Moffat's short stature looked rather comical as he raised the crossbow to his arm and aimed it at the distant target. Yet no one dared laugh at the dwarf's awkward appearance. Instead, they were stunned by Moffat's sharp gaze.
Dwarves were not only natural craftsmen; they were also natural warriors.
From the Moffat standing before him, Mirai could already tell that the man possessed genuine skill. Naturally, this only strengthened Mirai's resolve to persuade him to join the company.
"I'll show you the power of a dwarf warrior!" Moffat possessed a dwarf's pride, as well as the strength to justify it.
Bang.
Moffat curled his finger around the trigger. The crossbow string snapped violently, and the bolt instantly struck the target.
"Wow, bullseye!"
The onlookers cried out in surprise. Dwarves appeared to be lacking in both height and magical attainment, and they generally did not possess exceptional talent in combat.
Moffat was also satisfied with his shot. He had always maintained his crossbow with great care, and today, it had finally found a place to shine. Then he turned to Mirai and said somewhat disdainfully, "Young master, your turn."
"Ah, that was an accurate shot. It certainly showed me the strength of a dwarf warrior, but I've always had bad luck!"
Mirai raised the crossbow with his left arm and looked toward its rear. A green crosshair appeared in the center of his vision.
"Hehe, what a rich young master. Looks like he hasn't trained much!" Moffat smiled with a trace of mockery. The moment he saw the way the red-haired boy held the crossbow, he knew Mirai was an amateur. Moffat now wanted to win the contest and show him how it should be done.
As Moffat closed his eyes, savoring the joy of victory, he heard the spectators