Anomaly of Fate
Chapter 50: Drawn and Quartered

Chapter 50: Drawn and Quartered

The bow user stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his arrow was still nocked and aimed straight at Velren’s chest. His fingers rested lightly on the string, a single pull away from loosing another shot.

"Mind letting us take over that beacon over there?"

His voice was casual, almost lazy, as if he were simply asking for directions instead of preparing to take Velren down.

Velren sighed, shifting his stance slightly.

"Sorry, but my class is dead last right now. So I kinda need the points."

The boy’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing in thought.

"Huh. So that red beacon really does belong to Class 1-C?" A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Guess that explains why you’re alone. Ya’ know, I managed to hunt down quite a few of your classmates already."

Velren remained still, but his gaze sharpened.

"The ones who ran were easy enough to pick off," the bow user continued, as if reminiscing.

"Most of them didn’t even see it coming. And the ones who tried to fight?" He let out a low chuckle.

"Well... let’s just say they won’t be swinging their weapons anytime soon."

Velren could hear the amusement in his tone—almost sounded like a taunt. A deliberate attempt to get a reaction out of him.

"Isn’t it a bit reckless of you to be here alone?" the bow user mused.

"Aren’t you worried about your friends?"

Velren let out a small chuckle.

"Unfortunately, you couldn’t be more wrong." His tone was light, almost amused.

"Because, you see, I still don’t know my classmates that well." His smirk widened.

"So I don’t really have any lingering attachments to them yet."

The bow user’s expression flickered for the briefest moment before his smirk turned into a frown. His fingers twitched—

THWIP!

The arrow shot forward, cutting through the air at lethal speed.

Velren’s body moved on instinct. With a swift step to the side, he twisted his katana into a precise angle—CLANG! The arrow deflected off the blade, spinning wildly off course before embedding itself into the sand behind him.

But the bow user was already moving.

A faint glow pulsed around him, and suddenly—

Magic circles materialized in the air.

Floating, golden sigils—each one of them was swirling with condensed energy. Before Velren could react, they fired.

A barrage of projectiles shot toward him from multiple angles.

Velren’s eyes widened, but he was already dashing forward, weaving through the deadly storm. The incoming blasts scorched the air around him, striking the sand in rapid succession—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Small craters erupted behind him, sending dust and debris flying.

Another arrow came. This time, it glowed.

Velren barely had time to raise his blade—BANG! The impact sent a jolt through his arms, the sheer force of the shot pushing him back several steps. His heels dug into the sand as he skidded to a stop.

’Shit..!’

Velren’s breath came sharp and steady, his muscles coiled like a spring. He pivoted on the sand, twisting his body just in time for an arrow to whistle past his ear—a near miss. Before he could reset his footing, another barrage was already in motion.

’How the hell should i get closer?!’

A volley of glowing arrows rained down, each one imbued with some kind of magic. Velren’s instincts screamed at him. He dove forward, feeling the wind shift as a projectile scraped past his shoulder. He didn’t stop—he couldn’t. He hit the ground rolling, coming up just in time to see another arrow hurtling straight for his chest.

’That’s too fucking fast!’

Velren twisted his wrist, flicking his katana up in a precise motion—CLANG! The arrow deflected midair, spinning wildly off course before dispersing into a faint shimmer of light. The force of the impact rattled his bones, but he had no time to dwell on it.

Because the next attack had already arrived.

His opponent was already drawing back his bowstring again, gliding his fingers over a floating magic circle that materialized beside him.

Velren’s eyes darted to the glowing sigil, and in the next instant—BANG!

A blast of compressed energy shot forth, not from the bow, but from the floating circle itself.

’A feint?!’

Velren ducked low, the force of the blast tearing through the air just inches above his head. He could feel the heat, the way it stirred the sand behind him as it detonated upon impact. But his opponent wasn’t done.

Another magic circle appeared. Then another.

Two, three, four of them floated around his opponent—like turrets, each glowing with power.

’This guy’s got a whole damn arsenal...!’

Velren pushed forward, closing the distance, but—THWIP! A streak of silver blurred toward his face.

He barely had time to phase, distorting his figure for a fraction of a second as the arrow passed harmlessly through a glitching afterimage. But even then, another explosive bolt detonated near his feet, sending a wave of sand into the air.

His movements were starting to feel constricted—less room, less footing.

And then he noticed it.

The damp sensation beneath his soles.

He dared a glance downward.

Water.

’Shit.’

His body tensed. Another step back and he’d be in the ocean itself. This was bad.

A low whistle rang out through the air.

"Nice job hanging on this far," the bow user mused, lowering his bow slightly, playing a grin at his lips.

"But this beacon? Yeah... it’s ours now."

Velren let out a breath, adjusting his grip on his katana. Then, he chuckled.

"That’s rich, coming from someone who hasn’t even landed a single—"

Wait.

Did he just say ’ours’?

And then—

The roar of waves.

His head snapped toward the ocean.

The water surged—rising unnaturally, swelling higher and higher, towering over him like a beast ready to strike.

"Water..." Velren’s teeth clenched.

"I fucking hate water!"

The wave crashed forward.

Velren reacted on instinct. His body blurred—a last-second dive, twisting away just before the water slammed down. He rolled, skidding across the sand as seawater splashed violently all around him.

He had escaped the direct hit—but not unscathed.

Soaked. Completely drenched. His uniform clung to him, droplets dripping from his hair, his katana, everything.

Velren pushed himself up, spitting out a curse.

’That was way too fucking close!’

A slow chuckle echoed from near the beacon.

Water—previously shapeless and rippling—began to shift, swirl, and take form.

A figure emerged from within.

A young man, whose body was dripping with the ocean itself, stood beside the bow user. He shook his head, exhaling.

"Man," the newcomer mused. "I thought I had him."