From here on out, it was all up to Blusterer. The Flinter imbued his crossbow with the flames of his Skill. This was his first time trying this. Usually he unleashed his Skill relying on power alone, with his high incendiary output making up for his careless aim. Allies were often caught up in the blast, which had prevented Blusterer from rising through the ranks quickly. His position in the Project was at the bottom of the staff class.
The hero Diros, of the swift arrow, loosed his arrows in succession with such speed that the mortal eye could not follow them, intercepting Whitehead’s charge. Whitehead held his shield and spear out in front of him and forced his way forward. With each arrow, his shield, his spear, and his chain mail cloak were worn away. This was a reckless charge, ill-suiting a man as seasoned as him.
“My name is Whitehead! One of the eagle’s wings! The lighthouse keeper who sends ships off to sea! I am Whitehead, fated to die!”
Under the cover of the rain of arrows that beat against Whitehead’s shield, the hero Diros mixed in an arrow with different characteristics. With repeated bursts of flames, it autonomously changed its own trajectory, circling around the old veteran and flying at him from behind. Whitehead, who already had his hands full with the torrent of arrows coming from in front of him, failed to notice it.
“Not on my watch.” The crossbow bolt had already been fired. The bolt, propelled forward by pyrokinesis, made contact with Diros’s arrow in a burst of sound that split the air apart. The hero’s arrow was shattered. Then came a second bolt, flying over Whitehead’s shoulder, again with additional thrust thanks to Blusterer’s pyrokinesis.
Diros reacted swiftly. He nocked another arrow of flames and drew it back so far it looked like the bowstring might snap. His treasured bow, carved from the bones of a great serpent, withstood the force. With a roar, his lethal arrow was loosed!
With mechanical accuracy, the hero’s arrow matched its trajectory with Blusterer’s bolt, crashing into it head-on—a recreation of his duel with Rick. However, this time...it was Diros’s arrow that shattered. The bolt, with the raging pyrokinetic flames condensed around it, consumed even the hero’s arrow and continued flying without even losing speed.
But Diros was not the sort of hero to flinch under these circumstances. Diros fired a second arrow, then a third in quick succession, striking Blusterer’s bolt head-on with unwavering precision. Each one was wreathed in the flames of Prodotis’s Skill, roaring mercilessly like the breath of a dragon.
Blusterer’s flaming bolt finally arrived right in front of Diros. Diros nocked four arrows at once, dropped his stance until half his body lay on the ground, and waited, his bow drawn with unnatural strength. The hero then unleashed that force—the string of his legendary bow, woven from a dragon’s beard, groaned and started to fray. An explosion erupted on the surface of Krios in a blinding flash of light. When the light had died down, the name of the man who stood there was...one of three warriors who, while enraged by the cowardly tactics of Haos, King of Terea, in the Krios campaign, had died a hero’s death. It was said that each time he drew his bow, the arrow loosed ran through ten men, shattering the Terean battle lines. He was the archer-saint, Diros of the swift arrow.
The hero smiled. Through his resurrection in the present day, he—like Falaina and Achtida—had lost the power of speech, but the meaning of his smile was clear. Bring on the next battle. Bring on the next glory. The legend will now continue once again—
“Look down. You’ve lost,” spat Blusterer.
The hero looked down at his body. He was pierced by Blusterer’s crossbow bolt. It had entered through his back, the tip emerging through his belly. It still glowed with the light of Blusterer’s Skill. “Did you forget? That was the first arrow. I controlled it with my pyro, and hit you from behind... Yeah, that’s right! I stole that idea from you. You damn moron...!” Tears rolled down Blusterer’s face. Diros tried to pull out the crossbow bolt, which had pierced his bronze skin, but hadn’t passed all the way through, remaining lodged in his body. The light flickering around it unsettled him.
Blusterer’s Skill was still active.
“You know, my problem always was that my Skill had too much power and I couldn’t regulate it at all... But that no longer matters. I shoved everything I had into that arrow. Rick landed that blow for me. That guy was really talented. I couldn’t use my Skill this well in my last body...but the moment I took over his body, I was able to...use it so well... Ah, damn it!” Blusterer wiped the tears from his eyes, then looked up. Diros had given up on pulling out the stuck crossbow bolt, and with the intention of at least taking Blusterer with him, he had readied his final arrow.
“That’s enough—fly away now!” Blusterer said. The hero drew his bow. The light around the bolt Blusterer had stuck in him reached a critical point and detonated. The hero’s bow could not withstand this final draw—the dragon’s filament snapped, and the arrow clattered to the ground.
Diros died, blown away without a trace.