Chapter 2: Fandor Vs Wolfpack! Bandits too!?

The female wolf howled its cry resounding through the forest, while Fandor stuck to the trunk of a nearby tree, his hands gently pressed against the rough bark, brushing his fingers over the sharp ridges with his azure eyes, watching the wolfs movements like a hawk.

*Tap*

Fandor's right hand was like a skilled master, grasping four arrows from his quiver, stretching his fingers before half Nocking his bow, with the other arrows loose between his delicate fingers.

'Focus Fandor... Her body is erratic, the wind...' Once more, he used his ears to feel the breeze, gently brushing his face among the high weeds and grass, a scent of violet and buttercup fulling his sharp Elven nose before lifting his bow.

"The wind has shifted, now less than a quarter cen'ta left... Wait!? More wolves!" His gentle voice whispered, turning his body to the far left with a larger group of 3 wolves rushing towards the female.

'No! I cannot let them group up.'

*Creak*

His bow made a crude creak, the pressure of a full draw taking its durability to the limit. The wolves were more than 300 metres from the female wolf, now licking her mate's corpse, whimpering. 'Forgive me, but I must survive and eat too. May you be reborn together again in the next life.'

Should he shoot the female from here, the twang of his bow might alert the leading wolf, likely the second male of the pack, a large grey colour with a black underbelly.

Behind were two smaller females, both with soot black fur.

Fandor could feel the slight tension of his muscles, feeling his fingers twitching, 'make a choice...'

Taking a slow breath, his eyes seemed to glow brighter, their luminescence like the celestial glow from the moon.

'Bless my arrows, goddess of the twin suns. I shall test thy luck and smite thy enemy.'

Making a prayer was something he rarely did—his people would do this at times of great peril or at when faced with a dangerous choice.

*Twang!* *Whoosh-Swoosh-Swoosh!*

His masterful archery shot two arrows, their force less than a fully drawn arrow.

At the same time, he grabbed another pair, shooting four arrows—they curved like the wind goddess gently kissed them with her gentle breeze.

The arrows wrapping around the larger male bypassing him, all four penetrating the female wolves as they dashed forward. His crude arrows penetrated their eyes, killing them instantly.

Their eyes were dull as the force of their bodies sent them rolling forward, crashing into the earth and grass at high speed with loud cracks.

⟪Used Skill: Rapid Shot On black Wolf (female)⟫

- 28 met'ra, 2x Damage: Target Died

Undetected!

⟪Used Skill: Rapid Shot On black Wolf (female)⟫

- 27 met'ra, 2x Damage: Target Died

Detected!

[Archery Skill Increased to 21]

[You should visit an Inn and rest on your Gains (Level UP)]

"Hah!"

On the second Rapid Shot, he overworked, his chest muscle aching, causing him to let out a sound of pain, alerting the male wolf.

*Shuffle*

Fendor's eyes never left the large wolf—now, with one arrow left, he stood while grasping 3 more arrows from his quiver. Now with 34 remaining.

The grey wolf's eyes burned with rage, its mouth snarling with a deep and ferocious howl, one that seemed to spell Fandor's death as the other mourning wolf began to dash over.

*Creak!*

His fingers pulled the black arrow tip, further overdrawing the bow, its curved wings loud and showing extreme wear from a single shot.

The pair locked eyes, Fandor and the wolf ignoring the female that started to rush towards him with her fangs bared.

His nimble fingers loaded a second arrow into the quiver, the force on his hand causing a slight aching pain.

'One...'

'Two.'

'Three...'

*Woosh!* two arrows shot from the bow the moment the wolf howled into the air as two arrows tore through the air, twisting as they danced with each other like a couple at their wedding.

⟪Used Skill: Twin Shot On Grey Wolf (New Alpha!)⟫

- 22 met'ra, 1x Damage: Target Heavily Injured!

*Thunk!*

"Awuuuu!!!"

"Not enough!" Fandor called out, his eyes widening as the huge wolf took an arrow into its chest, blood spurting from the wound as the other dug into the ground below, now rushing towards him rapidly.

Fandor held his breath, watching the wolf approach with his beautiful blue eyes, grasping the final arrow as he pulled the bow slower than before.

'Come!'

The constant firing caused a slight ache and damage to the muscles in the chest and fingers due to his poor equipment and the bad posture of his shot.

Like a bull, the wolf charged at him with bloodshot eyes before its body lept into the air less than 3 metres from Fandor.

But the elf smiled under his mask.

As the wolf jumped...

His arrow was shot like a cruel executioner into the underbelly of the wolf. Its deadly accuracy and increased damage made it easily pierce into the wolf's stomach.

⟪Used Skill: Charged Shot On Grey Wolf (New Alpha!)⟫

- 2 met'ra, 1x Damage: Target Mortally Wounded (Dying)

"Wu....uu....."

A howl filled with sorrow and grievance as the poor wolf missed its mark, smashing into a tree, with innards and blood falling from the deep wound.

"And I didn't forget you!"

*Bang!*

His foot lifted, kicking the airborne female wolf in her stomach, knocking her down, before he jumped on her exposed body, stabbing her with the last arrow in his hand.

A brutal scene as he stabbed several times, the feeling of her warm blood and innards oozing out between his fingers caused Fandor to stop finally... 'Forgive me... Your final moments... How tragic...'

The Elves were a very spiritual race and always tried to show respect for the innocent lives taken for survival.

Even a wandering Elf like Fandor.

"Haa...Haa...."

He overlooked the scene, five wolves dead to his archery, something Fandor would never have imagined 2 years ago when he left. "Father, I can finally make a living on my own. Are you well? Your son is fine even without magic."

*Cut*

Slowly recovering his arrows, Fandor found he only had 42 Crude Arrows left, as two had shattered upon impact with the strong muscle and bones of the wolves.

At the same time, he used his herb knife to cut two Mug-Wort and Silverleaf before putting them in a small pouch on his waist. "Scrooge will buy these."

[Alchemy Skill Increased to 12]

-> Entered Lesser Stealth

'I should start processing them—there isn't till night...'

Fandor took out a sharp knife, the most expensive item he owned. Its blade was beautiful, black with silver shimmering crystals inside it was an obsidian blade.

Making sure it was ready to cut, he knelt and started skinning the fur and hiding from the two larger alpha wolves. His knife easily cut through the tough sinew and hard muscle film, sliding along their bodies and peeling the best part of their fur.

He wanted to drain them ideally, but time was not so fair... When night came, it was the time of monsters and bandits.

A low-level Archery apprentice like him didn't stand a chance.

***

[Blacksmith skill Increased to 6]

A few hours had passed, his bags full of two Alpha wolf pelts and good portions of their meat and fangs. "Phew.... tiring..." He looked towards the females with his face filled with small beads of sweat,

"No, then let's...."

*Thunk! Thunk!*

Two arrows shot into the tree beside his head before his ears started to work overtime to locate the enemy...

'Two... no four! One human, three Wood elves!?' His eyes looked through the darkening forest only to see a group of more than 10 people in worn leather and thick untrimmed beards...

"Shit... Bandits!"

What's worse, that had several wood elves! The bloodline of elves born to become archers! How could a low-level High Elf like him compare to a race normally skilled in magic and diplomacy!?

Reaching for a small black bottle on his belt, Fandor lowered his body, slowly backing away towards the village. 'I have to time this right.'

"Oi, lad, how about you leave that pack where ye are and leave."

"Yeah~ Then we won't harm you!" Another bandit added, but Fandor was no idiot. Four archers were locked onto him; he needed to act NOW!

*Bah!*

A burst of thick smog exploded, the stench like that of a disgusting bog used by trolls as a latrine!

The black mask of Fandor blocked half the stench, but even he almost vomited before launching his body back and running desperately towards the village.

'I can take a wolf pack... but bandits too!? Dream on! I am not the God of Archery!'

When...

*Woosh! Woosh! Woosh-Woosh!"

More than six arrows shot towards his back like deadly homing lightning bolts.