Gerald stood in the arena with an emotionless face and a glaive in his hand. With a straight back and a stoic appearance, his whole demeanor was changed. Nobody could read his thoughts from that stone-cold look and deadpan eyes.

The sudden deviation in his action was extremely odd and eye-catching, and it left many curious as to what was going to happen next.

Gerald released all his magical enhancements except defense. He slowly cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders in preparation for a fight.

And then he waited.

The two Sand Walkers looked at each other and with minimal changes in facial expressions, they decided on a course of action.

As they attacked, the expectation was that something would be different. However, as time went on, the results were clear. Gerald had absolutely no chance of blocking or deflecting their assault as they beat on him with their weapons and fists.

The only thing he did was to do his best to avoid or block despite being unable to do so. However, as seconds turned into minutes, the two Wind Walkers came to realize that despite still having the upper hand, it was getting more difficult to land a strike.

Some tricks they used to slip past his guard simply didn't work anymore. Or even if they did, much more effort was required to achieve the same result. Slowly but surely, Gerald was learning their patterns.

Over the course of millions of years, human brains have evolved greatly, distinguishing them from the rest of the animal kingdom. However, two things stood tall among the rest. Pattern recognition, and future prediction.

Of course, they weren't perfect, far from it. The former became, in fact, so good at finding patterns, that connections were made even when there weren't any.

And the other one, predicting the future with various simulations based on the limited knowledge and information we get of the world around us, allowed mankind to advance through the ages and think in abstractions that allowed him to ask the elusive question: "What if…?"

Patterns… Everything has a pattern. The entire universe moves according to the laws of nature, and those can be observed, measured, and understood.

However, back on a more familiar scale, patterns in a style of combat… When Gerald first clashed with the two Sand Walkers, he didn't understand them, their patterns. Their attacks seemed arbitrary, chaotic, and random… No matter what word was used to describe them, it would probably fit.

But then, after tossing his emotions aside, his eyes were finally opened and he could see. The subtle differences in body posture, hand and leg movements, the way they would hold their breath just before a strike…

It all became clear to him. That didn't mean he could react to it, not at all. They have trained in this style of fighting for years, while he was just figuring it out. He had to consciously move his body while they used trained muscle memory. He was at a disadvantage. He had no chance.

But that didn't stop him from fighting back, even if it was futile.

What a clear mind did for him was the exact opposite of what he did to his opponents. Now they were the ones becoming increasingly frustrated and angry, the kind of anger that made them sloppy and uncoordinated.

Their mistakes increased and he made sure to punish them. Suddenly he went from the defensive onto the offensive. He would dodge the blades as if they weren't even there. He would block and deflect their kicks before they were even in full swing, almost as if he knew they were coming.

The difference was so extreme that some in the audience thought they were dreaming and had to pinch their neighbor to make sure it was real.

But the reality was simple. Gerald simply figured out their patterns and acted accordingly. Well, that and the fact that the two guys were becoming exhausted and out of breath after battling for so long.

They slowed down considerably since they began, but the change was gradual so nobody even noticed.

"Just you wait, I'll get you now!"

Gerald was also becoming tired, so he quickly took a few Stamina potions and began drinking. But, oh no, two vials slipped his grasp when he failed to dodge a strike aimed at the hand holding them! What a tragedy! It totally wasn't on purpose!

And as if that wasn't enough, they didn't break as they fell into the soft soil and rolled over to his enemies' feet!

It totally wasn't planned, not at all!

The Sand Walkers quickly picked them up after noticing Gerald's panicked expression and anxiety.

"H-hey! Give that back!" He demanded in a fluster, going so far as to lunge forward in an attempt to snatch them back.

Of course, his wishes weren't granted. The nomad fellas quickly drank the potion, one each.

Immediately after they did so, Gerald stopped his clowning around. He took a step back and finished his drink, before discarding the vial.

"Feeling better?" He teased, a thin smile forming on his lips. "You should be able to fight for real now."

His words confused many, the two Wind Walkers included, however, Dug and his company knew all too well what those potions were.

"Oh, shit! He just gave them Stamina Potions!"

"The same thing we had?"

"Yup…"

They could only speculate why he did what he did. Some onlookers wanted to interfere with the fight, but with a flick of a hand, they were pushed back by Gerald's Wind magic. A stern look from him and they obediently stepped back in line.

He didn't need help. He needed training. Harsh and stimulating training!

***

Punches were exchanged, blades clashed, and kicks were delivered with deadly accuracy.

Gerald and the two Sand Walkers fought like mad dogs while the audience watched.

Now that they all had limitless energy, the intensity of battle reached its peak. And despite being completely out of his element, Gerald was greatly enjoying the beating he was currently receiving.

Some things were best learned if they could be experienced first-hand. And he needed to learn how to fight without magic because you never know when that skill might be needed.

And they had some pretty cool-looking moves also. They were so agile and fast when striking, moving like the wind. Perhaps learning that was more of a motivation for him.

But as time went on, the people around became bored and started chatting and taking care of their own things.

Wounded had to be taken care of, fires had to be put out, and the corpses had to be removed to prevent any diseases from spreading in the canyon.

Dug and his group also distanced themselves from the three crazy men fighting. It seemed that even after breaking the encirclement, the two nomads didn't have any plans of escaping. They were either going to take Gerald down, or die trying! That was their conviction. And now that they could fight in their peak form, that was what they did.

"Dug?" A man approached the group. He was dressed in combat attire, however, the clothes underneath were clearly quite expensive, even if they were now covered with blood, dust, and sand.

"Rolf?" Dug recognized him at a glance. "Oh man, am I glad to see you! You are still well and in good health, I hope?" He enthusiastically shook the man's hand and pointed at his group. "Come, let me introduce you to my gang! You would not believe what we went through just to get here…"

Rolf was one of the people that made the Wailing Canyon their home. He was also the one from which Dug reserved the mounts for travel. He spent good money on them in advance and it would be a real tragedy if the owner suddenly died.

Calls of exotic birds were heard amid the sounds of flowing water as they chatted merrily and had a drink to celebrate, and finalize the deal.

Dug placed a pouch bag of coins on the table, and after confirming the correct amount, the two men shook hands once more.

"Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you!" Rolf smiled. "My people will show you the way to the stables. Your mounts should be ready in an hour."

"Thank you!" Dug happily nodded. A few servants and workers dressed in combat attire that were always just a few steps behind Rolf made their presence known and gestured them to follow.

"Oh yeah, by the way…" Rolf called after them just as they were leaving. "How did you get past the army on the surface? Was it a hard battle? I will talk with the heads of other families to organize a counterattack."

Dug and the rest of his group looked at him sideways, their confusion unmistakable.

"Army? What army? There was nobody there." Gustav said without thinking. "I thought everybody was in the canyon?"

Rolf became pale like a chunk of white limestone. All blood drained from his face as he realized the implication of what he just heard.

"Oh, mother…" He broke into a sprint and ran away, his servants and guards barely keeping pace.

Then they heard the distinctive call of a bird again.

"Oh, can this bird shut up already?! I've been hearing it since we entered the canyon!" One of the warriors shook his fist towards the origin of the call, which was difficult since the echo amplified and scattered the sound.

That's when Dug also realized something that bugged him for a while. "This bird, no wonder… No wonder I couldn't figure out which bird it belonged to!" That's because, despite being quite knowledgeable, the sound of this bird simply didn't belong in the Great Desert!

"It's an ambush! We've been tricked!"

Suddenly a body fell from the sky, splattering on the ground. Despite the now unrecognizable features, the victim was quickly determined to be one of the guards that went back to the surface to set things straight.

The assumption they all had that the Sand Walkers on top have all been taken care of couldn't have been more wrong.

And now they were all trapped once more, with the enemy just waiting for them to peek out of their holes to cut off their heads.

Rolf already told the news that now spread like wildfire. All kinds of rumors immediately took root. Some even began speculating the newcomers might be working with the nomadic tribes to take over the Wailing Canyon.

But luckily, after some heated discussions, and exchange of insults, rationality prevailed. Now was not the time to be making more enemies.

The commotion also disrupted Gerald and the two Sand Walkers, who now showed weird grins on their faces. One of them suddenly stopped fighting and started producing bird-like calls.

Soon they could hear replies coming from up high, after which the sounds of explosions shook the canyon.

"Watch out!" People scattered in all directions as massive boulders and pieces of shattered rock started raining down. The bloody fools blew up a side of the canyon!

Thousands of tons of orange rock shattered upon impact, creating small craters and shooting shrapnel everywhere.

People shrieked as their bodies were lacerated and pierced by stones, some of them being so unlucky to get buried beneath the rubble.

Everybody was running for cover. The walls of the canyon had homes carved into them, but getting inside now meant almost certain death. Like a waterfall, the stone was raining down on the lives below.

The two Sand Walkers, having accepted their fate, jumped on Gerald, held him tightly, and stopped him from moving, all to assure his demise.

The rocks were falling all around them, and any time now, they too would be buried. Or so they thought.

The two men held him without letting go and closed their eyes while they waited for death. The only problem… Soon the rumbling of rock stopped and they were still alive.

"Oh? Scared of a few pebbles?" They heard Gerald's voice mocking them. Opening their eyes they found themselves in a perfect circle, devoid of any stones. All around them lay shattered boulders and rocks, only a circle with a radius of two meters was completely clear.

"What? You didn't seriously think you could take me out with such a pathetic display, right?" Gerald mocked again, a disdainful smirk growing on his face. "I might be tired, but deflecting a few rocks is nothing special." He then gripped the two Sand Walkers by the throat and lifted them up as if they weighed nothing.

His vice-like grip made them bulge their eyes and struggle for breath as they clawed at his hands. It was all in vain.

His grip was like one of a hydraulic press, though on the weaker side of the spectrum. He then slammed them on the ground while Mana started gathering in his palms.

Leaning over, he whispered a single sentence.

"Game over."

Then came an explosion.

BOOM!