Then the crowd began to boo.
Yelling at the fighters for talking instead of fighting.
Brakka frowned at the lack of reaction and continued with his taunting.
"Seriously...the human would've made a better opponent!"
Sylen said nothing, his face still unreadable, calm like still water.
Without a word, he raised his bow again. His fingers pulled back the string, an arrow resting against it. But he didn't let it fly. Not yet.
The arrow began to glow—faint at first—then brighter. A soft hum of energy vibrated through the air.
He was charging it. Filling it with Emi.
From across the arena, Brakka scoffed.
"Another one of those pathetic arrows?" he growled, baring his teeth.
"Is that the only trick you've got?"
The Kruckle started charging again, red lightning crackling around him like a storm made flesh.
But Sylen released the arrow.
FWOOOM!
The arrow shot forward, glowing like a comet, then...
BOOM!
