Chương 93: Battle of Nothing II

The moment Evel saw the barrels and before the soldiers could fire, he had made a quick decision. He couldn't control the momentum of his body to such a degree to pivot, but at the very least, he could maybe protect his vitals. With the remaining cards in his hands, he quickly formed a fan and extended it in front of him, and instead of trying to pause or redirect his momentum, he pushed forward instead. The two bullets sizzled through the air, both headed square for Evel's body.

One struck the fan, the cards barely deflecting the momentum, yet unable to stop the sheer force from mangling his hand. The other bullet struck his forearm, digging deep and hitting his nerves, causing his grip on the cards to falter. At almost the same time, his two metal cards struck Blake and Graham on their upper body.

"ARGHHHHH!" The three let out pained screams in unison, sending Evel and Blake flying back, and causing Graham to drop his weapon. The weight of two bullets was intense, pushing his entire body backward. As he slowly toppled over, Eth raced around his body and supported his back. With another push, he regained his footing. Across from him, Blake slowly struggled to push himself off the ground, moving slowly and with heavy wheezes as he fought to get up.

With three unnaturally sharp and heavy cards lodged in him, his bleeding had already intensified. Graham already caught his footing. His aura flared, and another firearm appeared in his hand, discarding the one on the ground completely. With sharpened eyes, filled with focus and determination, his head snapped to Evel. The nervous Graham, with a face filled with doubt from the beginning of the fight, was nowhere to be seen. Evel immediately launched his body behind a tree, accidentally landing on his mangled hand.

BANG! The bullet shattered the air, and a loud noise resonated in the forest. Evel was barely able to dodge the terrifying bullet. He bared his teeth and let out a small hiss as the throbbing in his hand raged. Before he got a chance to catch his breath, Graham's aura surged. A cold sweat dripped down Evel's neck. Graham's storage ability was just ridiculous with a curated set of weapons. At least for now, he was behind a tree.

Controlling his shaky breathing, he focused on the battle at hand instead of the searing pain in his right arm. Just how many of those does he have? The main weakness of firearms was their slow reload time, but if he could just keep firing, then what? Sure, maybe in battles involving Weavers, they wouldn't be as effective. But Evel wasn't a weaver, not even close. Evel closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. The fight was difficult, but not desperate. Not yet.

Even if he has unlimited firearms, his Energy will run out. Evel looked down at his arm. His right forearm had a small, lead ball lodged deep within it, and it continued to steadily bleed out. The control of his fingers was also completely forfeit from that bullet. Even if that bullet hadn't dug into his nerves, his right hand was unusable regardless, completely mangled from the carried force of the first bullet. Thankfully, Evel was no stranger to pain. Right now, he needed information.

Taking the risk, he peeked out from behind the tree to get a good look at his opponents. Graham was a statue, his firearm pointed directly at the tree Evel used for refuge. When Evel popped his head out, he immediately repositioned the barrel, but in the end, he didn't fire. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Below him, Blake was in the process of reloading one of the four firearms on the ground, his movements very slow and accompanied by grunts of pain. In his injured state, it would probably take him over 40 seconds to reload each firearm. At the very least, 30 seconds. Which meant Evel now had about 20 seconds before two firearms were pointed at him again. If he took even longer, then they'd have a batch of firearms ready to shoot without even needing to spend Graham's Energy. Dammit.

Expecting a battle in close quarters due to the sword he'd seen Blake carrying, he hadn't carried a lot of items on him to maintain his flexibility. Yet with how the battle had turned out, it became clearer how big of a mistake that was. No… I have everything I need. Evel took a long, deep breath. He couldn't give Blake the time to reload, so he needed to move quickly. Eth zipped through the air and grabbed a small rock from the ground. It was a bit smaller than the barrel. With it came a handful of dirt.

"I assume the two of you have come to my show?" Evel yelled, failing to hide the strain of exerting his voice. No response. Eth raced through the air, circling around the trees and remaining low on the ground to avoid being spotted with the items it was holding.

"You're probably quite curious about my teleportation act." The spectral hand finally arrived at Graham's feet from behind. If Graham's focus was truly on Evel, then he wouldn't notice the floating rock and dirt.

"Allow me to show you!" Evel launched a card at the branches above him, causing the leaves to rustle. Graham raised his barrel to the branches for a brief second before lowering it back to the tree. It was his most obvious bluff yet. To Graham, it was probably a sign of Evel's desperation. Yet during the small moment where Graham tensed his body and raised his firearm, Eth floated to the tip and dropped in the dirt and rock.

With his focus fully on Evel, he didn't notice the very subtle change in his weapon's weight. The work of the spectral hand wasn't complete, as it rushed to the trees opposite Evel and violently shook some branches. During the shake, Evel deactivated his Core ability, and his aura vanished. At the minimum, I have five seconds until Blake's done reloading—and that's assuming my distractions haven't caused him to lose focus. Evel hesitated.

The dirt wouldn't be fully packed, and the rock wasn't large enough to fully wedge itself into the barrel. He had no idea what sort of effect it would put, and if the firearm would get blocked at all. His best guess was one way or another, the gun would fail at least one shot. I need to go now! Evel popped out of the tree before immediately retreating back behind the tree. And just as expected, the tension created from his previous actions put Graham on edge enough for him to immediately pull the trigger.

But he didn't hear the loud pop, or even a dull failure, Evel was expecting. Instead, a deafening explosion rang out. Evel jumped out from behind the tree and immediately charged in. The long barrel of the gun had completely shattered into many sharp fragments, and the force of the explosion shoved Graham backwards, pushing him onto the ground.

He hadn't expected the explosion—in fact, if he knew it would explode and he was absolutely sure that Graham would pull the trigger, then Eth wouldn't be able to sabotage the gun in the first place. Whether or not he expected it no longer mattered. The explosion had happened, and he intended to make full use of it. Before Blake could finish reloading, Evel launched another card with his working hand, digging deep into Blake's hands.

"ARGGH!" He retracted his arm, scrambling backward. Evel pushed forward, stomping on the almost reloaded firearm, fully destroying it. Then, he pivoted hard to Graham, the biggest threat. The short, brown-haired man was on the ground, his eyes wide open in fear. His jaw quivered, releasing a small squeal of horror as he tried to stand back using his legs. Much like Evel's right hand, both of Graham's hands were completely mangled from the explosion of the firearm's failed shot.

Seeing the desperation in his eyes, Evel realized he had been wrong. Graham, the biggest threat? No, this man could no longer be considered a threat.

"You piece of shit!" Blake's screech rang out from behind him. The soldier charged, awkwardly holding his sword without a proper grip, and his body a canvas of cards and blood. It was impressive that he even managed to remain on his feet. Evel turned and met him in the middle. Blake rushed in with a wide swing, but in his current state, it was just too slow. Just too telegraphed. Evel got close and shoved Blake's hand downward.

The weapon fell out of his hands, but before he could recover, Evel followed up with a kick to his gut, sending him tumbling to the ground. He reached into this pocket and rapidly launched three more cards, all three landing squares on his body. Blake released a shrill scream as he toppled backwards, his body littered with injuries. Unless he was brought into immediate care, he was a dead man. A surge of aura flashed behind Evel. Evel jerked around; Graham summoned another firearm.

But with the condition of his arms, he had no way of actually wielding it.

"Fight me instead, bastard." He screamed, his voice airy and his tears threatening to spill over. Taking long, unstable breaths, Evel watched the desperate man struggle to pick up the weapon with his broken hands. Veins popping from his neck, his head snapped at the sun, where the uncaring dot watched from above.

"I've won." The words tore out of him.