Book 5 - Chapter 48 - Plans Change (Patreon)

AN: Chapter 49 is fully written will be posted tomorrow, barring unexpected severe disasters! Revised a few plans for the end of the book and book 5 will be ending on 51 now!

Sorry for the delays, but I had to focus on some IRL stuff that has a firm deadline of the end of this month (namely, 15 hours of continuing education requirements for my old career that I'll almost definitely need to return to in some capacity sooner or later). Still kind of sweating about if my participation will verify on time—you'd think this would be automatic by now. Fingers crossed!

“What?” Sylphene’s reaction was subdued. She simply lowered her bow and asked a simple question with a mildly stricken expression.

Ranthia’s own reaction was somewhat less subdued.

“What in Xaoc’s eternal name do you mean ‘terrible’?! She didn’t even have a combat class eighty years ago and she’s still a better archer than some of the veteran soldiers I’ve known! Gods, the grouping of her hits was close enough that they overlapped! Are you seriously dismissing her just because she has a single [Mage]-tagged class for her archery or something?!” Ranthia shouted after him, desperately struggling against her burning need to grab the almighty elf and shake him until he finally made sense.

Ranger blinked, looking over his shoulder at them. “What? I said it was ‘good,’ didn’t I? I’m pretty sure I did, at least. Unless my memory Skill is starting to record what I meant to say instead of what I actually said. In which case, let me tell you, I am up a creek without even a log to my name!”

“Perhaps you can offer a more thorough explanation?” Sylphene held her hand out to stave off Ranthia’s rebuttal while she made her own—far more diplomatic—effort.

“Well, you see, if [Ranger’s Recollections] has become inaccurate, I’m… Oh! Right, you meant you wanted an explanation about why your terribleness is a good thing. That would make more sense; you youthful sort are always selfish like that. Simple answer though—being terrible means I can teach you. If you were already good as an [Archer], I’d have to hope that our styles were similar enough that any advice I could give wouldn’t be a detriment to you.

“Also, teaching Ranthia here how to not get killed by an experienced immortal has always been more of a hobby than anything. Saving one woman from herself? Hardly favor worthy, honestly. But you? Yeah, with you in the mix, I can finally feel like I’ve repaid a bit of what I owe to… well, that woman. As for why you’re terrible: your grouping is too loose. I’d really expect your no Skills display to look like your second showing, and I expected a single dot from that one. Not entirely your fault, but it is pretty telling that you don’t seem to be aware of the problem. But hey, since you’re terrible, I can quite happily tell you to forget what you know about archery. Because it kind of stinks, and not in the fun way.” Ranger stowed his cube and walked over to a nearby tree to set his hand on it.

A few moments later, a thick branch dropped into his waiting hand.

“Gratitude.” Ranger patted the tree affectionately, before he walked back over to Sylphene.

She seemed to be deep in thought and, for her sake, Ranthia tried to stow her remaining indignation.

“I… must confess that I have no idea what this problem that you referenced could be. I have never strived for sharpshooting, as it has seldom been needed in practice, but I can always improve with time and diligence.” Sylphene finally gave voice to her conclusion.

“Huh, you just keep surprising me. I was really expecting you to argue with me or waste several days mulling over it, but you’ve found an impressively narrow balance for your curse, haven’t you? I suppose—wait. Ranthia, why did you go all skittish on us?” Ranger turned to face her, with his head tilted so far to the side that he looked more like a puzzled puppy than a living legend.

“Why are you so damned observant today?” Ranthia subvocalized her complaint, even though she knew that both elves would hear her just fine. “Look, I’ve had more than a few elves make it clear to me that having any detailed information about the elven curse would end poorly for me and those around me, so forgive me if I get a bit twitchy when you start directly referencing it.”

“Oh, huh, I always assumed someone else read you in. Way to never ask, Ranthia.” He paused to performatively clear his throat. “As one of the god-made, I retain full rights to the curse’s origin and details due to the legal precedent set by the Council in the year 1536. They probably never intended this, but meeeeh, that’s on their lack of imagination. When White Dove appeared, she cursed me and my peers with arrogance. We would take inordinate pride in whatever mundanity we accomplish and so on and so forth. Mental effects are really hard to work around, as you presumably know from your own Companion Bond, but it—thankfully—can be worked within. The better adjusted of us have found something we can truly take pride in and focus ourselves on that. Not going to say it’s easy to do that, but it does make a difference. Probably also helps to have your pride kicked in a few hundred times in horrific and brutal ways that haunt your nightmares and thoughts, but yeah, that unfriendly bird isn’t exactly one of those newfangled [Mind Healers] and I’m definitely not going to recommend seeking that out. Anyhow, you are now read in, and the Wardens can’t say a thing about it. Unless you talk about it with a non-elf. You’re welcome. Or my apologies. One of those.”

Wait, what?! Ranthia blinked several times as she just tried to process the words and her own emotions—she had spent hours, likely days, crafting her theories and had been careful to never directly mention the curse or her own thoughts. And Ranger just… blurted everything. Because he was pretty sure he had the right to do so, based on something that was decreed roughly three and a half thousand years ago?!

Her own fears aside—it wasn’t like she had any specific reason to disbelieve he had the right to do… well, what he already did—the curse itself was still surprising. For over one hundred and twenty-eight years she had firmly believed that the elven curse was the pursuit of perfection. It beautifully explained a lot of what she’d seen from elves both young and old. The young and the foolhardy acted as if they were already perfect and infallible, while the more mature people that she met struggled desperately to improve. The fact that all of that was mere pride just felt… cheap.

Anthelleon’s struggles to turn away from her orderly, predictable combat style and truly embrace chaos. Neyvern’s inability to demonstrate emotional complexity except through song. All of Sylphene’s pain and suffering through her fanatical adherence to the great machination and her deep-seated self-loathing. And even Sunny’s struggles to fit in with society while she desired to remain true to herself. Was all of that truly just nothing more than arrogance?!

“Eh, she’ll probably get over it.” Ranger shrugged and turned back to Sylphene. “Okay, back to you—most of your problems stem from a single bad decision. Does that help you figure it out?”

Sylphene finally decided that it did not at almost the very same moment Ranthia finally escaped her own thoughts and set aside her lingering questions.

“I hate spelling things out; it feels like it sucks all the fun out of life. Buuuut, I also don’t want to waste a week waiting for you to realize the answer or spend time coming up with a bunch of subtle hints. Fine.” Ranger was almost openly pouting as he exchanged the branch he was holding for Sylphene’s bow.

“It wasn’t bad. Wood from a jeweled tree isn’t really worth the price, but I do get why amateurs think it’s impressive. You clearly put a lot of work into maintaining it as well, even though you outgrew this bow a millennia ago. And I know that you know you did, because these enchantments and gemstones were added far more recently. Let me guess, shots pull ever so slightly to the left?” Ranger turned the bow in his hands as he spoke.

“Yes, though I believe that I correct for that accurately.” Sylphene was torn between her respect for the elf and her inclination to defend herself.

“Mhm, you learned that over time. Too bad it’s all for nothing. I like this ornament though. Did it come from the Dungeon too? Neat—remind me to ask you about how you got there and what it’s like these days.

“But, refocusing on what’s important. Your instincts and habits were thrown off by your own alterations. You changed the bow’s structure as you cut away material. Alas, this is one of many weapons that I’ve seen that was once decent.” Ranger sighed and shook his head.

“But no longer.” And with those simple words, he twitched his fingers ever so slightly.

And snapped Sylphene’s bow in half.

Ranthia expected Sylphene to scream and rage against the act of utter cruelty, but her Gemheart merely froze as she stared at her ruined weapon. Ranthia still tried to reach her lover to offer some comfort or sympathy, though she found herself halted by a gesture from Ranger—even if she wasn’t quite sure why she let that stop her.

“That bow was over a thousand and twenty-four years old! She fought side-by-side with her deceased sister with that bow!” Well, she let it stop her feet, at least. Her mouth had never cared much for the whims of the powerful.

“And if I hadn’t done that, she would have kept it as a backup weapon, no matter how many times I told her not to.” Ranger shook his head, as he forcefully returned the ruined bow to Sylphene’s hands and reclaimed his branch. “The wood within was already cracked. A half-decent bow could have withstood the force I used just then. That final shot she made proved it. She wanted every bit of power she could muster, but she was favoring the bow’s safety. There was a limit to how much she wanted to flex it, to minimize the harm of its recoil. Sooner or later—and most likely sooner—it would have broken on her anyway, in the middle of a crisis. It would have gotten someone killed.”

The words were reminiscent of those Hunting once told her, long ago—“Weapons come and go, in our line of work it’s best to never get attached to ‘em.”—but there was something petty and cruel about destroying the weapon that carried so many memories, just to prevent a problem.

“He is right, my love. I first heard and felt worrying signs from the bow before I even met you. I learned to use it carefully since then, but I continued to use it, nonetheless. I often considered replacing it with another bow, yet I continued to find excuses not to do so. This was for the best.” Sylphene spoke up, using that same damned false-serene tone she used every single time she tried to emotionally wound herself or seek punishment and judgment.

And with that, Ranger’s wishes became even less important than they already were. Ranthia rushed to embrace her elf and hugged her tightly.

“<The weapon doesn’t matter. Those memories live on inside of you, and its wielder is far more important than any bow could ever be. Ranger can be… a bit thoughtless, but he isn’t evil. He wouldn’t have done this without a plan.>” Ranthia’s heart wasn’t in the words, even if she believed them to be true. And they were probably better for Sylphene to hear than simple commiseration—they could always indulge in that once they possessed both privacy and hindsight.

“She is right, you know. I mean, yes, I called myself quite possibly evil earlier, but that was a joke. I probably should have clarified that? But I do have a plan! This is your new backup bow. Or at least its successor will be once we figure out what type of bow really suits you. And you’re definitely going to mess this one up while you learn the art of bowyers.” Ranger held the tree branch above his head flat on his palm as if he was demonstrating it to some unseen eye in the sky—well, Ranthia was mostly sure he didn’t know one of her [Divine Eyes] was almost in exactly the right place for that—before he resumed speaking.

“And like I said, backup—I’ll be crafting your main bow when the time comes. You’ve used a youth’s bow like a somewhat short simple bow, but that isn’t ideal. And believe it or not, I do make a habit of keeping up with innovations in bow making. I myself was responsible for more than a few of those, you know. I’ll be teaching you all you need to be a bowyer capable of turning good wood, and other necessary materials, into a bow almost as fine as the one I eventually craft for you.”

Sylphene gave Ranthia a quick, grateful kiss before she freed herself from Ranthia’s arms and stepped closer to Ranger. “Thank you. I do not know how I can ever repay such a kindness.”

“Oh, just you wait. I haven’t even begun to be kind!” Ranger offered what he probably intended as a mischievous grin, though it somehow came off as uncomfortably sleazy. “And due to this profound kindness of mine, I’ll be as gentle as possible with my next criticism. Your class is awful. Like, zero out of ten in terms of both theory and execution. Seriously, did you borrow that idea from someone that believes that hitting something with a slab of metal is the peak of combat?”

“It proved effective in the Dungeon.” Sylphene’s ears colored at the accusation—in large part because he was exactly right.

[Tunneling Arrows] was inspired by Bialldra’s own Spatial attacks.

“It’s… ugh, I hate even saying this word in this context, but it’s okay at helping you punch up a bit; your shots are definitely faster with it. But when Ranthia named you a Spatial [Archer], I got excited—had I known the element existed, I would have chosen it myself for at least one of my classes. Too bad it only cropped up well after my own style and build was solidified. I can be really stubborn. But you, you’re just using Spatial to make the distance between your bow and your target shorter, which means more of the power hits them and there’s less travel time. That’s okay, but ‘okay’ just isn’t a great use for the element. If you want mere power from a straight shot, go for Gravity or Gale. Personally, I don’t recommend settling for mere straightness. It’s boring!

“I’m going to take a step back and explain something basic. Some people—Challan, for example—say that [Mages] are the ultimate ranged class and that archery has no place in a meaningful build. This is because Challan and anyone that listens to them misunderstands something fundamental. Namely, that the System reinforces what is already there. It isn’t power. It is, to borrow a term from Taylores, a force multiplier. Literally, it multiplies existing force. We see this day to day with our stats. Good chance Ranthia over there has more dexterity and speed than you do—by the numbers—but you’re an elf, so you have the advantage in execution. A good force multiplier can do a lot, but it can do more with a solid foundation.

“No matter their element, a conventional attack [Mage] has to provide every bit of force and energy behind their attacks. But an [Archer]’s attack Skills are different—we’re amplifying the power our bows impart. And with the right materials and high strength, they can impart a lot of power. So why would you waste your Skills just to provide a touch more power and speed?

“Young lady, think on a grander scale! You know what a Spatial [Archer] conjures in my head? Someone that can ruin the day of pretty much any adversary. Picture this: an arrow zipping between tiny portals just out of reach, accelerating as it does. They can’t predict when or where it’ll hit, which makes it harder for them to respond to pretty much anything else. And why fire an arrow in a straight line when you could teleport it right behind their neck as it leaves your bow? Spatial is the ideal single-class element for archery—if you can get enough Skill compression in there. And someone with your experience? Yeah, we can make this work.

“With the System, you’ve got to reach for the stars. Reject anything simple. Refuse to be straight. Your ambition is rewarded by the System when you make strides toward it. Aim lofty and you’ll achieve grander heights. Just like your ladyfriend there has.” Ranger had paced throughout his entire lecture, but he ended it right in front of Sylphene’s face and, in the lingering silence that settled over them in the aftermath of his words, he gazed directly into her eyes.

Challenging her.

At first, Sylphene backed away from the intensity of his gaze, but her eyes found Ranthia’s own—even through her blindfold. And with that, Sylphene inhaled through her teeth and nodded, turning her gaze back to Ranger’s as she leaned forward once again.

“Very well. It is as you say—I pledged that I would become worthy of standing at her side. If that requires me to become more than I am, I shall. My sincere gratitude for your counsel. You have given me much to consider.” She held his gaze throughout her speech.

“Hm, yeah, I have. But I think you’re kind of missing my point. I’m not asking you to mull over anything, young lady. I’m telling you to do it. Hey Ranthia, how many levels does she need to reset her archery class?” Ranger kept his gaze fixed on Sylphene’s as he grinned.

“Three.” Ranthia replied automatically. Seriously, why was he asking her and not Sylphene?

…Wait, how had he even known that she could see that much information?!

“Alright!” Ranger stepped backwards and finally broke eye contact as he produced a wooden bow from one of his Spatial storage items and effortlessly strung it. “This longbow was the eighth one I made, and the oldest I have left. A simple longbow made using wood from a yew. It carried me from level 463 to level 1,321—busy years, those—at which point I finally figured out a better replacement. But that doesn’t matter. This bow is as straightforward as straightforward gets. You get two attempts to make a shot that impresses me. If you fail, I’ll keep the promises I’ve made so far, I just won’t do anything else for you.”

“And if I succeed?” Sylphene asked as she reverently accepted the bow.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Ranger winked at her as he walked backwards, raising his hands to catch the arrows, wiggling his fingers like he was trying to entice a playful cat.

Sylphene allowed a smile to touch her lips as she drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked the bow, though she spent several moments testing how the bow flexed as she drew it before she seriously took her stance.

“Footwork is good, but you’re overcorrecting your posture—don’t lean backwards like that, take a more natural position. Your lower back will thank you.” Ranger chided as he finally came to a stop, at the far end of the clearing they had moved to.

Sylphene adapted and promptly loosed. [Tunneling Arrows] remained inactive, likely because Ranger had made his stance on the Skill quite clear, but Ranthia could tell that her lover’s Passive Skills were in full effect. The arrow flew straight and true, up until the moment Ranger snatched it out of the air.

“Next!” He called, offering no further commentary.

[Mage – Spatial] level 766. Two levels away from the class up…

In solemn silence, Ranthia watched as Sylphene adjusted her grip on the bow slightly and nocked her arrow. Her lover’s musculature was usually subtle, but every time she drew the longbow, the power concealed within her lean figure revealed itself. It was a beautiful display of just how much more the weapon demanded of her than her former bow ever had.

And when Sylphene released the string, the air cracked—louder than the previous shot.

Ranger caught the arrow, less than a finger’s width away from the center of his throat.

[Mage – Spatial] level 768.

“Yeahhh, okay, I’ll pass that. You proved that you actually can learn and adapt, and that’s good enough for me! Now hurry up and reset your class!” Ranger ordered.

Not a class up. He wanted to rework Sylphene’s class from scratch!

“Very well.” Sylphene started to close her eyes.

“Wait!” Ranthia shouted her desperate interruption.

Thank Xaoc, both elves glared at her.

“She has a storage Skill. And there will be questions if we haul a cartload of supplies back home.” Ranthia rolled her eyes—seriously, why was she stuck being the reasonable one?!

“Fine, I can wait. I guess. Just run and hurry up and get back here!” Ranger grumbled, waving them off.

“Running would also draw attention.” Sylphene offered her own note of protest.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have a plan.” Ranthia’s own smile was utterly devoid of shame or mercy.

“Come on, you can move faster than that! I said run! Those stairs are impatiently waiting for you to climb them! So, what are you waiting for?!” Sure, it had been decades since Ranthia had last played the role of a hell months instructor for Clover and Verity, but scant decades really didn’t matter in an immortal city.

No one was surprised. And aside from a few bits of (presumably) well-meaning heckling, the elves largely ignored the duo as they rushed through the city.

“That was mortifying, my love.” Sylphene was less than pleased about Ranthia’s brilliant plan, for some strange reason.

“I acknowledge that in truth you could run circles around me. Though we will have to do that again on our way back out.” Ranthia was still enjoying herself. “<But seriously, Gemheart, you are sure this is what you want? Ranger can be a bit pushy, even if he doesn’t mean to.>”

“<I… Yes, I am, my love. I hardly expected this to happen, of course, but I would be a fool to pass it up. I am tired of discovering that I have only taken half-measures to accomplish what I intend to do. And the opportunity to learn any lessons that he might impart is invaluable. Things are moving quickly, but I shall keep up. I must.>” Sylphene paused long enough to consider and answer the question, delivered a quick kiss to Ranthia’s cheek, then rushed off anew.

While Ranthia gathered supplies to roast up some candied nuts—one of Ranger’s favorite snacks—Sylphene remained focused on blurring throughout their home as she stowed items. There was presumably some deeper reason why she wasn’t just leaving an expedient pile on the floor, but Ranthia chose not to ask. She just tried to stay out of her lover’s way while she gathered the items she needed for their revised plans.

Because rather than trying to sneak out of the city each day, they would be camping in the woods alongside Ranger until he finally got bored of them and disappeared.

“Ranthia, did she reset as I asked her to?” Once again, Ranger chose to ask Ranthia instead of Sylphene.

“Of course she did, you saw the lights for yourself.” Ranthia grumbled. She still had opinions—quite negative ones—about how the System covered anyone in their world within with pretty glowing lights. A literal shining beacon to announce when someone was incredibly vulnerable and easily murdered!

Sylphene nodded her own agreement, seemingly unbothered by Ranger’s distrust.

“Lights can mean anything, but if she did, well, good-good! Now, who’s ready to experience the breadth of bows?!” Ranger spread his arms wide as he grinned.

“I am.” Against Ranthia’s expectations, Sylphene was actually humoring him as she moved closer!

Ranthia herself shrugged and approached as well, sitting on an overturned bucket. She wasn’t much of an [Archer]—[I am the Priestess; I am the Champion] and its predecessors gave her basic proficiency, but precious little else. Still, she was curious to see just how different elven archery could be.

“Longro, the bow I previous lent you, is an example of a simple bow. These were the earliest bows anyone figured out—a straight piece of wood, shaped as the [Bowyer] believed to be best, then strung with something fibrous. We used dried and prepared vines a lot in the early days, followed by braided animal hairs. But bowstrings aren’t really relevant right now, so I need to focus. Shame on me.

“Your own weapon was another example, at one time. Of simple bows, I mean. Even if the design’s outmoded, it’s easy to make and use, which makes it popular with newcomers to archery. It’s reasonably sturdy and the power depends on how far the bow can flex without breaking—well, I say that, but flex imbuing the power is the case for pretty much every bow. Though the details of how it flexes and how much power it can store does change. Barring a lack of decent wood, simple bows mark the lower end.” Ranger shrugged before producing a different bow from some Spatial storage device hidden away on his person.

Instead of being an arch, like almost every bow Ranthia had ever seen, the tips of the new weapon’s arms curved away from the string. Or at least it did before Ranger strung it, once again making the task seem effortless. As Ranger turned the weapon in his hands before offering it to Sylphene, it was easy to spot that there were multiple layers of material in the bow.

“At your level, no simple bow is really worth considering. You’ll never get as much power as you can from a more modern design. This is the bow I want you to practice with first, Wraith. She’s a recurve that was made by my foremost apprentice, the goddess of archery herself, Arro—and no, that wasn’t her original name, but Arberry would yell at me if I told you her real… Ah. Moving on. Recurves were also independently developed by a few other people, though we’re mostly sure she was the first to do so.

“A recurve can store far more power as it flexes as compared to a simple bow. This actually makes them viable as short bows, though of course longer arms still offer more power. Once you get used to Wraith, I’ll let you try a shorter version—we’re trying to find what works for you, not the platonic ideal of bowkind.

“Recurves can be made from a single piece of wood, if you know what you’re doing, but I prefer to make composite bows. At a minimum, that means using a different core than the outer wood, but some of them can get a bit more wild, as you’ll see in a moment.” Ranger paused for a moment before he produced yet another bow.

…Assuming it was a bow. The thing looked more like a broken ring than a proper bow, but sure enough Ranger hooked a string on one end and carefully finagled the bow into shape before he hooked the string on the opposite end.

“This is the style I replaced Longro with. Meet Reft. I call this style of bow a reflex bow and created it myself, though I will readily admit that I was inspired by a mortal—a goblin, actually—[Bowyer] that did the exact opposite thing to ease the strain on the low-quality wood he and his people had access to. Reft was the shortest bow I ever used for any significant period of time, in large part because even with springwood and corewood, I struggled at the time to avoid breaking his longer kin.

“Once you’re used to the recurve and its quirks, I’ll let you try Reft. But I’ll admit that reflex bows are a bit fragile unless you have the strength to draw one made using ironwood.” With that, he unstrung and stored the bow.

“It sounds as if a recurve is my best option?” Sylphene asked.

“Probably and possibly, but I’m not here to dictate anything. Ideally, I want you to get a feel for everything that I can give you time with, to find what feels right in your hands. We can adjust your bow’s size, shape, and details to suit you, naturally, but we need to find what comes closest using existing examples first. There is one exception though: the crossbow. I own a couple, but I’m just not an expert at them. I get how they work, I’m just really not fond of the design principles behind them—I prefer a weapon that I define, not the other way around. Moving on… There is one other type of bow I haven’t shown you yet. Ranthia, I’ll need your help to demonstrate Horn.” Ranger beckoned her over with an utterly unrestrained grin.

Soon enough, she found herself standing behind Ranger, holding a metal plate that bore a large amazonite charged gemstone and some of the most simplistic engravings Ranthia had ever seen on an enchantment. Once she applied mana to the enchantment, the air around them immediately grew far drier, which made it quite an atypical application of the Mist element.

“A bit higher? Okay, good. Sorry, this guy is temperamental.” With those words, Ranger passed his hand over his heart, and a positively gargantuan bow promptly appeared. Immediately, he raised the oversized weapon overhead, pointing the pre-strung monstrosity straight up at the sky.

“Horn is what I’m tentatively calling a complex bow and might just be the most valuable weapon on Pallos. Well, other than the remaining divine weapons that were made by gods, of course. Corewood, reinforced with the willingly given horn and sinew of a four-thousand-year-old dragon. You’ll note the central grip is a single piece of carved horn—not even I can flex it. Instead, the corewood and sinew arms are all that move, and there’s a layer of horn embedded within the tip of each, to control how it flexes.” Ranger produced an arrow and nocked it, before drawing the bow back. He generally didn’t show much skin between his armor and the plentiful leaves that clung to his frame, but even as covered as he was, it was clear that it demanded a lot of his near-divine strength to hold the bow drawn.

“How on Pallos did you get dragon sinew willingly?” Ranthia stared in awe.

“Heh, well, let’s just say there’s a particularly dangerous black dragon out there that isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. I won’t say or even write her name because she is petty, and I’d rather not invite her ire. Again. I really don’t want to get into the story for the same reason; let’s just say I once saved a different dragon from her fury and was richly rewarded, okay?

“Okay! So, the only string that could possibly survive this draw was dragon sinew. Seriously, I tried so many other things. Come closer and try to grab and move the string while I’m holding it like this.” He paused until Sylphene had both hands wrapped around the string on one side, while Ranthia had a single fist on the other. “See, can’t budge it, can you? If I loosed the arrow, you’d both be losing fingers, and you probably wouldn’t even offer enough resistance to foul my aim. And if I lost my grip on the bow right now, let me tell you, I’d be surprised if either of you survived the whiplash! Haha…ha… Yeah, you should probably both let go and step back a bit while I relax the string.”

A far more sheepish Ranger—covered in a visible sheen of sweat—finally stowed the weapon after spending almost a full minute gradually returning the string to its neutral position.

“Well, inadvisable actions aside, I think that was informative!” He announced with more than a little forced cheer.

After that, he set Sylphene to target practice with the recurve named Wraith while Ranthia busied herself with roasting up some candied nuts for the half-feral elf.

Ranthia spit a bit of blood out, largely unbothered by her split lip. She could replace her body later.

“How in Xaoc’s glory did I ever manage to bruise you with a single punch back then?” After all, her sparring partner was utterly unblemished despite several minutes of genuine effort!

“I was hardly expecting it at the time. And I was in the process of bending over to kiss you when your fist connected with my jaw. Here, I move with your blows to mitigate the harm, much as you do. I am just slightly better at it.” Sylphene replied with a breezy tone and a somewhat forced smile.

The day had come to an end three hours prior. Ranger had managed to consume a week’s worth of candied nuts in a single sitting and settled in for the night, but Sylphene still needed to adapt to her lost stats. Ranger had forbidden her from classing up past [Elven Disciple] until he gave her permission. And her prior experience with resets could only mitigate the adaptation process so much.

Sparring was Ranthia’s suggestion, of course—she’d been meaning to find a way to ask her lover to demonstrate more of her hand-to-hand combat proficiency anyway. Her own was a blend of a brawler’s habits, a few half-baked lessons from her fellow Adventurers, and the brief time the Ranger Academy spent on unarmed combat. Which made Sylphene’s flexible combat style all the more appealing. If she could incorporate the subtle movements Sylphene used to unbalance opponents…

Well, if nothing else, she was getting a first-hand reminder of just how effective it could be. She was getting her own hits in, of course, but even with the wyvern blood bolstering her flesh, Sylphene was still vastly more resilient. Which was good—she didn’t have to feel guilty about throwing a punch at her beautiful face!

“But—!” Sylphene was trying to protest.

“We should be glad he gave us the full eight days. I only ever got that once.” Ranthia deadpanned.

“That’s mostly on you for being boring and not plying me with ample quantities of sweet, sweet nuts. I think you should try roasting them with rosemary next time, by the way.” Ranger shamelessly answered, layering in a request as he did.

…Actually, yeah, that sounded pretty good.

“I need more time. Please, there is so much more that I hope to learn from you.” Sylphene flashed Ranthia an irritated look between her sentences, as she tried to make her case.

“I agree! You’ve been a better pupil than some. And, as such, I want to make you an offer that you can refuse. Don’t answer me now, unless the answer is yes, but I’m planning to take care of a few things that I need to do. I’ll be gone for sixteen… wait, no, I also needed to speak to Taventis about a better way to mount that enchanted ornament of yours—make that twenty-four days. And when I get back, well, I won’t be sticking around. Got a craving to get out of the Tympestshard Council for a while, see how other forests and woodlands are faring, you know?

“So, I invite you to join me. When I swing back by, I mean. I don’t think you want to follow me to yell at the Wardens’ leadership so they’ll leave me alone for a while. Unless you’re into that kind of thing, I guess, but I probably can’t recommend it with your whole living under an alias bit. But hey, after I’m done with that, we’ll travel properly. See more of the wider world, encounter new and alarming cuisines, and maybe find an ephemeral dose of happiness or two!

“Oh, and just a biiiit of incentive.” Ranger grinned, holding his fingers close together. “I plan to make you my official apprentice if you accept.”

“I…” Sylphene’s enthusiasm was bright, yet brief. After the first syllable, her uncertainty overwhelmed her, leaving her looking increasingly distressed as her emotions conflicted.

“So long as you don’t mind me tagging along, we’d be happy to.” Ranthia cut in, before Ranger lost patience. It was perfect!

“My love—!” Sylphene balked.

“Great! Just be packed and ready to travel when I get back. I’ll leave Wraith with you for now, so keep practicing in my absence! If you haven’t improved—without the System’s influence—I will be both excessively and severely disappointed.” Ranger blew past Sylphene’s concerns. “And with that, I’m off!”

Ranthia wasn’t even slightly surprised when the man blurred into the distance, almost immediately disappearing from her senses.

At least twenty-four days to prepare gave them ample time. She had a lot to get done… once she reminded her distressed lover about her own desire to explore Pallos.