Chapter 13: White Oak

Every region possesses a different undertone to its night.

In the elven capital of Ivelius, the night is an elegant poem played by harps and leaf flutes; but in the "Steel Bulwark" of Molten City, the night is largely filled with blood, iron, and the smoke of war.

The late hours in the Misty Forest are very quiet.

The chirping of insects and the cries of beasts certainly exist, but it is different from other uninhabited wildernesses. The sounds are small and indistinct; even when right next to one's ear, they feel as if filtered through a veil, impossible to hear clearly. It is as if even the sound itself dissolves into the mist permeating the air.

Magi sat alone by the campfire, gently wiping his longbow.

It was an "old friend" that had accompanied him for nearly twenty years. Even though countless past memories had turned gray, much like his own life, he still remembered the morning twenty years ago, when he turned eighteen.

His father, a man as silent as the mountains, had cut down the white oak tree in the courtyard that had grown alongside him, and using its finest wood, crafted this longbow for him.

To be honest, there was nothing special about it. The limbs were flexible but lacked sufficient hardness, the grip felt coarse, and the string grooves were not finely polished. From any angle, it could not compare to the "premium" goods on shop shelves.

But just like the countless afternoons of his childhood spent napping under that white oak—the soft, refreshing breeze and the "rustle" of swaying leaves—the longbow felt as if it had merged with his very body, incredibly handy and intimate.

If not for that luxury carriage that had slowly rolled into the village, perhaps today he would still be wandering through those endless mountains with his "old friend"...

The orange-red flames reflected off Magi's weathered face, casting shadows that obscured his specific expression. His right leg, tightly wrapped in bandages, still throbbed with pain, and his arms were numb from the overexertion of combat skills.

He lifted his head and glanced at the pitch-black night sky. He took a deep breath.

His gaze swept beneath the green pine tree standing by the camp—the mace taken from the goblin cave lay quietly among the fallen leaves, and the two-handed axe from another deceased teammate leaned steadily against the trunk.

Speaking of which, although the half-orc named "Gakul" had a rough temperament, once you got to know him, he was actually quite...

"Forget it."

Magi shook his head. Late at night, one always tends to become sentimental.

Now, it was time for business.

He turned his gaze to the other side of the camp. Across the blazing campfire, a figure lay motionless, the sound of slow, long breaths faintly drifting through the air.

There was no hesitation in Magi's eyes; he had long since made his decision.

"Don't blame me, kid."

He did not stand up, maintaining his seated position on the ground. The wooden longbow was quietly raised vertically, the string drawn back, the fletching trembling slightly in the air. At such a close distance, it was impossible for Magi to miss. With a simple release, the sharp arrow would take the young life before him.

"This is how adventurers are, you must know," he murmured to himself.

And just then, Magi suddenly saw Xia Nan's eyelids flicker.

Xia Nan opened his eyes. His clear, bright pupils showed no sign of the grogginess one has upon waking.

*He realized it?* Magi wondered in surprise, even as his fingertips released the arrow shaft.

*Swish—*

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. The slender, sharp arrow churned through the mist, creating faint ripples of airflow under the moonlight. As it crossed the campfire, the rising flames were drawn by the current, climbing upward like the tentacles of a purgatory demon, only to be held firmly in place by the invisible pull of the fire's core.

Air, cotton blanket, fine grass, soil.

The arrow pierced through the blanket and struck the ground, yet there was no sound of it tearing through flesh.

Did he miss?

No, that was exactly where Xia Nan's head should have been while sleeping. It was simply that the "novice adventurer," having been on guard, had reacted and counterattacked the moment he confirmed the opponent's movement.

The body that appeared to be sleeping on its side was, in fact, the most efficient posture for generating force. The blanket covering him was violently tossed aside, blocking the opponent's vision, but by the time it fell, Xia Nan's figure had already vanished.

The sound of movement echoed through the air.

*Boom!*

The campfire was suddenly kicked over, sending sparks and heavy logs engulfed in flames flying into view. Immediately following was a fleeting flash of two silver arcs.

[Whirlwind Slash]

The firewood was sliced apart in the process, sending sparks flying. The blade entered the body and exited from the other side. The broken longbow fell to the ground.

"Heh... heh..."

Xia Nan stood on the meadow, facing Magi, who was clutching his throat with both hands. His trachea had been severed; he could not speak, only blood continuously flowing through his fingers.

In the deep night, Xia Nan could not capture Magi's expression. He only saw the man's eyes widening before finally losing their light, and his body twitching as he fell backward.

Only after crouching down to confirm the man was completely dead did Xia Nan breathe a sigh of relief, sheathing the two daggers from the gnome "Erki" back at his waist.

It wasn't luck. Ever since he had sensed the change in Magi's demeanor in the cave the day before yesterday, he had secretly heightened his vigilance. Even though this was his first mission, the performance of the "Scum Squad" along the way—which perfectly fit the stereotype of "low-level adventurers"—had been deeply etched into his mind.

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

However, Xia Nan had not intended to strike first; after all, until just now, the man had shown no hostility and had even quite earnestly invited him to join the team. It was fortunate that his timely cultivation of a cautious mindset helped him evade this sudden crisis.

Compared to the mental energy he had expended earlier, the actual combat was quite simple. The heavily injured Magi had only one chance with an arrow, and he had even had to wait until they reached the edge of the Misty Forest when his physical condition would allow for a smooth return to town before making his move. Meanwhile, Xia Nan, who had retained most of his combat strength, only needed a single strike to finish him.

The sky began to lighten slightly.

Leaving the corpse behind, Xia Nan followed the battlefield cleaning techniques he had learned from the others along the way and quickly packed the camp's supplies and luggage. There wasn't much useful equipment on Magi; his only weapon, the wooden bow, had been snapped during the fight and likely wouldn't fetch a good price. Therefore, Xia Nan simply took the man's quiver, extinguished the fire, and hurriedly departed.

A light breeze blew, and the "rustle" of swaying branches echoed through the woods.

Magi lay with his eyes closed, leaning against a tree, clutching the broken bow made of white oak in his arms. In this moment, he seemed to have returned to many years ago, to that sunny afternoon dappled with tree shadows.

(End of Chapter)