The murmurs of the crowd swelled into a wave as Ashborn stepped forward — each footfall composed, deliberate, and magnetic. Heads turned, eyes widened, and whispers followed him like a breeze. When he stopped before Kazel, it was like two storms about to collide in broad daylight.
Ashborn extended his hand. His smile was the kind that made hearts skip — easy, charming, dangerously smooth. "You must be the newest legend people speak about lately," he said. His voice was calm, clear, confident. "My name is Ashborn."
Kazel mirrored the smile, though his was laced with a teasing curve. He accepted the handshake firmly. "Your look suits your name."
"Ash from a fire," Ashborn chuckled. "You?"
"Kazel."
Ashborn's eyes flickered with interest. "How good are you with your archery skills?"
"Just a neglected hobby of mine," Kazel replied, his tone nonchalant but his grip never slackening.
"Hahaha, same here," Ashborn said with a grin. "I only ever use it to hunt. You know, for fun."
From the sidelines, Juni raised a hand toward a fellow elder, signaling it was time. The elder stood, his robes fluttering slightly with the breeze as he addressed the competitors in a firm voice.
"Everyone, please pick up your bow and arrows respectively and stand in position. The preliminary round is about to begin."
The crowd stirred as participants began stepping toward the long white table where identical bows and three arrows awaited each of them. The meadow ahead stretched open, the targets a full hundred meters out — small dots of red and black against a sea of swaying grass.
Ashborn released Kazel's hand with a smirk, giving him a slow nod. "Let's see whose hobby's more dangerous."
Kazel chuckled and turned, walking casually toward the table. "Let's."
The ten participants stood in a clean line, each equidistant from the next, facing the wide meadow and its distant targets. The wind tugged lightly at their robes — playful, unpredictable, a test in itself. The crowd quieted as the elder raised his voice again, clear and strong.
"We will take the five best amongst you brave ten," he announced. "You may only nock your arrows after I say 'fire' — got that?"
"That's my favorite word," Ashborn said with a smirk, tilting his head toward Kazel without breaking his grin.
The elder ignored the quip, his tone unwavering. "We will judge your accuracy. You all only have one try. Elder Juni, do you want to add anything more?"
Juni stood from her seat, her long coat rustling lightly in the breeze. Her gaze swept across the line of contestants, lingering just a second longer on Kazel and Ashborn.
"Hold your breath," she said with a warm, playful smile, "and have some fun."
The audience responded with a wave of cheers and claps as she returned to her seat beside Yasha and Liora. Liora leaned forward, watching with interest. Yasha simply chewed her petal, eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever.
Durandal stepped forward, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. "Good luck, young master!"
Arhatam pumped a fist. "We need to win! Like how you always do!"
Kazel gave a casual nod, then waved his hand dismissively. "Shoo. You're making me look like I have fans."
The two reluctantly stepped back to the sidelines as Kazel stretched his shoulders and glanced at the bow in front of him.
The sun peeked out fully, casting a golden glow over the field. The wind stilled for just a moment — as if nature itself waited for the signal.
Arhatam slumped onto the bench, letting out a breath of hopeful nerves. (Getting the third place is fine, we just need a win... no pressure... no pressure at all.) he told himself, hands gripping his knees.
Beside him, Durandal leaned in, eyes fixed on Kazel's back. "Hey… Arhatam, did you ever see young master use a bow?"
"No…?" Arhatam scratched his head, squinting as if the answer might float out there on the wind. "But I've seen him throw a spear."
Durandal blinked. "That's not the same thing!"
"Well… maybe they share the same principles?" Arhatam offered with a forced smile, which quickly faded. "Probably… maybe… hopefully…"
Meanwhile, Juni crossed her legs and studied the participants closely, especially the two at the center of everyone's attention. "Hmm. Ashborn doesn't seem hostile."
"He just wants to get to know him," said Liora, her arms folded, her expression unreadable.
"Are you sure?" Yasha's tone was teasing, but her eyes remained sharp. "From what I know, Ashborn is really good with a bow. Not as good as Juni, of course," she added with a smirk, "but definitely better than the other eight."
"Hmm," Liora tilted her head, her gaze narrowing on Kazel as he tapped his fingers against his bow absentmindedly. "How about Kazel?" she asked softly.
Yasha raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me?"
Liora didn't answer — not directly. Her lips tugged into the faintest of grins, her thoughts echoing quietly:
(Show me who you are, reincarnated one.)
And out on the field, Kazel rolled his neck once, eyes half-lidded, his fingers curling loosely around the bowstring.
The wind stirred again. The world hushed. The trial was about to begin.
"FIRE!"
The wind whipped across the meadow.
Ashborn's bowstring snapped taut with the first breath of the command. His motion was fluid — a masterclass of poise and precision. In one seamless pull, he drew the bow, aimed into the wind's curve, and let it fly.
Thwip!
The arrow swerved gently with the current — not against it — then struck the bullseye dead center, embedding itself deep into the red dot. It didn't shake. It landed. Like it belonged there.
Ashborn released a calm breath. His smile was casual, but confident. He turned his head slightly to take in the reaction of the crowd.
Gasps. Murmurs. Awe.
The other eight competitors were visibly shaken. Some lowered their bows. A few forgot to breathe.
But not the judges.
Juni, usually composed, leaned back slowly, her eyes wide with unguarded surprise. Her lips parted slightly as she muttered, "...damn."
Liora shook her head, biting back a grin. "He's better than I thought."
A soft flutter beside her — Yasha's petal dropped from her lips to the ground. Her mouth was still half-open. "Did he just…" she trailed off, squinting toward the target. Then her gaze shifted. "Wait…"
Ashborn turned his head to Kazel — only to find Kazel already done.
The crimson-haired youth had his bow lowered, pointed lazily to the ground. His posture was casual, as if he had just stretched instead of competed.
Ashborn followed his gaze toward Kazel's own target… and paused.
The arrow was there. Centered. Embedded even deeper than his. A perfect strike.
Ashborn blinked — then smiled.
"Looks like both of us are quite invested in our hobbies," he said with a relaxed laugh.
Kazel tilted his head, tapping the bow against his shoulder. "The target's too near, don't you think?"
Ashborn chuckled. "Looks like this is just a warm-up for you."
On the sidelines, Durandal and Arhatam erupted.
"YOUNG MASTER!" Durandal shouted as he threw his arms around Arhatam.
"We're winning—We're really winning!" Arhatam shouted back, before realizing what he was doing and promptly shoved Durandal away. "D-Don't hug me, idiot!"
Cheers echoed from the crowd. A stir of excitement rippled through the plain — not just for one master archer, but two.
Two prodigies had just stolen the show.
And the competition had just begun.
Liora glanced sideways, catching the flicker of tension etched into Juni's brows. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but not to her eyes.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.
Juni blinked, straightening. "Huh? No. Just... observing."
"Hehe," Liora smirked. "Are you surprised that you've got two equally talented individuals in your little tournament?"
Juni exhaled, her gaze still focused on the range. "Equal, huh…"
"I mean, sure, Ashborn hit the bullseye first, but Kazel followed right after with another perfect shot. That's equal, isn't it?" Liora leaned back casually, brushing a strand of violet hair from her face.
But Juni didn't respond immediately. She tapped her finger against her knee. "I wouldn't use the word equal... not yet."
That made Yasha glance at her. A slow chew on the petal resumed between her lips, but her brows furrowed thoughtfully. Her eyes slid to Kazel — who now stood with a loose posture, his bow slung lazily across his shoulder, as if this were some training exercise he barely had to attend to.
("Did I miss something?") she thought.
Juni's eyes narrowed slightly, her thoughts swirling.("The moment Ashborn's arrow hit the bullseye, everyone — even the elders — had their eyes locked on the target. It was a perfect shot. A textbook demonstration.")
She inhaled through her nose, gaze still set on Kazel.("But I saw it. Just as Kazel released his arrow…")
She blinked again, slowly.("He yawned.")
A chill crawled gently down her neck.
("Was it luck? A hundred-meter bullseye shot, with a yawn? Under two seconds? I hope I'm not coping.") she let out a sigh ("No matter, it will be proven in the next round.")