Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Tamed Bow
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- …This is all. Please take care of your health.
He read to the last paragraph of the letter. He used to be a more straightforward friend back then, but he folded the letter paper plastered with embarrassingly sentimental worries and tucked it into his backpack.
"What letter is that?"
Guchi asked.
"It's from Million."
"Your expression was subtle the whole time you were reading it."
"It felt unfamiliar. I wondered if this was really written by the Million I knew. Back in the day, this guy only said what was absolutely necessary. It was even more pronounced when putting things into writing. But this letter... it's so overflowing with emotion it's almost embarrassing to read."
"People change once they have a kid. Everyone around me did."
Guchi picked up the boots he'd set down by the campfire.
"They're dry enough. Check yours too."
He reached out and grabbed his boots. The ones that had gotten wet crossing the shallow river had dried out somewhat. He slipped them on and stood up from his seat.
"Better to rest here for the night."
"No better spot than this even if we keep going. The vicious beasts don't come down this way much. Still, better check the surroundings just in case."
"Then I'll go gather some firewood."
"Don't go too deep inside. There might be ones that travel in packs."
Guchi, in the middle of explaining, waved his hand dismissively.
"Some advice from a guy who's smashed Magical Beasts, huh."
He gave a slight smile and headed into the woods. Thanks to the rain over the past few days, there were no dry branches to be found.
He gathered pine needles and thin twigs and returned to the campfire. He fed the twigs into the fire one by one.
Acrid smoke billowed up sharply. As he covered his mouth and coughed lightly, a sound came from behind. It was Guchi.
"Perfect for smoking meat if we had some."
In Guchi's hand was a giant leaf, with a dark clump on top. When he asked what it was, Guchi replied that it was shit.
"This is cliff wolf dung—nothing beats it for firewood."
Guchi dumped half the dung into the campfire. A pungent smell, hard to describe, wafted out. It was like failed cheese fermentation.
"The smell's something else, right?"
"Can't say it's good."
"The smell's foul, but the effect's great. When you burn cliff wolf dung, the odor shifts a bit and spreads far and wide. Animals won't come anywhere near after smelling it. It keeps the light-attracted bugs at bay too."
"Convenient."
"Survival trivia. You'll get used to the smell soon enough. Keep sniffing it, and it'll start smelling savory."
As Guchi said, the smell stopped bothering him after a while.
Guchi, who had been silently warming himself by the fire, picked up the long rod hanging from his backpack. It was a bowstave.
"Now that I think about it, I've never seen you shoot a bow, Guchi."
"If you want to see, partner up with me for a hunt. I'm always up for it—just say the word."
Guchi poured black oil onto a cloth and began spreading it over the bowstave.
"You've used it a long time?"
"Over ten years."
"Ten years? I thought bowstaves were consumables. Don't they warp and become unusable after a while?"
"Usually, yeah. Especially in the military you were in. But for folks like us, who eat and survive by this thing, doesn't it have to be special?"
Guchi held the oil-soaked bowstave and stood before the campfire. He positioned the tip in the flames and slowly rotated it. Like coating the entire wood in fire.
"I don't know the manufacturing method myself. It was made to my specs, but from material prep to shaping, it was all in the artisan's hands."
"If it passes through a skilled artisan's hands, even a bowstave can last over ten years. I didn't know that."
Guchi, having heated the bowstave, stepped back with a "that's good." The glossy black stave now gleamed a smooth brown.
"Give it a try."
Guchi tossed him the bowstave. The moment it landed in his palm and he gripped it, he let out a small exclamation.
It was firm yet supple. He bent it slightly with force. The springback was impressive. Hooking a string and drawing it would take more than ordinary strength.
"What's your take?"
"The moment I gripped it, I knew it was top quality. Never seen one like this. I've used bows a few times, but none with this kind of elasticity."
He handed the bowstave back. Not magically treated, yet unchanged after ten years. It was almost mystical.
"Truth be told, I wasn't thrilled when I first got it. Even thought it fell short of the hype. Then the artisan clicked his tongue like he'd read my mind and said, 'Tame it well for two months, and you'll get something worth satisfaction. Look forward to it.'"
Guchi examined the bowstave inch by inch as he spoke.
"Didn't look like something that'd improve with taming, but I couldn't argue, so I let it slide. First time stringing and drawing it, it felt all wrong in my hands. Stiff and off-kilter. Thought about refitting it, but decided to give it the full two months. And exactly two months later, I met my lifelong companion."
Guchi strung the bowstave. He gripped it with his left hand and drew the string with his right.
He could feel the solid power held in the smoothly bending stave. With a proper arrow, it would unleash tremendous force.
Guchi handed him the drawn bow to try.
He drew the string while seated. It was definitely different from any bow he'd used before. After a few more draws, he set the bowstave down.
"I don't think anyone but you could wield this properly, Guchi."
"You saw that right away—your instincts are no joke."
"I felt it when drawing. A subtle discomfort. Anyone could nock an arrow and shoot, but to use it precisely would take time. This stave has no fancy mechanisms, yet it's imprinted with all your habits."
"That's exactly why the artisan told me to tame it for two months. Surprising, isn't it? This layered-wood stave with no standout features molds itself to the user's style. Even my old partner, a bow master, couldn't handle this one."
"The one who made it truly deserves the title of artisan."
Guchi smiled contentedly. His lips twitched as if itchy, then he spoke.
"I kept it secret from others, but I'll tell you special. Fair's fair—I know a few secrets about you too."
"Looks like you just want to brag. Am I wrong?"
"Part brag, part that. Isn't bragging about having treasure the dumbest thing? Still, you want others to recognize it. Anyway, that artisan was..."
Guchi grinned with his eyes and clamped his mouth shut. His face said, 'Bet you're dying to know.'
He looked down at his palm. A name had come to mind the moment he gripped Guchi's bowstave. The maker was surely 'that person.'
"Isn't it Maestro Andukaf's work?"
Guchi blinked with his mouth agape, then furrowed his brow in mild annoyance.
"I was all set to brag, and you steal my thunder. How'd you know?"
"So it is his work."
"Since it is, spill—how'd you figure it out? His name's not engraved on it."
"Do you remember the conversation we had at Lewis's shop?"
"I do."
"About leaving my sword at the forge?"
"Of course. I mistook you for some naive villager and pried about your sword's origins. Still funny thinking back."
Guchi chuckled softly, then asked with a look of realization.
"Don't tell me that forge owner was..."
"Right. He made the sword I'd been using for years. I left it with him before leaving."
"No way—you know where he is?"
"Why else would I leave it there?"
"You're full of surprises the more I learn. They say Maestro Andukaf's Silent Forge isn't for just anyone. And calling it a forge? Isn't that underrating it?"
He recalled Andukaf's words from long ago. A place that works iron is a forge. Silent Forge, atelier, gallery—all fancy labels to puff themselves up.
"'Forge is fine.' That's what he said."
"I see. Doesn't like being praised like that, huh?"
"More like he couldn't care less."
"That's his personality."
Guchi fell silent, lost in old memories. He tossed a branch into the fire and said,
"Enough about me—tell me about you and Andukaf. How'd you meet him? He doesn't leave the forge outside scheduled hours."
"Exactly twelve years ago. I was just past thirty, or maybe late twenties—around there. Full of vigor back then. Ambition piercing the skies. First time in uncharted territory too."
Guchi rested the bowstave on his knee.
"Teamed up with a newly independent Roppa partner and four other hunter teams heading the same way. All young, full of confidence in our skills. Heard of Korn Lake?"
He nodded. It bordered the Weeping Mountains, classified as uncharted territory.
"We looped the entrance of the Weeping Mountains and reached Korn Lake. Saw all the rare animals we wanted on the way. Couldn't hunt 'em, but just sighting them built knowledge and experience. That's when it happened—our guard slipped. Even talk like 'uncharted territory's no big deal.' But that mindset flipped quick. How do you not change when people are dying beside you?"
According to Guchi's continuing story, the area around Korn Lake was a massive trap.
Plants that showed no sign on entry suddenly spewed poison, and invisible tiny bugs stole lives.
Hunters who preyed on the visible were helpless against the unseen.
"You've been to uncharted territory too, right?"
"Yes."
"You get the vibe I'm talking about."
"Felt like the whole area turned hostile, attacking us. Even lifeless rocks and tree roots felt like a besieging army."
"Exactly. Horrifying. Took less than two days for our near-twenty team to dwindle to ten. We survived thanks to the wise Roppa's handling, but bad luck—she died too. Team splintered, and I got separated in the chaos. Accident. Everyone scattered, and I thought it was just death waiting now."
Guchi gripped the bowstave tightly as he spoke.
"Met a knight in black armor and an old man. The old man clicked his tongue the moment he saw me. 'Young folks these days scout their graves from afar,' he said."
Guchi said his legs still shook thinking back.
"Strange sight. A knight and an old man. Uncharted territory—what is it? Even army units risk their lives, yet these two appear casually, like out for a stroll."
(To be continued in the next installment)