… that is your sole reason for being.]
A voice that was both warm and cold… warm yet cold, damp with moisture.
[Go… leave. And never… come back.]
The voices from her past that she had struggled to suppress floated up, swirling in her mind.
Her once-clear eyes grew murky.
‘Can’t I just… just live freely, taking things easy? Why do I have to give my all in everything?’
Meanwhile, Michel had closed the gap to just five steps away from Arin.
A cruel smile appeared on his lips.
“If you don’t have the resolve to kill your opponent!”
The distance shrank to four steps.
Arin’s eyes filled with questions.
‘Why?’
Three steps away, Michel raised his axes high.
“Then it’s you who has to die!”
Two steps. Arin’s questioning look turned into anger, and she gripped her bowstring tightly.
‘…Why do I have to die?’
And with the last step.
Michel’s axes slashed toward Arin in an X-shape.
Swish-.
The white bowstring twanged lightly.