The Lost Art of the Bow
Alancia, who had been hugging the Golden Tree and weeping for a long while, finally managed to pull herself together. Realizing she had made a spectacle of herself in front of so many people, her face flushed red as if it might burst.
"Um... are you all right?"
"Y-yes. *sniff* I'm fine, of course."
Her eyes were swollen from how hard she had cried in such a short time, yet Alancia forced a composed expression onto her face. Far off, the elves were circling the Golden Tree, spinning round and round while singing and dancing some unknown song.
"Hand in hand—!!"
"Louder! Today is the joyful day the Golden Tree has returned to us!!"
"Sing to the merciful and great Sixth God!!"
The cheerful clack-clack of wooden clogs rang out across the plain.
...It was a rather peculiar form, but it was their own way of expressing their faith.
Opus Fallac deliberately averted his gaze from the elves. The Golden Tree standing in the middle of that mysterious group dance seemed—perhaps only his imagination—to be trembling with embarrassment.
"S-so *sniff* what are all these buildings?"
Her nose was redder than heated metal from all the crying, but Opus Fallac and the dwarves were not so inconsiderate as to point that out to her face.
Alancia looked at the three buildings positioned around the Golden Tree, centered upon it.
"Ah, those are—"
"The Great One made your living quarters and workplaces for you!"
Sedus Fallac stepped in front of Opus Fallac, who had been about to explain. The second brother's seasoned wit shone through; he was not about to let the eldest hog all the glory.
Opus Fallac's thick eyebrows twitched like waves, but Sedus Fallac merely snorted. If it annoyed him, he could come to the forge and settle it with a match. Like proper dwarves, they would decide things with iron and hammers.
After glaring for a moment, Opus Fallac let out a deep sigh and took a step back. There was nothing to gain by showing a power struggle in front of the new family members.
"When you say workplaces, what kind of work? Hunting? Herding? Or cultivation?"
"Uh... I'm not sure about that either. The Great One probably prepared things you're good at. It'd be faster to go in and see for yourself."
"I see."
Alancia nodded, took a moment to steady her breathing, then slowly stepped into the small building. From the outside it looked like nothing more than a tiny hut, yet the interior was surprisingly spacious.
Cobwebs piled in the corners spoke of long neglect, and simple tools covered in dust lined the walls here and there.
"This is..."
Even though it was her first time here, it felt familiar—as if she had been here a very long time ago. Was this feeling because her ancestors had worked in the Holy Land? Her heart beat a little faster.
Embracing that strangely exciting feeling, Alancia left the building with light steps. A premonition that everything would go well surged through her.
Surely everything would be perfect!
For the great Sixth God had accepted them!
Ba-bam—!
Weapon crafting for Bows is now available!
Finally!
The moment a single elf stepped into the bow workshop, the message appeared at once. Could there be a more welcome notification? A wave of pure elation washed over me.
When I closed my eyes, every miserable moment I had suffered for lack of a ranged dealer came flooding back.
All the pain and sorrow of parties full of nothing but slow-walking melee fighters—goodbye forever. I was finally advancing as a proud owner of a proper ranged dealer.
I searched the weapon list on the screen and found the D-grade Creaking Bow I had unlocked earlier. The mechanism for elves and dwarves would probably be similar.
If I craft it first, the elves should be able to make them on their own after that.
Just then, one of the elves who had been spinning madly around the Golden Tree staggered, wobbled into a small grove, and collapsed face-first. After flopping about for a moment, the elf stood up holding two thin twigs.
"Ugh... oof. Dizzy..."
I dragged the reeling elf over to the bow workshop. The moment the elf carrying the twigs entered, another message window appeared.
Ba-bam—!
The timing was perfect. I had the materials I needed; there was no reason to hesitate any longer.
I immediately used the two Thin Branches to craft a Creaking Bow.
A hammer appeared on the screen and a brief clanging sound rang out.
Ba-bam—!
Everything I needed was done. With the dwarves, crafting something once myself was enough for them to start making weapons on their own.
If I just wait a little, the message should appear, right?
I waited with a fluttering heart.
I waited, and waited, and waited some more—until I realized something had gone wrong.
What? Why isn't the message showing up?
On the screen the elves were still playing ring-around-the-rosy around the Golden Tree, while the rest just stood there blankly or... were eating grass? Why were they eating that?
An ominous feeling crept over me. Something was going seriously wrong—the same sensation as when you miss your bus stop by a long shot and look out the window at completely unfamiliar scenery.
Nah, it can't be...
A blazing red warning window appeared and slapped me with reality.
Beep—!
! Alancia has failed to learn the crafting of the Creaking Bow. !
※ Failure Cause: Loss of the elves' bow crafting and usage methods.
The elf who had come out of the workshop shook her head from side to side. The words on the warning window sank into my mind like an octopus's tentacles.
Elves had forgotten how to craft and shoot bows? Was that even possible? In fantasy, elves were practically synonymous with divine archers and master marksmen.
"...No, wait. Hold on a second..."
I dragged a hand down my face with a deep sigh. Unlocking the bow was useless if they couldn't make it. Was I supposed to craft every single one by hand and sell them myself?
The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. All the motivation drained out of my body.
Vrrrm—!
A short vibration brought another message. I moved my hand weakly and skimmed it with my eyes alone.
※ Solution: Can be resolved through continuous and steady direct crafting.
In the corner of the message a tiny Kenelm was drawn in a fighting pose, cheering me on.
...At least it wasn't completely hopeless, so a little energy returned. The small Kenelm's encouragement helped a bit too.
"Haaah—"
In the end, the method was simply to keep making bows until it worked. Right now, though, I had no materials left for bows.
I headed straight for the shop window.
Vrrrm—!
[WEB] Card payment of 15,000 won approved in full.
Hundreds of Thin Branches, bought with real cash, poured into my mailbox. Under normal circumstances I would never do something as insane as buying low-tier materials with money, but this time there was a genuine reason I had no choice.
With materials so plentiful they were practically overflowing, I crafted another Creaking Bow. The elf shook her head again.
Ba-bam—!
One more time.
Ba-bam—!
Again.
Ba-bam—!
Ba-bam—!
...
Ba-bam—!
After what felt like a little over ten times...
Ba-bam—!
Alancia can now craft the D-Grade Creaking Bow!
In the corner of the message a tiny Kenelm blasted a fanfare and congratulated me.
"..."
"..."
Silence settled over the Holy Land. At least, it did for the dwarves and Alancia.
"Hahaha—! Something's appearing in my head! In my head!"
"Sing even louder! The great grace of the Sixth God is pouring down upon us!"
The elves sang with even greater vigor and spun faster around the Golden Tree.
A single vivid image had been drawn inside their minds: bending a branch, shaving it, twisting it this way and that, stretching it long and joining the ends—until it became the shape of a bow.
The Great One had commanded the elves to make bows. That was what He desired.
As His servants, they ought to have moved at once and offered up a bow—
"I... I can't make this..."
Alancia spoke, her voice on the verge of tears. The moment the image rose in her mind, she knew instinctively.
It was not a matter of will or effort. She truly did not know how.
Ever since the elves' feet had been bound to the trees and they could no longer draw a bowstring, an immeasurable span of years had passed. Alancia herself had never shot a bow, and neither had her mother.
Elves lived long enough to watch a tiny sprout grow into a massive ancient tree, then watch that tree rot and fall so that a new sprout could rise from the same spot.
And across that much time, a bow they could not even shoot had become nothing more than a dust-covered ornament—nothing more, nothing less.
In such an endlessly long stretch of years, the gradual forgetting of how to use and craft a bow they could not handle was, in a way, only natural.
"..."
"..."
Only then did the elves sense the heavy atmosphere. They stopped circling the Golden Tree, quietly halted, and lowered their heads. Even the one who had been eating grass stood up straight and bowed deeply.
Among them, the one least able to lift her head was none other than Alancia herself.
Shame, embarrassment, self-loathing, regret... every negative emotion surged over her like towering waves. She felt ready to bite her tongue and die on the spot.
"Uh, well—what... huh..."
Faced with something he had never experienced in his life, Opus Fallac could not hide his fluster. He wanted to offer some comfort, yet he had no idea what to say.
For them, seeing something once meant they could naturally copy it. It was as natural to dwarves as breathing or drinking beer.
They simply did it and it worked—so why couldn't Alancia?
Suffocating silence stretched on.
The silence did not last long. The Great One showed them the form of the bow once more. Branch and bow shape rose in vivid detail inside their minds.
"...I don't know..."
Alancia spoke as if crawling, her face flushed to the point of bursting. After seeing it twice she felt she understood a little, yet if she were told to make one... she still lacked confidence.
The shape of the bow appeared in her mind yet again.
"...J-just one more time..."
One more time.
"...If I see it one last time for real, I think I can do it."
Again.
...
When roughly the tenth-something bow rose in her mind—
Alancia cried out with all her strength.
"Ah—aah!! I think I understand now!"
At last her face showed true comprehension. It was a pleasure similar to the moment something that had been tightly clogging her throat finally burst free.
In truth Alancia was experiencing pure rapture. Every detail of the bow was being engraved into her mind. Knowledge and wisdom she had never possessed welled up like a spring.
How to handle and maintain a bow, how to read and calculate the flow of the wind, methods of rapid fire and curved shots, how to work wood when crafting a bow... everything related to the bow was carved into her head.
This was the knowledge her ancestors had once enjoyed—and the very essence the elves rightfully had to reclaim.
"Come, let us go at once! I will show you what an elven bow truly is!"
With a voice full of confidence and a vigorous stride, Alancia entered the bow workshop.
Her hands, as if desperate to craft a bow that very instant, could not stay still for even a moment.