Back against wood, Evel stared at the sky and reflected on his last battle.

  Higher affinities are terrifying.

  I thought he’d be low on Energy multiple times that fight, but he still had enough for that final pull.

  That fight had been extremely taxing.

  Yet, the expression on Evel’s face didn’t show displeasure, instead it showed great excitement.

  He had made several massive gains, and his thoughts were racing at ways to utilize them to their max.

  First, his ability had grown stronger. He wasn’t sure what specifically caused the growth, but it was equivalent to multiple days of training.

  Was it desperation? Or maybe I just truly pushed it to the max?

  If Evel could figure out how to replicate this, he could curb one of the biggest weaknesses of having a low affinity: longer training breaks.

  The more someone could train with their ability, the more adept they’d get at using it, but Evel was frustrated by his slow Energy regeneration, this was a huge step to a remedy.

  His second gain was the fact he was even able to kill somebody. That meant a reward should he make it out of this forest. Although not immediately helpful, it was something he looked forward to.

  His third, and perhaps most relevant and important gain was inspiration.

  In the final struggle, Eth had helped him pull the spear, giving him just enough power to claim victory. In that moment, Evel realized something crucial

  He had underestimated his own ability.

  The invisible, imperceptible hand was weird, but its lack of capability for violence had pushed Evel into thinking it wasn’t useful for direct combat.

  Traps and bluffs, sure, but in a fistfight it would be completely useless.

  However, a real fight wasn’t just two parties trading blows in turns.

  It involved dodging, blocking, feinting, footwork, positioning, the environment, and more, many fields in which Eth could be helpful.

  For example, Evel could simply use Eth to block a punch.

  Of course, that would be a huge waste of his already scarce Energy, but the idea remained.

  What if he used Eth to slightly adjust the angle his fist traveled, negating his opponents dodge?

  What about using Eth as a handrail to regain his footing, should he lose balance?

  A wave of new applications flooded Evel’s mind as he reconsidered his fighting style.

  Of course, there were many problems as well. His Energy was very limited, Eth couldn’t teleport and took time to travel around, and most importantly, Evel had no practical training with this sort of usage, so he couldn’t determine its feasibility.

  Fueled by optimism Evel forced himself up. Ultimately, he needed to find his group and survive this trial for any hope of making use of his gains.

  He pushed forward once more, each step of his left foot enduring a sharp pain as if he was walking on a path of jagged glass.

  Earlier…

  Clang!

  The vibrations of the strike reached Brenton’s teeth, as he continued throwing strike after strike trading equal blows with his opponent.

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  In the center of an open field, these two men had been in the midst of battle for more than a minute now, and neither side had given an inch.

  His opponent went for a wide cross slash, and Brenton made use of the opportunity.

  THUD!

  The longsword slammed into his buckler with immense weight as Brenton forearm strained under the pressure. Brenton didn’t pull away, and instead leaned into the impact using the counterforce to push the sword back, as his own blade dived in for a quick sharp jab.

  His opponent leaned towards the side of the buckler and away from Brenton’s sword to get enough space, causing the jab to hit nothing but air.

  Aha! An opportunity!

  The foe’s body was awkwardly positioned, and Brenton took this opportunity to go for a side sweep, but by now the opponent had brought his longsword back to block.

  However, this was what Brenton was aiming for. He used his legs pushing against the grass to create as much power as he could and gave his opponent a direct punch in the gut.

  His opponent reeled back, but before giving Brenton a chance to follow up, activated his ability.

  FWOSH

  Fire bellowed from his mouth, but the gut punch had made it hard for him to breath in enough air to create a more powerful flame. Yet, Brenton was still forced to abort all his subsequent attacks and backstep to create some distance.

  “Fire powers, huh? You’re just someone still sucking on their mothers teat.”

  Brenton mocked his opponent, trying to provoke him into making a mistake.

  “You know nothing, you dirty farmboy.”

  His opponent replied with a scowl.

  He had said farmboy with such disgust that it immediately struck a nerve, Brenton immediately charged in once again and rained down a flurry of strikes.

  CLINK! CLANK! CLANG!

  Each contact produced a loud sharp noise.

  “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE CALLING A FARMBOY!”

  The noises increased in frequency, as Brenton raised the frequency and intensity of his attacks to his limit.

  Until…

  SWISH!

  The sideswing hit empty air, as his opponent used this opportunity to counterattack with a swing of his own, and the longsword crashed down.

  THUD!

  Brenton’s left forearm fractured as he relied on his buckler once more to block the strike.

  Yet this time, instead of it being an impact, his opponent continued pressing down the weight into his arm, leaving Brenton no opportunity to make a quick retreat as he did earlier.

  His opponent took a deep breath, now able to use the full power of his core ability.

  FWOSHHHHHHH

  Scorching heat rushed out of his mouth once again as Brenton took it head on.

  Hot.

  So fucking hot.

  The skin on his face started bubbling, as the smell of singed hair and smoldering skin filled his nostrils. He tried to scream, but the air had been sucked up right out of his lungs to further fuel the flame ravaging his face.

  He tried pulling back his overextended sword for a counterattack, but he was slow. In the immense pain of burning alive, it was difficult to focus on anything else.

  His opponent easily side stepped it as he continued breathing, now angling his mouth to burn the rest of Brenton’s body.

  Brenton’s face had already been charred black, and now the rest of his body was getting the same treatment.

  It’s so painful.

  The moment he’s out of juice I’m gonna rip apart this dipshit’s insides.

  But I need to hold out just a bit longer.

  FUCK IT BURNS.

  “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

  Brenton let out a cry of pain as a desperate attempt to reclaim the air in his lungs. As the fire tore through his chest and arms, his armor melted into his flesh.

  The grass at his feet burned up, slowly spreading across the battleground as the once lush green field transformed into brown, dry and brittle cinders.

  Soon, the rest of his clothes burned away as well and all that could be seen was a charred figure with no resemblance to Brenton stumbling around holding a sword, just one step away from death.

  His opponent wiped the sweat off his face, finally out of Energy.

  Defeating somebody who had spat on his name felt good.

  “The world is a cleaner place now.”

  He mocked the charred figure, before slumping down, hands on his knees as he fought to catch his breath, heaving in the reek of burning flesh and metal.

  Not only did this ability use up his Energy, it also put a huge strain on his lungs.

  Suddenly, a massive burst of aura surged in front of him.

  Having no Energy and completely depleted, he was overwhelmed by the sheer power, as he stumbled back and fell on his behind, the cinders searing lightly into his clothes.

  His eyes opened in disbelief at the sight in front of him. He didn’t see charred skin, nor the fused metal and skin he had expected. Instead, in front of him stood a grinning, naked man with raw, pink skin, his sword already mid arc.

  Before he could figure out what was happening, the world started spinning all around him in complete silence.

  Didn’t I already win?

  That was his final thought.

  Thump.

  The head hit the ground with a dull thud, tumbling across the burnt field before coming to a rest, facing the sky.

  “Fuck! I gave him an easy end!”

  Brenton stood straight, with no signs of any of the torture he had just endured.

  Only able to use his ability once, pulling the trigger was always a risk. His affinity softened the weakness a little.

  I’ve never pushed my ability this far though.

  Brenton knew he was outclassed from the first few exchanges. While his opponent had been cautiously trading blows with him, considering the different abilities Brenton may have had, Brenton was going all out from the start.

  And even then, they were equally matched, not to mention Brenton didn’t have an offensive ability.

  The only time he had ever beaten Elena in a duel is when he pulled a cheap trick on her, catching her off guard, so he figured the only way to beat this superior opponent was to let them exhaust their Energy and catch them by surprise.

  However, with Brenton’s body now fully recovered, the immense pain he had grit through was now a memory, but the psychological phantom of the fire remained. Burning alive was just far too agonizing.

  He brushed his hands through his hair and rubbed his own skin, appreciating what he had once taken for granted.

  He looked down, at his stark naked body. His buckler had burned to a crisp, and his sword's handle was now difficult to grasp. Even his compasses weren’t spared.

  “Hmmm.”

  He looked at the headless body lying amid the scorched thatch. Between the expensive, high-collared tunic, now ruined by a spray of gore, and the glint of the shiny longsword nearby, an idea began to take root.