Rowan was watching all this unfold, and to be honest kinda panicked. He considered putting a spike inside the box. The spike formed, a narrow and slender thing made of lead. Rowan sighed, looking down at Allen. "I am leagues above you, and yet when I look down I feel the urge to cry." Feeling a desire for mercy, he simply broke the spike into a group of small hand-sized fists made of lead. He started to hail them down one by one, the eight fists all hailing down. His box remained stationary, and he just waited for results.