Vikara got closer to Amon, but just then an arrow made of wind dashed toward him from behind.
Vikara took another step closer to Amon. Just then.
Whoosh!
An arrow made of wind shot toward him from behind.
Vikara's eyes widened slightly. He twisted his body at the last moment, the arrow grazing past his shoulder and tearing through the air before dispersing.
He clicked his tongue in irritation.
"…Annoying."
Behind him, a battered human staggered forward.
It was the man Vikara had beaten earlier.
His silver armor was cracked and bent. Blood ran down his face and arms. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and his breathing was uneven. Yet he was still standing.
He lowered his bow and let out a rough breath.
"So… you're not done yet," Vikara said coldly.
The man didn't answer. He dropped the bow to the ground and reached for another weapon.
A sword.
His hand trembled as he gripped it, but his stance steadied. He placed himself between Vikara and Amon.
