Chapter 32

Before leaving the store.

Victor dressed Arfia in the recognition-inhibiting robe he used when he was active as an assassin.

The Elf race is exceedingly noticeable in terms of their energy and appearance. Of course, it isn’t that elves are hard to find; they’re not some mythical beings. There are elves who have left the forest and elves who live in human cities as well.

Just like the previous owner of the Celestial Oath, Inaxia, and his father, a high elf.

But the timing is crucial. It’s not a good idea to reveal Arfia’s existence at this time.

I’ve made sure to warn the children, too.

I told them not to say anything, no matter what.

I promised to buy them what they want if they behave.

“What brings you here?”

“I came to look at weapons.”

The place I brought Arfia to was a weapon shop.

Elf.

Weapons.

There’s only one thing that comes to mind.

“An elf uses a bow.”

It’s a rule among rules.

Arfia’s growth route can be divided into two paths.

One is Spirit Mage.

The other is Archer.

It doesn’t stray too far from the widely known characteristics of elves.

The potential is far higher for the Spirit Mage route. If trained well, she can fight with attributes suited for different situations.

But isn’t the romance really in being an archer? Climbing trees, traversing the forest like it’s her home, shooting arrows as an elf.

“That’s so cool.”

What’s most important is the act of shooting itself.

When shooting a bow, one needs to calm their mind and body, so there’s nothing better suited to soothe Arfia’s troubled heart.

Of course, there are cases where it doesn’t work out. There are stories of someone starting archery to calm down but instead becoming a noisy athlete skilled at it…

I can only hope Arfia doesn’t turn out like that.

“Have you ever shot a bow before?”

“That’s species discrimination. It’s assumed that elves are good at shooting bows…”

“You can’t use one, can you? But that’s okay. I’ll make you able to.”

The current Arfia is my slave bound by a soul shackles. Mirabel picked up magic easily, so Arfia should have some adjustment as well.

Plus, since the soul shackles have been strengthened, the effect will be even greater.

“Please take a look around. It’s a gift to commemorate your becoming a slave.”

Arfia shot me a sharp glare. Her eyes seemed to say, “What’s so memorable about that?”

But she soon realized it was meaningless and sighed. She began to look around the bows. Her expression was apathetic.

“They all suck.”

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

How good could weapons in a shop look to an elf? But it can’t be helped. There’s no route to obtain a bow through good fortune like the Celestial Oath right now.

“Just bear with something decent for now since you’re starting your practice stage. If your skills improve, I’ll get you something better.”

“Hmm…”

Arfia, who was scanning the bows with a disapproving look, reached out.

“Then I’ll take an easy-to-use crossbow…”

“Ga-al—!!”

“Whoa, why are you shouting?!!”

Arfia jumped.

She must’ve been really surprised as she clasped her hands to her chest.

But this was Arfia crossing the line.

This is beyond Mirabel’s maid outfit.

“Elves don’t use crossbows!”

“There are elves who do use crossbows, you know?”

“There aren’t!”

“As an elf, I’d know if there weren’t. Do you know more about elves than I do?”

“Well, that’s not it… but still, there aren’t!”

Using a crossbow isn’t what an elf does!

Don’t ruin my romance!

***

I bought a simple bow.

Thirty arrows were a bonus.

Due to the elf’s characteristic of having to run around in harsh forests, a compact bow is typically used. It can be considered standard.

With the bow in her hand and a quiver slung loosely around her waist, Arfia instantly changed the atmosphere.

Carami clapped frivolously beside her, saying she looked like a veteran elf archer.

“I really can’t shoot…”

Meanwhile, Arfia pouted her lips and plucked at the bowstring with a twang, looking disapproving at the fact that she’s now using a bow.

Carami leaned down to peer beneath the robe covering Arfia.

“Why do you look so unhappy? Are you wanting a kiss? Should I give you one?”

“This is… ugh, never mind. What am I even saying to you?”

Arfia, being an elf, had naturally shot a bow before. A long time ago, around the age of eight in human years.

The result, well, even in her current state, one can roughly guess.

She completely messed it up.

All thanks to those mischievous spirits.

Archery requires significant concentration, but Arfia’s spirits were the biggest rascals. They couldn’t sit still for a moment, how could she shoot a bow properly?

Naturally, the arrows flew in all the wrong directions, and she ended up creating a new hole in the rear of the elven elder.

After that, she wasn’t even allowed to touch a bow.

Carami would probably be disappointed with her archery skills too.

And would tease her.

Just like the others.

The two of them exited the Nocturne and settled in a nearby forest located opposite the Daesurim.

Arfia took a deep breath. The fresh, clear air of the forest filled her lungs. The familiar scent soothed her anxiety and calmed her tremors.

“Today, let’s just practice shooting for now. Forget about hitting the target and focus on shooting the arrows. Well, we still need a target. Let’s use this tree.”

As if it were that simple.

How much effort is required, even if it looks like a minor task?

Despite her dissatisfaction, she had no resistance. After all, she is already captured as a slave. Arfia swallowed her complaints, which were unheard, and pulled out an arrow.

She clutched the arrow and placed it on the bowstring. Her movements were slightly awkward, but the instincts ingrained in her race provided at least the bare minimum of form.

Slowly, she drew back the bow. Perhaps it was because she lacked strength, or maybe doubts from the past resurfaced. The arm holding the bowstring trembled.

Still unable to adjust her stance, Arfia released the bowstring, as if chased by something.

Tiddik.

The arrow barely moved and fell right there.

Arfia’s cheeks flushed bright red. She quickly crouched down and lowered her face, picking up the fallen arrow. She muttered in a small voice as if making an excuse.

“I told you I can’t shoot. Why do you keep asking me to shoot…?”

What’s not working, isn’t working.

Is it a demon that feasts on the shame of others?

There’s no worse taste than that.

….

No response came back.

The words Arfia muttered were absorbed into thin air, and an uncomfortable silence lingered.

Say something already.

It’s fine if you just want to laugh at me; just say anything.

You should at least tease me in a playful voice.

Why… is there no response?

As Arfia stealthily glanced over, she saw Carami smiling.

As expected, he was smiling.

But there was something different. It wasn’t the sneer she received from her kin. It was a somewhat distant smile, like looking at a portrait drawn by a lover.

And the words he uttered were:

“You look good.”

“…What?”

“Indeed, elves are elves. Just seeing you hold a bow brings life to the picture.”

It was a response she never anticipated.

For a moment left speechless, Arfia furrowed her brow.

“That’s a bad habit of yours. Talking nonsense that doesn’t make sense. What picture ‘comes to life’? The arrow fell right in front of me. Even throwing it would land farther.”

A prickly remark slipped out thoughtlessly.

It was like how a hedgehog curls up and extends its spikes in self-defense.

But Carami didn’t mind. He effortlessly dodged the spikes and delved deeper.

“That’s because you’re still inexperienced; that’s why you feel that way. I’d be the same if I shot.”

“That’s different. You’re human, and I’m an elf.”

“So what?”

“A bow is something elves learn before they can even walk. The perception is on an entirely different level compared to humans.”

How important must it be that elves would be mocked so harshly for not being able to handle a bow? There hasn’t been a time she’s felt so looked down upon.

“That’s species discrimination. It’s assumed that elves will naturally be good at shooting bows.”

Carami repeated what Arfia had said.

Following that, a convincing argument ensued.

“It’s a magnificent first step toward a splendid future. How emotional and beautiful is that? It feels quite good that only I know of the clumsiness of a future great archer.”

“……”

How could she not have a single comeback?

His ability to embellish his words is exceptional. No engagement ring could be wrapped as nicely as that.

What kind of picture is he painting that leads him to say such things? Arfia felt compelled to ask without being able to suppress her curiosity.

“What makes you believe such things?”

“Trusting a slave is as natural as the laws of nature. Is there any other reason needed?”

The words burst forth without a moment’s hesitation.

Even the kin all said she wouldn’t do well.

That she was a half-baked elf who couldn’t do anything.

In a situation where she had been treated like that for so long that she even unconsciously accepted it, here was a man she had only known for a few days offering her boundless trust.

Because his gaze bore the light of truth.

Because he wore an innocent smile that couldn’t harbor a single ounce of ill intentions.

Arfia, who had been staring at him in surprise, unconsciously turned her gaze away.

“You… that’s a bad habit…”

Not able to contest, Arfia mumbled words that wouldn’t reach Carami.

She remained sitting there without standing up.

She twirled the grass with her fingers.

An expression of someone who seemed to be lost in thought.

“Ugh.”

With that, she sighed and stood up. Casting a glance at the target, she slowly nocked an arrow.

She pulled back the bowstring and aimed at the target.

Her emerald eyes were firmly focused.

“Hmm, huff…”

She inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Her arms no longer trembled like before.

Her breath flowed smoothly like the wind seeping through the leaves.

Thwack!

Arfia once again snapped the bowstring.

Plop.

She missed.

The arrow barely flew and fell.

Even with a change in mindset, archery was not so easily improved.

However.

Arfia didn’t flush like before nor did she bother to recollect the fallen arrow.

“Again.”

She silently nocked the arrow again.

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