Chapter 32
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Handmade Arrows
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“Ruyan, you awake?”
Alize flung open the door without even knocking.
But Ruyan, having already sensed her approach, merely lifted his head slightly, utterly unfazed.
“Is it departure time already?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s waiting downstairs. You’re the last one.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll head down soon.”
Ruyan replied calmly while hurriedly wrapping up his work.
“What’s all that? You carving something?”
Alize stared blankly at the wooden block in Ruyan’s hand and cocked her head.
“I was making arrows.”
“You can just buy them from the blacksmith. Why bother making your own?”
“Better this way.”
Ruyan answered indifferently once more, dividing the finished arrows into two quivers.
He had slaved away all night, yet only managed twenty arrows.
Making arrows was that delicate and time-intensive a task.
‘Even in the Central Plains, specialist bowyers were exceedingly rare.’
Before the Divine Bow’s rise, the undisputed king of weapons in the Central Plains had been the sword.
For newcomers to martial arts, the bow hadn’t even been on the table.
Only after the Divine Bow’s dominion spread did bow wielders become a common sight—but that held true solely in the Central Plains.
‘Tch. Still, the Central Plains fares better than this place?’
The Sobles Continent’s reality was even more pathetic.
Bows were dismissed as lowly weapons for mana-less grunts.
With prejudices that entrenched, no true ‘bowyer’ worthy of the title could exist.
‘Selling those flimsy twigs as arrows, of all things.’
In the end, Ruyan had no choice but to craft them himself.
In truth, it was a hobby he’d pursued for years back in the Central Plains, nothing novel.
‘Worried my skills had rusted, but thankfully they held up.’
For an overnight job, the results pleased him greatly.
Common arrows used pine or bamboo, but Ruyan opted for hinoki cypress—a peculiar choice.
Hinoki was softer than most woods yet highly moisture-resistant, minimizing rot.
Oil it up and give it a light roast over flame, and its strength and springiness improved, rendering the arrows virtually permanent.
He balanced them perfectly with three owl feathers at the nock.
Owl feathers’ serrated fringes cut air resistance and noise during flight.
Undoubtedly top-shelf goods unseen on the Sobles Continent.
‘No more fretting over snapped arrows for a while.’
As Ruyan packed them away with satisfaction, Alize shook her head in feigned disapproval.
“You’re one of a kind, you know that? Where’d you even get the materials?”
“Took a quick trip to the mountains last night. You knew, right?”
Ruyan’s retort left Alize flinching in genuine fluster.
“W-what’re you talking about?”
“You were up, weren’t you? Peeking from the window.”
“Eek! How’d you know?”
“Assumed you were staring openly. Or was it a sneaky peek?”
“Sneaky? I’m not that type!”
“Good enough.”
Ruyan dropped it and exited first, descending the stairs.
Flustered, Alize hurried after him, eyes blazing.
“I wasn’t peeking! You bolted out late at night—it was suspicious, that’s all.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Ruyan’s flat tone irked Alize; she puffed her cheeks and narrowed her eyes.
“Seriously though, you only grabbed arrow stuff out there in the dark?”
“Strolled a bit too.”
Not a lie.
To Ruyan, toying with the Black Lion Knights had been mere exercise.
Cage would’ve spat blood seeing this nonchalance.
“Nighttime jaunts. Must be nice. You’ll walk your legs off soon enough anyway.”
Clueless to the truth, Alize trailed him with a pout.
Thus began Ruyan’s inaugural mercenary commission.
This expedition came straight from Trvente’s lord.
Monsters prowled the empire-central-to-north trade route, hammering merchants hard.
Bored of plain trekking perhaps, Eric muttered offhandedly.
“Great for our coin purses, but why’s the lord always so spendthrift?”
“Knights too precious to send that far. They don’t idle and gorge like you daily.”
Eric bristled briefly at Alize’s snap, but she wasn’t wrong.
Alize’s crew targeted two monster lairs: goblins thirty kilometers out, then ogres another thirty beyond.
Knight orders couldn’t abandon village duties lightly—deployments like this strained them.
“Hate camping. Alize, no more expedition gigs, yeah?”
“Who’d say no? Best pay around.”
Camping grated on all, women Alize and Cloyang worst.
But the reward made it worthwhile.
Three gold flat!
Eight years’ groceries for paupers—a king’s ransom.
“Quit griping. Know how many crews groveled for this?”
Big bucks drew slobbering mercenaries aplenty.
Alize’s squad nabbing it proved their chops.
How long since departure?
Midday sun dipping revealed the highway’s end: a narrow trail.
‘Here we go for real.’
Unpaved meant man’s domain ended.
Ruyan squinted, scanning; predictably, Alize halted them.
“Eyes sharp, everyone. Monsters anytime now.”
Goblin turf still distant, but others lurked aplenty.
All nodded, pausing at her word.
“Let’s move proper.”
Twins first, packs hit dirt one by one.
Four piled soon, sparing Ruyan’s and Cloyang’s.
‘What’s this?’
Baffled, Ruyan watched mute.
Then shock: priest Cloyang shouldered them all.
Frailest hauling heaviest? Bizarre.
Yet her face showed no gripe.
She bound them mechanically, routine as breath.
“Ruyan, yours too.”
Swaddled in sacks, Cloyang outstretched to him.
“No. I’ve got it.”
Ruyan demurred; wide-eyed, Cloyang eyed Alize.
“Ruyan’s green, I guess. Leave him.”
Alize’s nod let Cloyang retract, group plunging trailward casually.
Ruyan trailed wordlessly.
Yet none offered Cloyang aid even deep in.
‘Cultural quirk? Inscrutable.’
Sweat sheeted Cloyang’s brow like downpour.
Even stoic Ruyan fretted now.
“Heavy?”
“Worried for me?”
Cloyang swabbed eye-sting sweat, beaming prettily—pitiful to Ruyan.
“You look beat.”
“Kinda, but gotta. My role.”
“Your role? Priest, right?”
“Yup. Dead weight if fight drops sudden.”
Finally it clicked for Ruyan.
‘Maximizing firepower, eh?’
Priest heals shine post-injury, not at kickoff.
Fighters crave featherweight, peak form always.
Thus, priest packs mule-duty aids scraps.
‘Explains the unpriestlike training.’
Daggers galore, rigorous drills—for stamina, not sanctity.
‘Pointless for me, though.’
Trinkets wouldn’t bog Ruyan.
Had she said, he’d have spared her solo toil.
Ruyan tsked wryly, reaching for her load.
But halted, breezed past.
Mind unchanged. Superfluous now.
“Loosen those straps ahead of time.”
Cloyang wiped sweat, glanced back—Ruyan strode ahead.
‘Huh?’
Puzzled, she hustled after.
One minute ticked; Alize’s hand flew up, freezing them.
“Stop! Something’s coming.”
Alert snapped Cloyang to frantic unbinding.
Spotting Ruyan idly toying fletchings, casual as ever.
‘He knew?’
Context screamed yes. Yet implausible.
Alize neared Sword Master tier.
Her senses elite in Trvente.
‘Beat her to it?’
Whole minute prior? Near mythic.
‘What gives? Luck?’
Cloyang squinted, appraising him head to toe.
Weirdo incarnate.
‘Mage’ lugging monstrous bow, youth veiled in forbidding aura.
Squad brimmed oddballs, but Ruyan? Singular.
‘Banters familiarly, yet irks not...’
Musing cut short: wayside brush thrashed, guttural screech.
“Keeek!”
Off-script monsters swarmed.
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