Axel reached into the barrel, pulled out an arrow, and set it against the string. Dragging the bowstring back with steady, iron tension, he aimed the arrow high into the overcast sky.
As the string hit its absolute limit, the pale white stripes running across his grey skin began to pulse violently, glowing in harmony with the Symbol of (Desperatio) etched into his chest.
Tendrils of dark flames flared up from his fingers, wrapping around the arrow shaft until it resembled a lance of black fire.
SHING!
He released the string. The arrow tore upward into the air with a piercing screech that rattled the atmosphere.
Without pausing for a fraction of a second, Axel reached back, grabbed another arrow, pulled, and fired. His movements turned into a blur of fluid precision, drawing and releasing in rapid succession.
