Pant... 

Pant... 

Pant....

"W-wait… please, s-stop… Time out! Time out!" I gasped, struggling to catch my breathe as I fell on my bottom.

"No way, that wasn't hard to get you tired? Should I remind you of all those cheesy lines you spewed out this morning?" Rowan teased with a smirk.

"Ugh... Please. This is too much. We've been running all morning. How much have we even covered?" I huffed, my lungs still burning.

"Almost seven miles. And we got just one more mile to go."

"... You promise?" I asked doubtfully.

"Sure, then we just need to head back... So let's say another eight miles?"

I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn't decide whether to laugh at my earlier bravado or cry at my current misery.

'Why... Why did I open my big mouth this morning?'

Earlier, Rowan had asked about my training back home. I told him — perhaps too enthusiastically — about my stigmata, my bragging about how hard I trained, and how people once called me a genius.

Now, I regret every word of it.

Still, I already decided to trust Rowan. He had already saved my life once, and so I truly didn't believe he had any ill intentions.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, we finally arrived at Rowan's cottage.

"Take a rest. We'll start archery training in a bit," he said casually.

"Archery? Me? I've never even touched a bow before." Honestly, I was quite shocked by his words.

"That is exactly why you're going to learn. If you want to win the competition, you'll need everything you can use—swordsmanship, spearmanship, and yes, even archery."

"...Alright," I nodded readily.

Truth be told, I wasn't against the idea. I was actually a little excited.

"And in addition to that," Rowan added, "You'll also learn how to hunt, cook, identify poisonous plants, make basic medicine, and even create weak poisons."

"Are those really necessary?" I asked, frowning.

I couldn't help but feel sceptical. I wanted levelling up, raising my stats—not cooking lessons.

"Yes, very much so," Rowan replied, his tone this time was rather serious. "These are more important than your weapons. You're still a kid, so you don't know how cruel the world can be. Remember, those 'little tricks' are what saved your life that day."

I couldn't really argue with that.

After some rest, he began teaching me the basics of bow handling. It didn't seem too difficult at first, but something felt off. 

Normally, after picking up a weapon, the corresponding passive skill would appear on my status like swordsmanship or spearmanship.

But this time, there were no signs of that 'Archery' status on my profile.

After completing his lesson on a few more topics, he took me to a hunting ground not far from the cottage — close enough, but a little hard to reach.

"What you learned is what a bow and an arrow are. What I'm trying to teach you is something different, it's real archery," Rowan continued, attempting to clarify my doubts.

"Oh? Now you got me really curious."

"It's good that you're motivated," he said, "But sadly, you won't be able to learn it anytime soon."

He stated, "It's an original technique— one only a handful of elves knew about. Even the creator of this technique couldn't fully master it. It takes at least two months to grasp 0.01%."

"Only that many know about it? Wouldn't that put us both at risk?"

If someone traced the technique back to Rowan, it could spell trouble for both of us.

"Don't worry. Besides me, only the Queen and the Princess of Edenheart could recognise it. Others might find it peculiar, but that's it."

"Only the Queen and the Princess?" I was surprised for a second. I often forget that this Rowan had royal blood in him, given how he behaved most of the time.

"Well... there are two other former disciples of mine. They're far away, though. Oh, and maybe my brother would recognise it too... not sure."

'Why does the list keep growing every time he talks?'

"So... what's the name of this mysterious technique?"

"Memories of Silence."

'A little dramatic... but cool.'

Elves were renowned for their archery, but creating an original technique? That was exceedingly rare. One in a million, if that.

"Wait a minute... Rowan, be honest—it's not you who created this technique, right?"

He looked at me and smirked.

"Y-you're joking, right? No matter how strong you are, that's a bit much. Wait... Don't tell me it's some scam technique!" I argued.

Without replying, he led me to the hunting grounds, though the same proud smile never left his face.

'This guy... Is he mocking me?'

The moment we arrived, the air shifted. I could hear birds chirping all around.

Rowan lowered his voice and whispered, "Listen carefully. I'll only say this once. Memories of Silence is an assassination technique. And the key here is silence. When used normally, it surpasses other archery methods, yes—but its full potential shines only during an assassination."

'Assassination... with a bow?' 

The image of silently killing a monster from the shadows, while wearing a hoodie that covered my face, flashed through my mind.

'I think I like this… a lot.'

Without another word, Rowan stepped forward and drew his bow. The presence around him changed completely.

The silence around him wasn't just... quiet— it was absolute. It was something that sharpened all your on your senses, something that made your own breathing sound too loud— a deadly yet elegant silence.

He slightly adjusted his stance, his eyes narrowed down, and slowly waited for something. What felt like eternity to me was only a second, and then I heard the sound.

Twang.

The arrow vanished into the distance, slicing through the air. 

And exactly at the same moment, a falcon dropped from a tree far ahead, a clean hole in its neck—but no arrow in sight. Strangely, the other birds on the same branch didn't even react.

I stood, mouth agape.

'How can simple archery look so... elegant?'

Rowan glanced at me. 

"That... is silence."

I squinted my eyes at his cheesy lines. 

"Don't say weird things. But c-can I try?" I asked.

"That's why we're here."

I raised the bow, nocked the arrow and tried to mimic Rowan's form as best I could. But even after I tried my best, I looked more like a caveman with a stick than an assassin with a bow.

'Something's definitely wrong here.'

Even though I could clearly remember Rowan's posture, I couldn't replicate it.

Still, I continued and aimed at the nearest bird.

Twang.

Nothing.

No bird was hit, no leaves fell.

"Did I miss it?" I asked, still searching for where my arrow went.

"You didn't miss."

"What?"

"You didn't shoot either."

I looked down—and there the arrow was, lying at my feet.

"...Why?" I exclaimed in shock. I knew I couldn't do it on the first try, but this...

"I told you. You need at least a month or two to learn 0.01%."

"..."

Still, I didn't give up. I didn't want to.

I picked up another arrow and tried again, only to make the same mistake.

I tried again, then again, and again.

I kept trying until all the birds flew away, alarmed by my constant failure. But I kept shooting— again and again at the tree, the air, at anything.

At last, my arrows began to fly from the bow, but they were too clumsy, far too clumsy from the grace of Memories of Silence.

"That's enough for today. Let's go," Rowan said.

"You go. I'm staying a little longer."

"We're out of arrows. You'll need to make more from bamboo branches. I'll show you how later. Also, you still have sword and spear practice."

'Is this some new method of torture?'

"Hah... Fine. Let's go."

'Tomorrow for sure... I'll get it right.'

Later that day, Rowan trained me in both swordsmanship and spearmanship.

I'd hoped—naively—that he'd teach me another powerful named technique. Something on the level of Dance of the Dragon, the legendary technique of the fallen nobles, the Rosewood Family.

But no. 

What he taught was normal swordplay and completely basic spear forms.

And yet...

'This… This is just a basic technique? Why does it feel so different?'

Despite using the same techniques, I was getting completely overwhelmed. 

I gave my best. At least I tried to, with my still-injured body.

Only to be beaten up like he held a personal grudge against me from our past life. 

For a moment… I wondered if he'd actually stop if I collapsed.

I was bruised, battered, and utterly exhausted. 

I was already tired from pushing my body all morning, and this was making it much worse.

'They say if you commit misdeeds in life, you pay for them in hell. I'd like to revise that theory.'

"This right here... is the real hell."