Chapter 192

Chapter 193. The Essence of Archery (3)

The arrows on the table were more refined than the bow.

“This is called the ‘Compressed Arrow.’ There are two versions: one with the length halved and another with the length reduced to a third. You probably already know the difference without me explaining.”

“It’s about durability, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Theoretically, we could reduce the length to a fifth, but at that point, the arrow’s durability would drop to the level of being disposable. It’s possible with enough money and time, but… it would be a massive waste of resources.”

“For now, the double-compressed version seems the most efficient.”

“The downside is that, because of its shape, we need to make a separate quiver for it.”

Vulkanus immediately moved on to a demonstration. Once again, he handed the arrow to the knight.

The knight grabbed the fletching and pulled. The arrow extended, becoming a normal-sized arrow.

“The fletching is made of flexible yet durable Goblin Steel.”

“Using something that expensive for a compromise? Impressive.”

“Bird feathers could also work. But since we designed it for easier storage, metal was the better choice.”

Vulkanus signaled the knight with a glance. This time, the knight loaded the compressed arrow onto a regular bow and fired.

Just like before, the arrow was aimed at targets at 50 meters, 100 meters, and 300 meters. Unlike the dual bow, the arrows hit almost dead center.

Vulkanus showed the compressed arrow retrieved by a soldier and explained, “The arrowhead is shaped like an awl to maximize penetration, but it’s also designed for easier storage.”

“You’re really obsessed with storage, huh?”

Taragon, who had been quietly listening, couldn’t resist chiming in.

“Of course, I am. It’s our lifeline in Sephira.”

Contrary to Taragon’s expectations, Vulkanus didn’t get angry and answered seriously. Taragon also responded with a serious expression.

“Let me be honest. I don’t see the point of all this.”

“What are you talking about, Taragon?”

Taragon’s tone was filled with the implication that Vulkanus’s dual bow and compressed arrows were useless.

It wouldn’t have been surprising if Vulkanus had swung his hammer in anger. Instead, he responded with an intrigued expression.

“Why do you think that?”

Taragon hadn’t spoken without reason. He had seen and felt something at the Southern Sword Tournament.

“I’ve seen firsthand that true powerhouses can’t be defeated with just these tools. No matter how rare the metal or how advanced the craftsmanship, in the end, weapons forged with Aura are the best. Unless they’re Artifact-level, of course.”

“That is…”

Vulkanus was about to respond when someone suddenly interrupted.

“That’s like believing all crows are black just because the first one you saw was black.”

“…?”

Keter, Vulkanus, and Taragon turned to look at the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

He had a striking appearance, carrying a bow twice his height on his shoulder and wearing a bandage over his eyes.

“Who are you?”

“You…!”

Vulkanus and Taragon were shocked to recognize the man with the eyepatch.

He extended his hand and said, “Nice to meet you. You must be Keter. My name is Nelson.”

Keter looked at Nelson with disdain and replied, “Wrong person.”

Nelson, who couldn’t see, had extended his hand in the wrong direction.

“Oops, the forge is so hot it sometimes confuses me.”

Whoosh!

Nelson turned around, and as the large bow moved with him, Taragon jumped back in surprise.

This time, Nelson extended his hand directly toward Keter and said again, “Nelson.”

“Keter.”

The two shook hands.

Keter, wanting to test Nelson, tightened his grip. Nelson smiled calmly.

“That hurts. Let go, please.”

“…”

Keter released his hand.

‘This guy… He’s not faking it.’

Nelson’s hand was red, and a drop of transparent liquid fell from under his eyepatch.

‘He must really be in pain.’

Keter, who had tested Nelson because he seemed like a formidable figure, felt a pang of guilt.

“Who is this fool, old man?”

Vulkanus chuckled at Keter’s question and said, “He may seem like a fool, but don’t judge by appearances. He’s one of the Seven Stars of Sephira, the strongest knights.”

“The Seven Stars? Ah, that.”

Keter had never met any of them in his past life, but the name rang a bell.

As Vulkanus explained, the Seven Stars were the seven strongest knights in Sephira. But this blind man with a ridiculously large bow was one of them?

‘Now that I think about it… he has no presence.’

Keter realized why he had felt something strange about Nelson.

Nelson had approached without Keter noticing, despite the distraction of the new weapon demonstration and Taragon.

Even an Assassin Master couldn’t evade Keter’s senses, but Nelson had done so while carrying a massive bow.

‘I have to max out my senses to even feel his presence. Impressive.’

Was there an Assassin-type archer in Sephira? Keter’s interest in Nelson and the Seven Stars grew exponentially.

Nelson set down his large bow and introduced himself again.

“If you know the Seven Stars, I should reintroduce myself. Nelson von Mizari, one of the Seven Stars.”

* * *

Mizari of Sephira.

His name wasn’t well-known in the Lilian Kingdom.

But in the neighboring Baen Kingdom, “Mizari” was a magical word that could silence even the angriest nobles.

Mizari’s sniping skills, capable of hitting targets from incredible distances, surpassed even magic or supernatural abilities.

Mizari’s arrows had killed 55 soldiers, 24 knights, 8 generals, and 7 mages.

Couldn’t they retaliate? No, they couldn’t. Mizari was shooting from within the Lilian Kingdom’s garrison.

It was absurd. Shooting arrows from the Lilian Kingdom’s garrison to the Baen Kingdom’s garrison.

The distance between the two garrisons was a staggering 3,000 meters.

It wasn’t a straight line either; there were forests and small hills in between. Even if it were flat, the idea of an arrow flying 3,000 meters was unheard of.

Even if there were an archer who could shoot an arrow 3,000 meters, how could they accurately hit a target? The arrow’s trajectory would be infinitely altered by wind, gravity, and obstacles, and the target might move.

Everyone doubted. They said it was impossible, like lightning striking the same spot ten times.

Only when they saw it for themselves, or when an arrow pierced a comrade’s forehead and no archer could be found nearby, did they believe.

Then, they trembled in fear and shouted the name inscribed on the arrow.

“Mi, Mizari! It’s Mizari’s arrow!”

“The Grim Reaper has come!”

“Everyone, take cover!”

The only saving grace was that Mizari’s sniping was as rare as a bolt from the blue, targeting random individuals.

But there was a difference between a bolt from the blue and Mizari’s sniping.

One hundred percent accuracy!

In three years stationed at the border, Mizari had shot 94 arrows, and not a single one missed.

Unfortunately, not all who were hit died. 82 died, and 12 survived.

But the soldiers of the Baen Kingdom couldn’t rest easy.

How could they? They didn’t know when or where the arrow would come from. They didn’t know who would be the next target.

They couldn’t keep a magic barrier up 24/7 or fortify the entire garrison of tens of thousands just because of one man.

The soldiers of Baen prayed they wouldn’t be Mizari’s next target, trembling in fear.

For three whole years!

Ironically, only the soldiers of the Baen Kingdom knew of Mizari’s terror. In the Lilian Kingdom’s garrison, Mizari was just a blind idler. A freeloader who wandered the garrison aimlessly every day.

They had never seen Mizari shoot an arrow. So, when Mizari left the garrison, no one missed him, and no one tried to stop him.

After three years, thanks to Hisop, Nelson returned to Sephira and heard many rumors on the carriage ride.

Rumors about Keter.

The changes that happened as soon as he joined the family.

His victory at the Southern Sword Tournament.

“Quite the heroic entrance.”

Mizari was skeptical of Keter, who had lifted Sephira from the bottom. He couldn’t help it.

“There are no coincidences in this world.”

Keter surely had secrets and goals. Mizari wanted to know what they were.

“Anyway, I’m a knight of Sephira. I have to protect it.”

If Keter was nurturing Sephira with ulterior motives, Mizari was ready to punish him.

But fate had a funny way of working. He didn’t have to go looking for Keter; they met right at the forge.

There were countless ways to gauge a person, but Mizari believed the most accurate was through conversation.

Luckily, Taragon had brought up the topic, making it the perfect time for a conversation.

After exchanging greetings with Keter, Mizari dove into a serious conversation to gauge his true intentions.

* * *

“Keter. Do you also think tools alone can’t bridge the gap in strength? No matter how excellent the tools?”

It seemed like an ordinary question, but in reality, nine out of ten people would say no. The prevailing atmosphere was that relying on tools was a sign of weakness.

But Keter didn’t care about such sentiments and knew well how important tools were to humanity.

“Of course not. The reason humans are superior to beasts is because we can use tools. Using tools well is a human privilege. Not just bridging the gap, but surpassing it.”

Conveniently, Taragon stepped in to counter on Mizari’s behalf.

“Keter. I agree with you. But look. No matter how excellent the tools, they’re useless against powerhouses like you.”

Taragon picked up an arrow and stabbed Keter’s forearm.

It was a steel arrowhead used in actual combat. Even the arrowheads made by Sephira’s craftsmen could easily pierce thick armor and leather.

But-

Thud!

“Ow, that’s hot.”

“See! This isn’t human skin!”

Everyone watching was shocked. Mizari, though blind, was sensitive to sounds and was inwardly surprised by what had happened.

“Amazing. Young Master Taragon struck with all his might. If it were a target, it would’ve pierced through. But human skin didn’t even break… Keter, what’s your body made of?”

Whack!

Before answering, Keter slapped Taragon’s back. The sound was like a whip cutting through the air.

“Ow! Why’d you hit me, Keter?!”

“Don’t you know? My body may be tough, but it’s not painless.”

“Not even a drop of blood…”

Whack!

“Ow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry! Next time, I’ll ask before stabbing. Anyway, I’ve proven it. No matter how excellent the tools, they don’t work on monsters. Talent is everything in this world.”

Taragon had grown at the Southern Sword Tournament, but that growth had also shown him something he hadn’t seen before: the power of true “monsters.”

Rajis, Henya, Pasian. They all couldn’t match Keter, but overshadowed by him, they were still the strongest of their peers.

And above them. Norman and the undead were completely immune to arrows. Even Aura didn’t work.

The helplessness Taragon felt then was unimaginable. The world Taragon believed in, where any adversity could be overcome, crumbled that day.

Despair set in when Taragon realized there were opponents even Aura couldn’t touch. The desire to grow stronger faded.

No matter how strong he became, it would still be Aura. What use was it to keep hammering Aura against an opponent it couldn’t affect?

Only a special “Aura” like Keter’s would work.

Aura that surpassed the limits of Aura, techniques!

And such techniques couldn’t be learned by just anyone. Only a chosen few could acquire them.

“Tools alone can never overcome this limit.” That was the new belief that had taken root in Taragon’s heart.

Just as Mizari was about to counter, Vulkanus stepped in this time.

“Well, well.”

Vulkanus marveled as he poked Keter’s forearm.

“If I closed my eyes and touched this… I’d believe it was Amantium. How did you train to get a body like this?”

“Die and come back to life a few hundred times. Easy, right?”

“Well, well.”

Poke, poke.

“Stop poking. Especially with that hammer you’re itching to swing.”

“Ahem, that’s not it. Taragon! It’s true that Keter’s skin can’t be pierced by this steel arrowhead. But listen.”

This was a forge. Vulkanus brought out a new arrow from somewhere.

“This Amantium arrowhead can pierce it. What does that mean? It means that with the right tools, even the weak can kill the strong.”

Whoosh!

As Vulkanus tried to stab Keter’s solar plexus with the arrow, Keter blocked it with his palm.

Thud!

“Thud?”

Whack!

“Ouch!”

Vulkanus, like Taragon, got slapped on the back and stumbled forward.

“You, you brat! You hit me too?”

“I don’t discriminate.”

Keter pulled out the Amantium arrowhead embedded in his palm and tossed it aside. A drop of blood clung to the arrowhead.

Taragon looked at Vulkanus with a “told you so” expression.

“See? Even an Amantium arrowhead doesn’t work.”

“Ahem! You, Keter! You used Aura just now, didn’t you? You blocked it with Aura, right?”

“If I used Aura, you’d know, old man. I just tensed my hand a bit when you tried to stab my solar plexus.”

“Huh, so you didn’t even tense your muscles when the steel arrow hit you?”

Keter just shrugged in response.

The soldiers, knights, and Nelson, who had become spectators, felt like they were watching a freak show.

And usually, such shows had tricks.

But the problem was that Keter’s freak show had no tricks.

“Wait a minute.”

Vulkanus, with his pride as a blacksmith, couldn’t back down and brought out another arrow.

A pinkish arrowhead. It was unmistakably made of Orichalcon, the strongest metal.

Keter looked incredulous.

“You’re not planning to stab me with that, are you?”

“Just a little poke, just a little.”

“It’ll pierce. I told you, so put the arrow down, old man.”

“How can I believe you? I need to see it with my own eyes. Especially Taragon’s eyes.”

Taragon’s eyes were burning with conviction. He wouldn’t give up his belief without solid evidence.

“Your eyes are similar to Taragon’s.”

“Don’t be stingy. You’re that whatchamacallit, Sephira’s thingamajig.”

“Give up. Even you can’t do it, old man.”

As Keter crossed his arms in a definitive gesture, Vulkanus pointed to the side with his finger.

“What?! Basil, how did you get here?”

Whoosh.

At Vulkanus’s words, everyone turned their heads.

Who would think that the great blacksmith Vulkanus would lie? Unless it was Keter.

Keter looked at Vulkanus with a pitiful expression, and Vulkanus charged in with a “whatever” attitude.

“Here goes!”

Vulkanus charged with all his might.

Keter could have easily dodged, but he didn’t.

Instead, he offered his palm.

He had refused to provoke, but taking an arrow hit wasn’t a big deal.

Thud!

This time, the Orichalcon arrowhead pierced Keter’s skin and dug into his muscle.

But it didn’t go all the way through.

“Gasp!”

Vulkanus found himself hanging in mid-air, holding the arrow.

Keter reached under Vulkanus’s armpit and set him down, then pulled out the half-embedded Orichalcon arrowhead.

Clang.

“Well, as you can see, even an Orichalcon arrowhead can pierce my skin. The power of tools, not to be underestimated, right?”

At Keter’s calm explanation, everyone present thought the same thing.

‘What kind of body is this that only an Orichalcon arrowhead can pierce?’

Even Mizari, who had wanted to test Keter, forgot his original purpose and applauded the bizarre display of defense.