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Strongest Archer: Rise of the Lunar Son

A High Elf that cannot use magic in a world where pedigree and lineage are everything is case out, exiled from his home and forced to live the life of a ranger. Relying on his wits, archery and traps to survive. On his adventure, he meets many people, some becoming close friends while others bitter rivals or enemies. Yet Fandor loves life and only desires to become strong enough that his father might accept him even without the ability to use magic... A young elf's journey to surpass the limits of his bloodline and fate.

Abyss_Dream · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
3 Chs

Chapter 3: A bandits Arrow for a Maidens kiss? Anytime!

Fandor's body pushed backwards, the muscles in his legs tightening to their limit before his long ears swayed. He felt the wind vibrate, as a violent whistle sounded like a knight calling his horse...

Six arrows tore through the smog bomb, their speed beyond his eye's ability to follow—with their razor-sharp tip and jagged edges, they shot toward his body.

Something impacted his body like a hammer hitting his body, causing a painful throbbing and burning sensation from his thigh and chest, the air leaving his lungs as he coughed up blood, soaking his black mask with the scent of iron as he rolled with the momentum.

At the same time, the ground beside him sounded with several thuds from arrows penetrating the ground, only missing him by a few cen'ta shot through the smog.

'Damn.... it hurts!'

With his eyes glowing a brilliant blue, the small flickers of what could only be mana, magic, flowed from his eyes as he locked onto one of the men, the face mocking him with a sneer!

"Goddess of the twin suns, guide my arrow to smite the vermin that ruin your forests!"

He bit down to endure the searing pain in his chest while desperately grasping his bow. 'Just once... one arrow... one kill!'

Fandor pulled his last arrow halfway and quickly released a shot into the sky before rolling back, his leg stiff, the muscle cramping as blood began to bubble from the jagged arrow's wound.

*Swoosh!*

With a smooth arc, his arrow cut through the smoke—for a moment, Fandor could see them preparing to Nock another shot before his long ears twitched, hearing a pained scream.

⟪Used Basic Attack: On Bandit(Wood Elf!)⟫

- 124 meters, 1x Critical Damage: Target Disabled (Blinded!)

"Gyaah! My eyes! FUCKING Hymer!!" (AN: Hymer = Elven word for High Elf)

'Dare use a slur for my name, Woumer!' (AN: Woumer = Elven word for Wood Elf)

Fandor's right arm dropped, unable to lift or move it as the painful pulsing from the arrow piercing his shoulder awoke him from his stupor. 'Let's run... I cannot fight them like this!'

Without regard to honour or being a hero, his green cape, filled with dirt, fluttered as he forced his body past the limit to rush through the forest—At each step, blood would seep from his wounds, as the stabbing agony from the arrow embedded in his thigh, chest and shoulder causing his eyes to fill with tears, blurry from the blood loss and intense pain.

"Haa... shit.... branches... damn it... the wolf pelts are heavy..." Desperate to escape, he threw all but one of the pelts and meat before stumbling forward, his hand smearing blood on the beautiful tree's coming closer to the exit.

They were hot on his trail, arrows screaming through the air as they penetrated the trees and ground around his body... His heart raced while he forced the sharp tip of his dagger into his palm to stop himself from collapsing...

'My legs... damn it.... is this the end?'

Stumbling, his body was sent flying off a small ledge, the impact of hitting the ground causing him to groan in agony as two arrows were pushed deeper into his flesh—his eyes widening in shock as his pupils dilated from the pain. "Ugh....damn...."

*Thud!*

Rolling down the jagged and rocky slope, his body was caught on several twigs, branches and small stones, causing his body to become battered and filled with small cuts and wounds before Fandor suddenly felt weightless...

He was falling!

"Aah!?"

*Bang!*

With a gruesome sound, his body landed close to the village as the Empire Guard he spoke to just happened to be taking a piss a few metres from his body, "What? Who goes there? Wait... Isn't this that High Elf boy!? He's so badly wounded... Damn... Nodal! Call the Alchemist over!! QUICK!"

In his last moments of hazy consciousness, Fandor could see the green of the forest and fading blue sky... 'Am I... Saved?'

***

[Unknown Time, Lithelion, Capital City of Almeroth, The Royal Palace.]

"You must be mistaken, Al'deria—there is no way my king's son would be unable to use any magic nor sense the mana in the air!" A beautiful woman who looked to be in her mid-30s, wearing a gorgeous white and black dress with a silver crown on her head, sitting on a small throne.

Beside her, a male in exquisite golden robes and pristine blonde hair looked at the woman in a black mage's robe, bowing before him with an unsightly face with his sharp blue eyes.

"Are you sure, Al'deria?" His deep voice sounded throughout the throne, as the small boy... beautiful with long blonde hair and beautiful azure eyes like the endless ocean of Arnhem.

Her body trembled because this was not some noble or mere merchant asking her to learn their child's affinity with magic... It was the King of all High Elves... and the boy was the crown prince... Fandorim illos Almerion!

She lowered herself, bowing as she trembled in terror... However, the young boy whose future was just ruined... A high elf prince who cannot use magic.

His soft, delicate hand grasped hers, "Older sister, you need not bow... The bad one is Fandorim."

"Fandor!" The King's loud voice sounded before scowling at his son's actions.

Yet the young boy, who looked no more than 15 or 16, looked to his father as if no wrong was done, still trying to pull the lady from the floor.

"Fandor... my dear, please let your father finish. Okay?" His beautiful mother, her figure growing ever blurred... the scent that was so vibrant became like someone looking through a foggy mirror.

Except for his father's stern face...

"Fandor! Can you see this light?"

Everyone in the room could see the beautiful red light from the fire spell the King was casting, a wondrous array of red and orange sparks dancing around his fingers.

However...

"See what, father? I only see your hand moving weirdly."

'Ah... Here it comes, the face... Father, please don't be disappointed...'

'I will train hard to become the strongest archer... surpass the strongest mages... Please don't look so bleak because of Fandorim's lack of talent!"

A single tear dropped from his mother's cheek while his father opened his mouth, a single tremble of his lips... Before a look, only the adult Fandor could understand...

The young him just smiled, trying to cheer him up...

'Forgive me—I was born defective...'

As the dream faded... he desperately tried to show his father... to make his small body grab a bow and show him... that Fandor had a skill!

But the dream began to fade... a groggy and painful feeling greeting him... as a woman's melodic voice sounded, her humming like the call of a songbird.

She was singing in elvish...

"Vi vrennil 'waew, iîr verin, Dúr i ennas, vanim norin. Lebethron i vist, ithil vên, Taurnin ennas, sui dannas mîr."

(Translation: "In pots and pans, the brew takes flight, Enchanting scents, a sweet delight. With forest herbs and fruits so fair, We blend a feast beyond compare.")

The sound of a bubbling pot and the clang of pots and pants filled his ears as Fandor woke up, as he called his father's name out of habit...

"Aina Atar..." (Exalted Father)

His soft words caused the gentle song to end abruptly as he felt her coming closer, slowly opening his eyes to greet her...

A surprising woman appeared in his beautiful neon blue eyes.

Yet the only thought in his mind was the burning hot meal of porridge in her arms that she quietly set beside his bed. 'A few bandit arrows for a lovely maiden's home-cooked meal? Anytime!'