The process of an end

Rain and Jori bumped their fists, and then they left the arena. While the match didn't last that long, it was the first where a lot of blood had been shed, and it was actually the longest so far. Since they were friends as well, there were no ill feelings left. Only the desire to improve to make sure that the result would be different in a month if they had the chance to fight again.

"Seriously, what did you do?" Jori asked.

"As if I would explain my trump card to win this tournament," Rain said. "I need to win in order to make sure that I won't be forced to work to death making relics."

"Of all things he could have found motivation in…" Jori said and then sighed. "Still, I guess that is just like you. By the way, how did you move your arm when they are still broken?"

"This is twenty percent luck. Thirty percent skill. Fifty percent concentrated power of will," Rain said. "It hurts a bit, though."