Chương 12: Chapter 13: Tug of War

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Evel watched in dread as the man stumbled towards him, his left side staggered, and a crossbow on his right. He hastily recalled Eth. Think! Think of something! Evel tried his best, but when facing the weight of his own possible demise, it was impossible to have a perfectly clear mind. He no longer had a method of injuring his foe from afar. His only option was now to go into the melee or run away. But the man was large, not to mention that he had a weapon.

Did Evel really even stand a chance? At this moment, he felt as if the man was looming over him. Was his only option to run? Even if he ran, would he actually be able to get away? If he got away, would he be able to survive without a weapon? These questions gripped tightly onto Evel's mind as he considered his situation. Evel's shaky face turned to the man ahead of him. The man who would kill him today. No! Focus! Evel looked once more, but this time, focused on the injured left shoulder.

He's injured and doesn't have any bolts he could use against me, so his best bet would be to bring the fight to close quarters. If he rips out the bolts on his shoulder, his bleeding will get much worse, and I can run until he bleeds himself to death. In the moment of desperation, a flash of inspiration hit Evel. What about his weapon, the spear? A small thread of hope, a lifeline, took root in his mind, as determination drowned out his fear.

However, Evel's thoughts weren't instant, and in Evel's frenzy of thoughts, the man hadn't stopped moving. He had already gotten close and prepared to swing the crossbow, using it as a crude club. Evel took a quick back step and activated his ability once more. The transparent, imperceivable hand appeared once again. This time, it wasn't moving; it remained steady in the air, floating without a destination. Seeing his aura flare up again, the man, now only about a meter away from Evel, halted.

Evel still had a card up his sleeve: The spearman still didn't know what Evel's ability was! The spearman knew that a rock had fallen behind him and that some rope-like material had strangled his ankles, causing him to fall, but nothing specific had been revealed. Evel made eye contact with the brown-haired man and smirked. Then, for just a moment, he dismissed and resummoned Eth. The spearman stepped back and carefully checked his feet for any signs of entrapment.

Then he checked the branch above him to ensure nothing was amiss before focusing back on Evel. But by then, Evel had already bolted! He was heading for the spear. A frustrated grunt came from behind Evel, but he didn't look back. He remained focused on weaving between trees until the weapon came within his sight. The spear was wedged into a tree, but it wasn't too far away anymore. Gritting his teeth, he increased his speed even further. He was almost there!

Making use of every advantage he had, Evel dropped some caltrops along the path to further slow down his pursuer. The grass in this area was short, so Evel didn't actually expect the trap to catch the spearman off guard, but it should work to slow him down at the very least. If Evel was able to get the spear, no matter how much better the spearman was fighting, with a gravely injured shoulder and a weapon not fit for short-range fights, he would win.

A flare of Energy came from behind, causing Evel's muscles to tense. Does he still have so much Energy? But this surprise didn't impede Evel. He took a deep breath, knowing he had one chance to get this right. The spear wiggled out of the darkwood and flew back towards the man, and right as it flew through the air, Evel leaped. His body crashed into the handle of the spear, pushing it aside as he placed a firm grip around the handle. He tightened his grip, pulling back against the opposing force.

He just had to hold on. The man bit his lips as he strained his ability; a streak of crimson flowed down his lips. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The pull on the spear increased. But Evel wouldn't let go. He couldn't! Evel tugged back on the spear, his muscles bulging against the strength of his opponent's pull. His hand involuntarily slid down the handle as the metallic tip of the spear started cutting into his hand.

But the metal tip also worked to improve his grip! The pain-fueled adrenaline straight into Evel's body as he held on tight for dear life, his body slowly being dragged along with the spear. The caltrops! What he had initially placed to slow down his opponent now was being used as a trap; he was forcefully being dragged into it. HOLDDDDD! His heels dug deep into the earth, leaving two jagged trenches in the soil as the unseen force reeled him in like a hooked fish.

In the middle, the two gazes of the two recruits met, neither of them willing to give up any ground. Evel's guttural roar collided with his opponent's jagged scream, as they poured every fibre of their being into this tug of war.

"RAHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHHH!" Veins popped in Evel's neck like thick rope, his vision tunnelling as he poured every ounce of his soul into his heels. The ground below his feet had been stained by the blood in his hand, but in his frenzy, he was only focused on one thing: Pulling with everything he had. The sting of his own trap seared into his shoes, but Evel continued yelling his pain away. He must almost be out of Energy.

The man screams intensified, bathed in sweat, as he pulled on the spear as hard as he could, his thoughts clear as day: He must almost be out of stamina. Evel's body slowly got pulled further into the trap field, as more caltrops dug into him. His mind blanked, but his yells continued. Subconsciously, in this moment of desperation, his aura flared once more as Eth appeared. With every fibre of Evel's body fully focused on pulling the spear, Eth obeyed.

The spectral hand gripped onto the handle and pulled, swiftly draining the remaining bits of Energy Evel had. The trenches stopped expanding forward for the first time, and with the help of a third hand, the contest had been left at a standstill. Eth provided the final inch of leverage needed, and he felt the pull of the man's ability weakening. Seizing the moment, Evel yanked hard with a roar from deep within his chest. The pull weakened once more as Evel made ground, slowly accelerating away from his trap.

Then, the pull stopped, sending Evel flying backwards from his own momentum. The spearman's scream died in a wet wheeze. His energy had been completely depleted. In his blurry vision, a man in ripped clothes and a black tophat took deep, exaggerated breaths, holding onto his spear. Through the haze of his own exhaustion, Evel met the man's eyes. A flame burned deep within them, silently answering the question the man was too afraid to ask. The man stumbled forward and fell to the ground.

In all his pain and exhaustion, consciousness had slipped away. Evel limped closer, carefully avoiding his own traps, spear clenched in hand. Each step sent torment through his feet, as the caltrops dug deeper, but he persisted. Bloodied hands trembling, Evel raised the spear far above his head. The spear crashed down through the man's neck, delivering a deep, final blow. He won. Evel stumbled onto the ground beside the dead body and lay flat on his back. I actually killed somebody.

A cold shiver of revulsion struck him at the prospect. He had just undoubtedly taken the life of another human being, yet in this moment, he felt nothing but an uncomfortable joy. His blood cooled, and his heart calmed. Evel closed his eyes and took in the world around him. First, he heard his own breathing. It was ragged and strained, and each exhale was quivering as he released. Next, he heard his heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Compared to the intense beating a few moments ago, it had slowed down substantially.

He felt calm now despite the continued pain that seared throughout his body. Next, he heard birds singing, leaves rustling, branches creaking, insects chirping, and the wind howling. Evel lay flat on his back for a few more moments as he took in the world. Then, he quickly got up. My safety isn't even guaranteed, yet I'm already relaxing. He took off his tailcoat and ripped off some of the fabric to create a quick bandage for his hand. Although the bleeding was immense, he knew it would heal with time.

Hands just tend to bleed a lot. He focused on the stinging affliction coming from his feet. Most of the caltrops had only lightly poked him, but one small caltrop was buried deep into his left foot. Through a soft whisper, he counted down.

"Three, two, one." Evel ripped the caltrop out, then hastily bandaged up his foot. My clothes are dirty. This could get infected later… I don't have better options for now. Then, he ripped out the two bolts from the body and returned them to his quiver. A faint smile washed over Evel's face as the reality of the outcome truly set in on him. He really had won. This past week, his mind had been plagued with doubt.

His ability was harmless, his affinity was terrible, he didn't come from money, nor experience, and despite all that… He won. His mind was filled with questions. Who was that man he just killed? How had Eth activated? Why did the Imperium host a death game when they needed soldiers? Did anyone have the spearman as the target of their red compass? Questions he wouldn't get the answer to, at least not soon. He used fallen branches and leaves to cover the dead body, along with the spear.

Though they hadn't exchanged any words, he saw the hesitation in his eyes as he killed Mara. Maybe it was hypocrisy, but he truly didn't blame the spearman for being put in such a situation, He looked at the spearman's limp body one more time. The dead body was a result of his actions. His beating heart, another. Evel felt exhausted enough to collapse on the spot, but he had to move. His yells may have travelled far. He slowly limped over to the caltrops and began collecting them with shaky hands.

Although they were detrimental in this fight, Evel preferred his toolkit full. He returned to the clearing, where the dead body of Mara remained untouched. Her blood had finally stopped flowing, drying up. The smell alone almost caused Evel to collapse, but he approached the body, holding on. He grabbed onto her reflective amulet. The mirror-like surface reflected his worn-out face, deeply exhausted from the abuse he'd endured. Opening it up, Evel's eyes lingered on the photo inside.

A tanned young boy, no older than ten wore a forced smile as tears welled in his eyes. His pristine white shirt had blemishes along the sleeve. He looked just like Mara. His eyes remained fixed on the boy for a few more seconds before he stashed the amulet away in his pocket. It could be useful later. He prepared a makeshift burial for Mara with nearby leaves and branches of the great tree above her, almost toppling over as he placed the last branch. Sorry about the scrappy work.

He removed his tophat and gently placed it on the branches. Then, he walked as far as he could from the battle. He didn't make it far; his steps turned to a stumble as he hit the ground hard. He forced himself up to a seated position, back against the rough bark of darkwood. Evel closed his eyes, but didn't sleep. He just needed a bit of rest.