The festival was in full bloom. Adults enjoyed the huge pavilions and tents set up all around, containing stands selling beverages, warm food, and music from various bands. Kids had their corner to enjoy activities, snacks, and the playground. Many witnessed the competition from screens where the announcer would constantly tell about the most exciting turnarounds, while some enjoyed the festival’s treats without caring about the actual event. The profits were kept high by volunteer work and raised prices, which, while not completely honest, were ignored by most of the attendees. The lights and the sounds could be heard across the village, making some of the earlier sleepers and respecters of silence somewhat uneasy.

Norman had been looking at the moving lights very carefully for a while, but just as he thought that he had seen something, his head turned around as the announcer’s voice echoed through the forest with continuing excitement.

“What’s this? My superiors had informed me that our sponsor would sadly be too busy tonight and could not attend directly, yet we have now received new information that he has arrived! Oh? And he is willing to give a speech to the competitors! We will broadcast this on the forest microphones as well. Let’s give a round of applause for the man we can thank for this event, Daniel Medrawd!” The announcer cheered.

The contestants could hear the crowd cheering, only silenced by the rough voice tapping the microphone. A dark figure had just gotten off his ride and was offered a microphone, which he would turn on to answer, though with little effort.

“Thank you, Markus.”

Orel felt a spike of cold run through his body. An uncomfortable jolt ran from his head to his toes as he heard those words as if silent lighting had struck him. The voice echoed like an ominous bell, instilling anxiety in most listening. Orel could only turn his head to Norman and usher a few words.

“It’s him.”

Norman tried to act stalwart but could not but fear the voice. At the same time, he began figuring out what this all was about. The puzzle pieces started falling together, though the picture was far from pretty.

The man walked silently forward towards the center stage while his subordinates prepared seats for him. He sat down, not bothering to look at the audience.

“I am glad to be here. This festival has been a long project of mine. However, this wouldn’t be anything without these brave contestants we have here today. It is surely fascinating to see such tenacity to come back here after these years. I almost thought I would not see all of you here today. We even have some new arrivals on the scene. Truly, I would like to know your reason for coming here. That, of course, is a matter for after the contest. Remember that winning is not the main reason, but a fair fight, and that everyone has their share of fun. Good hunting. That is all.”

“Ummm, that was Daniel Medrawd, everyone! Now, let’s each continue the festival!” The announcer continued awkwardly.

“It’s him,” Norman said. “No doubt of it,”

“So they were behind all of this,” Andras said.

“They came here to bring back the event.” Norman figured it out.

“But why? Did they want to make clean money out of this?” Orel asked.

“It’s quite generous to give half of the profits to the winner unless...”

“Unless what?” Andras asked.

“They are not going to let anyone claim that money,”

“So, this is rigged.” Andras couldn’t stand foul play.

“But how are they going to do that?” Orel asked.

“I have two theories. Either they are letting someone of their win the contest, or that they use dirty measures to make sure no one wins.”

“Then what do we do?” Orel asked.

Norman smiled.

“They seem to be already expecting us, so let’s give them a run for their money.”

“So, can I go?” Andras smiled.

“Go, but not all out. First and foremost, you should scout and then go out if we need a distraction.” Norman reminded.

Andras slid down the slope to the continuing forest down below.

“Are you going to let him wreak havoc?” Orel was unsure of Norman’s plan.

“I said not to go all out.” Norman took a sip of coffee. “He’s just going to have some fun.”

“So, what are we going to do meanwhile. I presume the plan has changed?” Orel asked.

“You see all those lights down there?” Norman pointed.

Orel came closer to the edge to see better.

“Yes, many flashlights and sorts,” Orel noticed.

“But not all of them are contestants.” Norman swung his finger.

Orel looked around and saw much more freely moving spheres, where he got what Norman was trying to tell him. The same lights were again roaming around. It was just as he had remembered happening to them when they were leaving the village.

“They are doing the same trick as they did last time.” Orel realized.

“Yes. They are probably using those balls of light to look for the fox themselves.”

“So, are we going after the mage?”

“Exactly. If my guess is correct, the other one you saw with that Daniel fellow is probably stationary somewhere around the area using that spell to look around.”

“Should I go after him?” Orel asked.

“Alright, but don’t be reckless. They are professionals. Here, take this.” Norman threw a walkie-talkie.

“Where did you get this? Weren’t we checked before entering?”

“A good magician always has some aces up his sleeve. Now go. I’ll be on the other end, giving advice and looking from here. I gave Andras one too, but I’m not sure if he knows how to use it.”

“Alright. I’ll head down.” Orel tucked the radiophone into his pocket.

“Be safe out there.”

Orel went down and started looking around. There wasn’t anyone nearby, so he tried to speak into his radio without anyone seeing it.

“Where should I go, Norman?”

Norman picked up his radio.

“There seems to be a clearing a couple of kilometers northeast of you. You should check if there’s something there.”

“Alright,” Orel ended the call.

He started running in the direction while watching out for branches and other people. The terrain was hard to maneuver, meaning that even Orel, who was quite fit for his age, had to conserve himself. Norman estimated that it should only take Orel around ten to fifteen minutes to get there, depending on if anything happens. Next, he turned over to see Andras going wild in the forest. It was not sure, but Norman was hopeful that there would not be any forest fires.

Even if it seemed like it, Andras was not there to bring chaos. He was purposely bringing some of the competition and the eyes of the Magistrate people to him. He could have done nothing else to raise more attention, perhaps if he wore pink.

Some nearby hunters noticed him running like a mad man. He passed them without further interruption.

“Whos that grey onesie-wearing guy?” One of them asked.

“I think I saw him at the registration, but why is he running around like that?”

Andras remembered his instruction and looked for anything suspicious, mostly the lights. It didn’t take long for him to see some in the distance. He came closer to them, where he took out the radio and thought back about what Norman had said about using it.

“So, I press this and hold that. Then I put it next to my ear...” Andras muttered. “Ummm, Norman? I found the lights, and they’re right there.”

“Andras? Why did you call me?” Orel asked.

“Orel? Oh, sorry. Can you relay that back to Norman?”

“Sigh, alright.” Orel changed channels. “Norman, Andras found some lights.”

“Ok. Tell Andras to follow them.” Norman instructed.

“Alright.” Orel changed the channel.

Andras paid a close eye to the lights roaming around, floating above the ground at the height of a man. Their light was similar to a flashlight, yet their form was an indistinct ball of light. There weren’t many, and those few kept large distances between each other. They acted as hunters, staying far away from any honest person not to be recognized.

After observing them for a while, Andras got a call.

“What are they exactly doing, Andras?” Norman asked.

Andras quickly took the radio out. “Umm, they seem to roam around. They don’t react that much to anything. From what I’ve seen, a few groups of them seem to be scattered here. I’d say around two dozen of them in groups of three or four.”

“I see. Orel will disable the user, so be observant of changes.”

“Also, there is this one group that seems odd,”

“What do you mean?” Norman needed to know every detail.

“Some of them seem to be circling this one lone fellow from a distance. I don’t think he has noticed yet.”

“Can you give any details of what he looks like?”

“I can’t tell from the fur coat and some white cloth covering his face, but I didn’t see him at the start. He’s strolling through the forest in a straight line. I think I see something strapped to his back, but I can’t make out what it is.” Andras explained the best he could. “Wait, something is happening,”

The lights suddenly formed around the man, making him in the middle of the spotlight. Shadows from the nearby trees lined towards him, circling a safe distance away. The man had stopped. A figure zoomed in on him over the shade. The man dodged the strike that was aiming for his neck. When he turned, the figure had disappeared. Another dark form approached from behind him. The man removed the object from his back. The weapon was long, held in two hands with a curved tip at the end, and covered in a cloth. The man rotated it just in time to strike his opponent. The swift swing cut the shape in half, yet it swiftly dissipated afterward. The man did not falter to this sight. Instead, he prepared as several figures sprinted and jumped from all over for the coming onslaught. With them, they had dark blades and their ragged, dark mantles. The man raised his palm towards the sky.

The night was dark with clouds, yet something peculiar happened. Lightning struck from between the clouds—a great flash of light followed by roaring thunder. The roaring sound echoed throughout the forest, and the blue arc flashed brightly.

“What the hell just happened, Andras?!” Norman couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Damn! Lighting just struck the man! Good thing I was far away.”

The speakers went off.“Everyone, please remain calm. We are not sure what just happened, but some of our cameras are offline for the moment! We are trying to fix the problem!”

“A perfect opportunity.” A sinister voice said.

Norman felt sheer anguish as he started hearing pained screams from below. He realized that some contestants were ready to play dirty to win. Whoever was down there did not seem bothered by any of it and took out all the competition. Desperation can smear blood over morals and taint them with regret afterward, though it depends on whether the person thinks what he committed is justified.

After regaining his senses, Andras saw the man, who was still miraculously alright, but all the orbs and shadows around him were gone. For a moment, Andras got a selfish idea.

It was a curious sight, but the man had no time to enjoy it. He was about to lower his weapon before Andras stepped in.

“Quite a show you gave me. Is striking thunder all you do?” Andras asked.

The man did not answer; instead, he turned away and kept walking, resting his weapon over his shoulder. Andras was displeased by the act.

“Hey, could you show it to me again?” Andras started following the man.

After some more silence, the man spoke with a hoarse voice.

“I only seek to conquer myself.”

“Playing mysterious, are you? Can you give me your name at least?”

“Introduction calls for respect,” The man continued walking. "What I respect is to speak only when it holds meaning."

“If not with words, then how about we talk with our fists?” Andras clenched his fists.

“A fool would approach an armed man with his fists.”

“I can punch just fine,” Andras smirked.

“Do you wish to vanish from this realm?”

“Are you afraid if that would be you?”

“I do not hold anger, but I will grant a request, even if it is death.”

The man slowly turned to face Andras. He stripped off the cloth from his weapon, revealing a long polearm similar to a glaive he gripped with band-aided arms. Andras could not make anything out of the man’s face, except the white cloth over his head from underneath peeked a pair of slanted eyes. The brown coat was strapped shut tight, revealing no clothes underneath except his pale, slack pants reaching his knees where long socks covered the feet that rested on a pair of wooden sandals.

“What is the reason to hide your face?” Andras asked.

“I do apologize. It is both cold, and my face is not a pleasure to the eye.”

“A fair reason,”

“Are you sure you wish for death?” The man asked.

“There is no better thrill than a good fight.”

“Hmph, there is no quenching of a warrior’s passion. Tell me your name before I cut you!”

“I am Andras, a man who has forgotten his past, and I challenge you to a duel!”

The man struck the bottom of his weapon to the ground before announcing himself.

“And I, the apostle of thunder, Kubo Isao of the Raikou temple, shall bring about the end you seek!”

“Kubo Isao? What a weird name.”

“I would ask you the same, but a battle is not done with words. I hope for an honorable duel.” Isao took an imposing stance with his weapon.

“This is getting interesting!” Andras slammed his fists together.

Andras observed the polearm as he approached, ensuring he would not accidentally step inside its range. Isao stood in his pose while keeping himself towards Andras. Both stared at each other, measuring out which one would attack first. Seeing the fire lit in his eyes, Isao prepared that Andras would bounce. His intuition would prove correct.

Andras clenched his fist as he rushed forwards. Isao had no mercy swinging his blade to cut his opponent’s hand. However, Isao pulled his weapon back. He dodged Andras’ attack just in time. Andras would have gripped the pole from him, even if it meant being hit. For some reason, Isao could feel danger when near him.

Isao was now wary of Andras and his fists. The monk would not have any trouble landing a strike, but Isao feared that he would not emerge unscathed. It was as if Andras had no fear of death. Isao had his own goals and would not let a battle with a stranger be the end of his journey.

Andras made quick jabs that forced Isao to dodge and deflect. It would be too risky to try and attack; instead, Isao would wait until Andras tired himself out. Andras felt a new sensation of excitement that could only be felt in a battle. The glee in Andras’ eyes made Isao tense up. Andras saw his opportunity rise.

He swung his fist wide from the side. It was far too slow to hit, yet something felt off. Isao stepped back. As he did, a strange wave of heat passed him like a flaming torch. Andras was fuming vapor like a hot spring. The man Isao was fighting was no ordinary man. Isao was right, but he now wished he was not. Isao could see the snow melting around Andras’ feet in mere seconds.

Isao made quick stabs at Andras. Whatever he was doing was anything but good. Andras could barely dodge the repeating attacks by backing down. Isao had trained with this weapon for many years, making it quite deadly in his hands. With a single silent step forward, Isao stretched his arms at the end of his strike. Even though showing prowess, Andras was not familiar with fighting, only standing his ground with instincts and reflexes. It would not help with Isao’s finishing move. Isao made the pole circle around with the blade obscured in the movement. The motion made predicting his next strike hard and dodging near impossible, even for an experienced fighter. It happened in an instant. The blade sunk into Andras’ flesh, making him fall limb. Isao pulled the blade out, letting the body fall to a praying position before swiftly whiffing the blood off from the edge. He made a prayer and walked towards the cloth to conceal his weapon before leaving.

"Your thoughts are muddy, and your recklessness holds no bounds. You will never hope to reach the truth that way." Isao said.

Yet, when he had only taken a few steps, Isao sensed immense heat from behind him. Looking back could be seen as a sight to behold. Not only did it melt the snow in a large area around the body into puddles of water that soon started bubbling, but the blood itself, bleeding to the ground, burst into flames like gasoline. The body stood still for a while, with large amounts of vapor pouring out from the skin’s surface and openings in the body. The dark hair drooping down rose as a great pillar of fire. Andras’ head started tilting. His hands gripped, and the legs stood up. Isao was petrified as if he was witnessing a possession. The heat was significant enough to make Isao lose the fur coat. Underneath were vibrant saffron yellow robes and large prayer beads around his neck. He kept his white hood on to save his face from the immense heat, though the effort only helped slightly.

Andras stood up with a sinister smile that of a devil. Isao was right that what he faced was not an ordinary man, but now he had to come to face with the truth. While Andras’ body was covered in flames and had burned most of his clothes, the grey fire-resistant overalls withstood the heat and encapsulated the living inferno. His sleeves fumed out flames while a collar of fire emerged from the neckline.

“What type of devil are you?” Isao stepped back.

Andras opened his mouth, where a burst of steam escaped.

“I do not know what I am, but what I know is that my heart is not like any other heart. It will devour me, but the sun will have to make due for now.” Andras’ smile disappeared.

“Only a fool would curse his soul.”

“In the ned, I will atone for my sins. This vile spell, yes, I remember. I called it Quiet Ember.”

“I shall cast you to the afterlife, be you a devil or a man. That is my duty and obligation.” Isao formed a praying gesture.

“Then give it your all. I won’t last too long, and neither will you.” Andras gestured for Isao to bring it on.

Isao performed a series of gestures before touching his blade with a single finger. With that touch and release, a current coursed through the metal so that blue sparks were hitting nearby trees and setting some of them on fire. Lightning that intense could kill with a single zap, but Isao was not bothered by any of it.

The field was on fire. The heat from Andras caused flames to erupt on his side, while the constant release of electricity sparkled with a bright blue light on Isao’s side. The two colors clashed, battling over supremacy. As both men lunged forward, they put their everything behind it, be it determination or magic, meaning that only one would stand afterward. It was a match to behold.

Isao had ascended his lighting to another form of matter through training and concentration. The convex edge of the Naginata crackled with lighting striking the air until the light turned purple. Isao had to keep his mind clear, as he knew there were no second chances if he missed. It was an all-out attack, after all.

Andras clenched his fist tightly. The veins on his hand surfaced like giant snakes under his skin. He charged the fist with fire and heat enough to combust even the fire-resistant sleeve of the overalls. The heat gathered to one singularity and released like an erupting volcano.

Animals with keen senses had fled the scene a moment prior. Those watching from the shadows closed their eyes instinctively and looked away. The winner would be the only one able to tell what happened. Others would be either blind, deaf, or dead.

“Rising spire! “Andras’ flames spiraled around his arm towards his fist.

“Radiant purple!” Isao swung his weapon down, and the wooden rod bent like a small branch.

The point of impact resulted in a flash of light brighter than any star in the sky. A split-second wave of energy erupted, causing the weakest rooted trees to fall over like matchsticks, while bolts of lightning channeling from the ball of plasma split the trees left standing. Simultaneously, a flaming spire rose to the dark sky, piercing the clouds. The ground trembled around them, reverting the landscape to a barren field as it grumbled. The two fighters created an armageddon in that spot in a storm of fire and lighting. It was a true clash and possibly one of the enormous discharges of magic a mortal could ever achieve. Those who had no idea what was happening, as well as those aware of it, were brought equally wordless by sight. Norman was perhaps the closest encounter with the incident. He had run to Andras, who hadn’t responded to his radio, which had already melted down. His face turned pale upon the flash of light and the sonic boom, not only from the destruction Andras had caused but also from his opponent's power. After the roar had passed through, a silence ensued throughout the forest. A sudden sense of danger had left everyone still. All felt hopelessness alongside fear, a genuine emotion born from chaos.