Becoming Legend

Kwan of the East slum wiped sweat from his brow. The seventeen-year-old kid wore clothes befitting his title. Faded vest and trousers, and a cheap sandal.

Like any other else, Kwan was determined to get out of the slum and buy his own House and maintain it for the rest of his life—which he can't afford to do so. But luck wasn't on his side, one after the other, his folks died. His father died along with some Porters after the Hunters, that should have protected them from the magical beast, left when the raid they took went sideways. The next month, a disease took his mother.

Without any siblings, or relatives. He did everything he could. At day time, he took a job as a vendor, selling magical beast parts for a mere three bronze a day, enough for a slice of bread. At night, he became a custodian in a tavern in the middle of the city, cleaning, serving, and wiping pukes of the hunter.

A hunter noticed him, eventually landing a decent job as a Companion for the hunters. Companions assist Hunters. They could be a Runner, Looter, or a Porter.

Magical rings were expensive, rings that could store items in a limited space, that only prominent nobles could afford, high ranking hunters, and some person with a great amount of luck. And so, hunters without these magical rings needed to find someone to carry extra weight for them. Companions were created. And the most well-paying companions were porters.

Like his father, Kwan became a porter. Companions could be a decent job or the worst job; depending on the party of hunters they landed.

During a raid, everything was possible. Hunters needed to take good care of their companions just like how they take good care of their weapons. It was written in their contract. But during a raid went tragic. Fuck the magical beast parts. Fuck the porter, or the runner, or the looter. Hunters only give one fuck, and that was their lives. What good the hunter if they're dead?

Kwan knew this. Yet, he was determined.  Saved some silvers, bought a bow. Joined the Chance Arrow game, saved some silver. Bet again, and lost.

Without any silvers left, the first bow he bought was used as payment for compensation.

He went back to the capital, became a porter again; saved some again. Went back to the city of Bogaressi. Prizes went high due to the war, and Kwan was short with a small amount to buy his second bow. And he saw a kid leaving the infamous furniture shop, the House of Woods.

Determined, he decided to swindle, or rob, or sell out the kid with the black cloak.

The rest, Kwan was standing at the edge of the arena, inside the ruins of castle Burmstone. Onlookers went murmuring as level five started. Behind him was Ned, looking at the Oculus. Kwan's sweat ran like a man trying to avoid the city guard, it was overflowing.

"Focus, Kwan," Ned said. "You won't beat him if you lost control. Focus on the target, perceive their movements."

At level five. The range was increased at five hundred meters. The targets moved faster, almost double the speed of level four. And distractions were thrown at the participants: sudden changes of wind direction and speed, eruptions of fire magic from the ground, some target were hidden behind the big chunk of stones—making the participants look for a proper angle.

Kwan released an arrow. It went straight to the target, following the path where Kwan had predicted. Almost a meter was needed to reach the target, but a gust of wind erupted from the ground, throwing the arrow off mid-air, breaking the arrow in half.

Rag hit two, he has been consistent and careful. His release was slow,  yet, determined. His spotter wasn't a show-off either. To hit a target, one needed a lot of focus and a good Spotter during the Chance Arrow game. Rag followed his spotter like a slave ordered by his master. Three hundred meters to the right; spherical glass shattered. Two hundred meters approaching; glass shattered.

The target speed was faster, but not for Ned. "Kwan," Ned said. Eyeing the targets with ease. "Two hundred met going forward, hit it before it leaves your hitting zone."

Kwan released an arrow. Hitting the target before a gust of wind changes its path. "That was close," he said. Swallowing a lump of saliva.

I should help him, if not, I won't be able to challenge Swift. Ned thought. Throwing a gaze at the distracted Kwan. "Do not let your mind be swayed, Kwan," Ned said, choosing the next easy target.

Kwan was a porter, not a hunter. He doesn't have a real experience battling someone or something for a kill. If he had, he will learn that focus comes next before skills.

A minute was left inside the sand hourglass. The announcer was loud about Swift, and Swift was precise, at level five he never missed, he could predict the path of his arrow just by feeling the surroundings. While Rag was ahead with twenty-two points against Kwan.

The pressure was great, he was a novice, and Kwan realized that his greatest enemy was his self. "I can't!" He cried under his panting breath.  "Ned I'm very sorry. I can't. Can't do it." His hands trembled as he lost his focus and aim. He released the last of his arrow, hitting nothing but air.

Forty seconds. Rag was ahead with thirty points and a sly smile.

"Is it possible to switch?"

Kwan nodded. Unsure if Ned could save his lousy show of skills.

Thirty-five seconds. 

It took Ned three seconds to pull the recurve bow off Kwan's stiffened arms and passed the Oculus on Kwan's chest, making the kid pulled off from his hypnotic state.

Kwan shook his head. The next thing he remembered was him hugging the Oculus across his chest while the air beside him whistled and the arrow pierced the nearest target, hitting not one but two spherical glass. Seeing Ned positioned with a straight back, relaxed arms, and focused eyes, Kwan instinctively took a step back.

"Arrows, Kwan," Ned ordered.

Kwan gazed Ned. He was entranced not by Ned's short and silver hair, or his sharp eyes, or his delicate jawlines, but because of the air surrounding him. An air only a true hunter could emit. Sharp, determined, and focused.

Kwan's hands moved on its own. Releasing straps off his shoulders and chest, letting go of the quiver behind his back. He then holds it with his left hand stretching to Ned. His right-hand holds the Oculus.

Putting faith on the kid beside him, he eyed the nearest target under the glasses. "Sixty met to your right, Ned," he said as if something was clawing inside his throat, his voice breaks, yet he continued to support Ned.

"Forty met to your left."

Target shattered.

"Sixty met forward."

A glass scrunch.

"Two-hundred met forward."

Fire magic erupted on the ground. Burning and destroying the arrow Ned released. But, known only to Ned, the burned arrow was followed by another arrow, the difference was a fraction of half a second. Successfully destroying the moving target.

Kwan could gasp by Ned's show of bow skills. Yet, it was reserved as he chose the next target. All the nearest target was destroyed, leaving only the targets at four hundred and above the mark. "Four-hundred and fifty met to your right, going to a chunk of rock."

Ned loose an arrow. Relaxed and precise. The air whistled. The wind blew, but Ned's arrow was faster, it hit before it could be blown off. Target hit, arrows flew.

"Someone's showing off!" The announcer cried. With the help of magic, his voice echoed inside the dome. The announcer was dressed in colorful clothing, gloves, twinkling shoes, long purple sleeves. Leaving only the skin of his head exposed. "Kwan's Spotter might not be a Spotter after all!"

Too late to bet, the onlooker could only shake their head.

At thirty seconds, Rag was ahead by nineteen points and a frustrated cry.

"Ah!" Rag cried. Brittle voice rung beside the proud Kwan. Aiming his bow just like how he wore his clothes—rigid.  "Who is that kid, Kwan!"

"My brother," Kwan whispered. And Ned shrugged his shoulders.

Twenty seconds, Ned's point was bolting twenty-two, catching to Rag's thirty-one.

It seemed difficult. But, a delay after a skill was conjured could be seen. Sparks flew on the ground before a fire spell burst upward. Ned took this advantage and release an arrow before the spell hits.

Ned stood relaxed. Not moving an inch on his spot, he released arrows after arrows. Given the chance, when two targets aligned with each other, Ned took this chance and hit two targets with only one arrow. Giving him double the points.

Countless battles resulted in a profound understanding of the battlefield. A blast of wind from the right, arrow swooshed, target hit. A blow from the left, arrow whistled, target shattered.

Three seconds left. Ned's points catching up at thirty while Rag sat at thirty-two.

Ned took a deep breath. Releasing an arrow as he exhaled. Piercing the target at five hundred meters, hitting another one behind. The points caught up at thirty-two.

Seeing the nearest target moved toward the big chunk of rock. Kwan's beating heart stopped at one second. The globe of glass didn't pass along the rock but hid behind the rock. If Ned couldn't hit the target, they will be at stale with Rag, making another round to decide the winner. Kwan frowned looking at the smiling Ned.

Ned relaxed his breathing and released an arrow. His hand then moved that no normal eyes could perceive. He reached and pulled an arrow out the quiver Kwan was holding. Gracefully fixed the arrow on the string, and determined the path of the first arrow. The air split in half as Ned released the arrow.

Kwan gripped the Oculus and the quiver just like how he stopped his breathing. His mind was packed with different thoughts and a question. How could Ned pull this off? Not long after, his query has been answered.

Just as the first arrow lapsed the big chunk of rock. The second arrow hit the iron tip of the first arrow, changing its direction. The first arrow flees to the right. While the second arrow rushed to the left.

Behind the chunk of rock, the target shattered in pieces. Making the points thirty-three, which gained one point ahead against the dumbfounded Rag.

Kwan's heart started to beat, he breathed and gasped. "Ned!" Was all he could say.

Rag threw the bow, splitting it in half.

The announcer gulped air before he could raise his voice. "Time's up!" He cried.

Ned lowered his shoulders, he went relaxed. But, not for long. To his left, Ned could sense something. A pressure trying to overwhelm him.

"Not bad," said Swift.