Chapter 117: Grabbed

"I don't need you, kid," Swift said, pushing himself in front of Ned. "I reached level eight without someone's help, pretty sure I can do it now." He cocked his mechanical bow and with a clang, he dashed forward the champion. Joining the party of uncertainty.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you," Ned said, throwing his voice to trail Swift. Yet, Swift didn't bother to turn around. Ned saw him release dozens of arrows hitting the champion's muscle engraved back. But the arrows weren't enough for the champion to be bothered with pain. It kept on roaring as it ran toward the other participants.

"Can't win standing here, right?" Don said, pulling his golden string and dashed forward, following the trails of Swift.

The game was supposed to be solo. But, why send a monster that at least four parties were needed to take it down. Ned thought.

He remained standing in the middle of the shallow pond. Grasses touched his knees, while water bumped his feet as if trying to get inside its boots. Ned looked behind his shoulder. He saw trees of different sizes, and rocks of different cuts. He looked up, he should see stars or the moon since it been two hours after he entered the ruins of Burmstone. Yet, what he saw was a grey dome, or maybe engraved stones, that acted as a roof.

"What now, kid?" A voice punched at Ned's side. Lazy, and breaking voice, as if the voice was taking its time to be processed. Yet, sharp and concise. It was the old man, standing to Ned's left.

"What do you mean, old man?" Ned replied in a haste. He was about to jump in action and test his plan but was abruptly stopped by the old man, little younger than his master.

He wore his hair cleanly. Gray, Ned was pretty sure it was due to old age. He was almost bald, except for the hair that sprouted atop its head and was braided until his shoulder, like a horsetail. He stood direct, and always on guard. Wearing a loose and tattered robe. Every time the old man moves, a sound escaped; it was the robe screeching into the old man's skin.

"I saw you standing," the old man said. Bow to his left, quiver to his back, and two arrows to his right. "At first this old memory of mine thought you were afraid. But, seeing you with my"—he pointed to his right eye while holding the two arrow—"keen eyes. I'm pretty sure you were planning."

Ned smiled and thought: He wasn't ordinary, I could smell a whiff of cold and calm air from him. "What's the take?" Ned said, a response to the old man's keen eyes. Although old, his face wasn't filled with a mark of time, or wrinkles as the other people said.

"Mana stone," the old man replied, he smiled, and added: "But I'm pretty sure you won't give it, so seventy-thirty, you'll be the latter. But you take the stone."

"Seventy-fifty," Ned replied. Bargaining. "You take the latter, I don't want the stone."

"What?!" The old man said. He took a step back, before relaxing his stiffened shoulders, and realized that Ned wasn't being a comical at all. "Others kill for that stone, but you? You prefer silver than stone?" He shook his head, now smiling. "I'm not sure if you're just stupid, or for some reason, you needed silver more than the stone."

I have twenty-nine thousand of that, why would I bother to get another one? Ned was supposed to answer but seeing how people reacted with a single mana stone. He swallowed the pride. "Well, I'm different."

"Indeed you are, kid," said the old man, retracting his breath, back to his old wandering chest. "I'm Saul." He took the privilege and tapped his chest with a nod.

"I'm Ned," Ned replied. It's losing, sometimes it's there, sometimes it's gone. The smell, Saul's smell. Ned knotted his brow as he thought. He looked at Saul across him and pondered if he could pull the plan. Depending on how good Saul with the bow, he might pull the plan to action. "How good is your aim?"

Although aside from small freckles and wrinkles, Saul didn't have facial hair yet he kept on brushing his chin. "Ho ho," he said smiling. "Trying to test me?" He raised his hands, two arrows were nocked in his bow. Maybe, the simplest of bow Ned has seen so far. No engravings, no magical leak, no golden string. Just a plain old bow. Yet—

Saul released the arrows, traveling smooth and hitting the champion's right arm while the other grazed. Saul then blew a breath. "I'm once a hunter kid, I struggled at Silver Rank, eventually settled here," Saul said. "How about you kid? Why would I join a party with you—"

Ned raises his left hand, with a click, three arrows flew hitting the champion's nape. All in one spot. All these while the champion was rampaging toward the bald hunter.

Saul nodded. "Not bad," he then said. "So what's your plan, pretty sure you have one."

Ned looked behind his back. "The trees," he said nodding. "Wait for my cue." And dashed forward, he then heard Saul's voice asking if what would be the cue?

Supposedly, there should be nine participants fighting the champion, but the other one lost its arm and decided to back away from the fight and gave up on the prize. Either way, he already won his bet at level nine. But his arm and bow remained to stick at the muddy ground.

Swift attacked at almost forty meters apart, while the rest jumbled up. Either they went running away from the champion or setting themselves at a proper angle and distance. Swift should have at least tried thirty meters.

Thirty—no, twenty should be the ideal range for Ned's mechanical bow. And so he did, Ned pushed himself at twenty meters. Passing Don and Liv as they aimed with careful eyes. And passing three more participants. Ned stopped and aimed at the champion, while it trailed the bald hunter. He shot one, hitting the champion's nape. He shot twice, hitting again. But at twenty meters, the arrows weren't penetrating.

Instead, Ned moved forward, even closer to the champion. The bald hunter opened his eyes with surprise, the game was supposed to be won by a single person. Yet, the bald man's eye shows that he was confused. For him, Ned the lunky, and rawboned kid who stood at the side shaking his feet, wasn't supposed to help him.

Ned intervened. He used the champion's butt as a notch, followed by its back, and shoulder. Giving him a good chance to jump. Ned soared in the air, his left arm pointing at the champion, and with a click of his finger, two arrows departed out the small hollow-tube of the mechanical bow.

The champion was about to hack the bald hunter, which he still used his massive crossbow as a shield when his enraged senses determined an arrow aimed at his neck. The champion blocked the arrow with a clang. The ax covered its neck perfectly. But not the eye. Ned let the second arrow flew with a small delay, enough that the arrow hit the champion's eyes, but not too long that it would give the champion a time for a second block.

The right side of the champion's eye was shut off. The arrow nudges enough for it to let green blood oozing. The champion pulled the arrow boring its right eye, the wound wasn't serious, but enough that the champion had no other choice but to close its eye for the moment. He glared at Ned, passing his burden and contempt out its remaining eye. It roared, forgetting that he was about to hack the bald hunter. The raged was directed to Ned.

The bald hunter tumbled backward. Pressing the wet floor with his butt. "A good taunt," he muttered.

Ned landed on the ground. Water splashed; mud soaked; the champion roared.

"Not yet," Ned muttered.

"Kid!" Swift cried behind Ned. "What are you doing?! Get out of there, now!"

Liv moved forward while his bow was half raised. Cocking an eyebrow.

Don was startled. Others ran away from the champion, while the kid, Ned, approached it. "Why—"

A brief figure of Ned passed alongside Don. Ned was fast the air beside him hummed.

The champion followed Ned. But the participants wouldn't let it happen. The bald hunter, and the rest, aside from Ned, and Saul, fired their arrows at once.

The champion stopped. Raised both of its thick arms, and planted its feet on the ground. With a roar, it twisted its body. First its hips, waist, then his entire body. It spun its body like a raging storm, a streak of silver and black fur blurred, while the small ax slung on its waist waved back and forth. Arrows that entered the twister; snapped, or broke tinder. Not a single once managed to hit the champion. It stopped. And lunged forward, following the kid who blinded his right eye.

Ned stopped when his almost fifty meters inside the wet forest, vines crept, insects buzzed, and Saul hid behind a human-sized rock. The rock was massive it could be called a boulder. Saul nocked two arrows and waited for Ned's cue.

Ned nodded and gestured to wait while the ground trembled with the incoming champion.

Ned spun and faced the champion. He fired arrows while the champion crossed its ax across his body to block the swarm of arrows.

It was still enraged, the pain it felt was less than normal, all he could think of was to kill. It throttled going to Ned. Ax crossed, head leaned forward. Silver fur waved. Right eye wounded.

With Ned's combat display on, digits appeared on the champion's right eye, knees, and neck.

Neck and eye were out of the game. Ned thought. And was sure that the eyes and neck would be heavily guarded.

Ned approached the ramming champion, he slid on the wet ground, mud and leaves mixed together.

The champion slammed its ax but failed to hit Ned between his legs.

Ned release arrows, but the champion disregarded it by jumping forward. Hitting nothing but air.

The champion smirked. And jumped once more. Aiming at the lying Ned.

Ned rolled as the champion landed and with a failed attempt to hit Ned with its ax.

Ned flipped and stood upright. He then runs to the nearest tree and positioned himself facing the champion, and behind him was a fat tree with orange leaves.

The champion pivoted, his left arm crossed its chest, while the right was waving behind. At an awkward angle, the champion hacked Ned.

Ned slightly bent his neck and evaded the ax with ease. The ax that was supposed to hit Ned was stuck in a tree. The ax burrowed deep that the champion used its strength and eventually gave up when the ax won't move an inch.

Ned flicked his wrist, releasing arrows, after arrows, hitting the champion's chest. Almost a dozen were stuck and bleeding.

The champion roared, jumped backward, leaving the ax in a tree, and pulled the small ax hanging on his waist. Massive ax on its left, and small ax on its right. The champion dashed forward.

Then stopped, and screamed. A scream of extreme pain. Its enraged state has ended. All the pain that accumulated from the last minutes of battles screamed; trying to find a way to leave the massive green's body. Saliva drooled, blood from its eye seeped, and every hit of the arrow felt a horror of burning sensation.

"Now!" Cued Ned.

It has been a long time since Saul felt a tingling sensation running his fingers. A sensation he rarely encountered when releasing arrows at a satisfying moment. A moment where he aimed for an eye will hit an eye. An arrow aimed at the remaining eye of the champion flew, while the other one on its neck.

After the raged was over, the champion's muscles decreased in size, almost half an inch, but it never stopped his senses. The champion was forced to raise its arm to block the arrows.

Before the arrows could hit the champion, Ned bolted, giving the champion no time to decide: lower his block, and stop Ned, and let the two arrows hit its eye. He couldn't jump backward, since a tree was blocking behind; or he could block the arrows and kick Ned at the same time.

The champion's eye gleamed silver: block the arrows and kick Ned at the same time.

If only the champion was at enraged state. Now that the rage broke off, all the pain run into its body, and for once, he lost control. He couldn't kick Ned, nor jump, or block the arrow. He still tried to raise its arm, but it wouldn't move.

The champion twisted its neck, saving his other eye from being hit, but not saving his big ears; the big hollow ear. The size of the hole in its ear was enough for the arrow to pass and pierce straight its brain. The pupil of its eye jerked upward as the arrow hit the inside of its head with a thwack followed by a slurp-slurp sound. The other arrow hit its neck, piercing its throat.

Ned grabbed the necklace before the massive champion fell. But the champion didn't. It fell on its knee, let go out the ax, and breath. And breathe once more. And breath for the last time. It died curling its body on its knee.

The announcer then cried breaking: "Le... Le... Let the countdown begin!"