White Oak

Every region's night had a different undertone.

In Elven King City Ivelius, the night was an elegant poem played by harps and leaf flutes; in the "Steel Bastion," Molten Steel City, the night was mostly filled with iron and blood, with smoke from war beacons.

The dead of night in Thin Mist Forest was very quiet.

The chirping of insects and cries of beasts were certainly present, but they differed from those in other desolate wildernesses.

They were faint and indistinct. Even when they were close at hand, they seemed separated by a veil, impossible to hear clearly.

It was as though even sound had melted into the mist permeating the air.

Maji sat alone by the campfire.

Gently wiping down his longbow.

It was the "Old Buddy" that had accompanied him for nearly twenty years.

Though his countless memories had long turned gray, just like his life, he still remembered that morning twenty years ago, when he turned eighteen.

His father, who had always been as taciturn as The Mountains, had cut down the White Oak in their yard that had grown alongside him. Using its finest wood, he had crafted this longbow for him.

To be honest, there was nothing particularly special about it.

Its limbs were flexible but not hard enough, its grip felt rough, and its string grooves had not been polished carefully enough.

No matter how one looked at it, it could not compare to the "premium goods" on store shelves.

But it was like those countless afternoons when he had dozed beneath the White Oak as a child.

The gentle, crisp breeze and the rustling of its swaying branches and leaves.

The longbow seemed to have fused with his body, incomparably familiar and fitting.

If not for that luxurious carriage that had slowly rolled into the village, perhaps he and Old Buddy would still be wandering through those boundless mountains today...

Orange-red flames reflected off Maji's weathered face. It was shrouded in shadow, making his expression impossible to discern.

His right leg, tightly wrapped in bandages, still ached faintly. His arms were numb and sore from overusing his combat skill.

He raised his head and glanced at the pitch-black night sky.

Taking a deep breath.

His gaze swept beneath the Green Pine Tree standing beside the camp—

The Morningstar brought out of Goblin Cave lay quietly among the fallen leaves, while the Hand Axe belonging to another dead teammate rested steadily against the trunk.

Come to think of it, the Half-Orc named Ga Gu had been a little hot-tempered, but after getting to know him, he had actually been quite...

"Forget it."

Maji shook his head.

Late at night, it was always easy to become sentimental.

Now, it was time to get down to business.

He looked toward the other side of the camp.

Across the blazing campfire, a figure lay completely still. The faint sound of calm, long breaths drifted through the air.

There was no hesitation in Maji's eyes. He had already made his decision.

"Don't blame me, kid."

He did not rise, remaining seated cross-legged on the ground.

The wooden longbow silently rose upright. Its string drew back, and the arrow's fletching trembled faintly in the air.

At such close range, there was naturally no chance that Maji could miss.

All he had to do was loosen his fingers, and the sharp arrow would take the young life before him.

"Adventurers are like this. You have to understand."

He muttered to himself.

At that moment, Maji suddenly saw Xia Nan's eyelids twitch slightly.

His eyes opened.

They were clear and bright, nothing like the bleary gaze of someone who had just awakened.

He noticed?

Surprised, Maji had already released the arrow shaft.

Whoosh—

At that instant, time and space seemed to freeze.

The slender, razor-sharp arrow stirred the mist, trailing faint ripples of air beneath the moonlight;

As it passed over the campfire, the rising, twisting flames were drawn by the airflow, climbing upward like the tentacles of demons from Purgatory, only to be firmly restrained by an invisible force at the heart of the fire.

Air, blanket, fine grass, soil.

The arrow pierced through the blanket and plunged into the ground, yet there was no sound of it piercing flesh.

Had he missed?

No. That had been where Xia Nan's head should have been while he slept.

But the "novice adventurer," already on guard, had evaded and counterattacked as soon as he confirmed the other man's move.

The body that appeared to be sleeping soundly on its side was actually in the position best suited for exerting force.

The blanket over him was suddenly flung up. It blocked the other man's vision, and by the time it fell, Xia Nan had already vanished.

The sound of something moving came from the air.

"Boom!"

The campfire was abruptly kicked over. Flying sparks filled his vision, along with heavy logs wrapped in flames.

Then came two fleeting arcs of silver light.

[Whirlwind Slash]

The firewood was sliced apart in passing, sending sparks scattering.

The blades entered flesh, then cut out through the other side.

The broken longbow fell to the ground.

"Hack... hack..."

Xia Nan stood in the meadow. Before him was Maji, both hands clutching his throat.

His windpipe had been severed. He could not speak, and blood only continued to flow through his fingers.

The night was dark, and Xia Nan could not make out Maji's expression.

He only saw the other man's eyes widen again and again before finally losing their light, along with his twitching body as it fell backward one last time.

He crouched down and confirmed that the man was completely dead.

Only then did Xia Nan let out a breath and return the two daggers from the Gnome Elki to his waist.

It had not been luck.

From the moment he noticed the change in Maji's demeanor in the cave the day before yesterday, he had quietly raised his guard.

Though this was his first mission, the behavior of the Stinky Fish Rotten Shrimp team along the way, which fit the stereotype of "bottom-tier adventurers" rather well, had been deeply etched into his mind.

One must always be wary of others, even teammates who had just gone through a life-and-death battle together.

But Xia Nan had not gone so far as to strike first. Until just now, the other man had shown no hostility at all and had even sincerely invited him to join the team.

Fortunately, the cautious mindset he had grasped in time helped him avoid this sudden crisis.

Compared with the mental strain he had endured beforehand, the battle between the two had been very simple.

The heavily injured Maji had only one chance to fire an arrow. He had even needed to wait until they reached the edge of Misty Forest, when his current physical condition would allow him to return to town safely, before making his move;

Xia Nan, who still retained most of his strength, needed only a single slash to deal with him.

The sky gradually brightened.

Without bothering with the corpse, Xia Nan followed the battlefield-cleanup techniques he had learned from the others along the way and quickly packed up the supplies and luggage in the camp.

There was not much useful equipment on Maji. His only weapon, the wooden bow, had been cut apart in the fight and would probably fetch no price.

Thus, Xia Nan merely took his quiver, extinguished the fire, and hurriedly left.

A clear breeze blew past, and the rustling of swaying branches echoed through the forest.

Maji sat with his eyes closed, leaning against the tree. In his arms was the broken wooden bow made from White Oak.

At that moment, it was as though he had returned to that sunny afternoon many years ago, beneath dappled shade.