Chapter 38
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: No Romance in S-Rank Gates (3)
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The Divine Archer blessing has been passed down through generations, with only one recipient per era.
Tracing back to ancient times, it was the blessing bestowed upon the high elves of that age. What was once a natural talent they took for granted—the gift of the Divine Archer—faded with time and the erosion of their faith, transforming into a noble power granted to just one individual per generation.
After the Divine Archer of an era meets their end, a certain amount of time passes before the next one is naturally born. This unyielding flow of the blessing, never passing consecutively, is something no one can defy.
The blessing isn't inherited through childbirth. Nor is it granted by offering prayers. It simply chooses the era's hero from the World Tree.
And the Divine Archers of this era, infused with that noble power, were the 'twins.' It shattered the notion that only one could receive it, descending upon the young children who had always leaned on each other.
Two elves who lost their parents early in the interspecies wars. On that battlefield where they lost their parents, they also lost their sight and hearing together. From that tender age, deprived of protection, the children trusted and cared only for each other.
They served as eyes for what the other couldn't see, ears for what the other couldn't hear. Complementing each other's lacks, they carried on with life.
They rejected help from others. Those outsiders crossing the fence were untrustworthy. They severed ties with fellow elves. They were just long-eared folk who couldn't be trusted, like anyone else.
On that night when they huddled in isolation, enduring, a radiant light descended from the heavens, enveloping the young elves as they slept in each other's arms. And thus, the Divine Archers were born.
All elves embraced the two. They revered the birth of new heroes to lead this era—not as helpless children in need of aid, but as their leaders, the hope of the elves.
Naturally, the children rejected it all. They recoiled from the overwhelming goodwill and attention, despising those who elevated them—mere orphans—as their chiefs despite their young age and losses.
What they needed wasn't power, so they cursed the blessing. They yearned not for strength, but for their parents returned. Yet all that came back were prayers of worship from the other elves.
Thus, the children lost their own lives. Forced to weave themselves into elven society, they bound their existence to the bow they never wanted. Their fate was shackled by the blessing.
Confused by the sudden turn, the children eventually accepted the worship and lived as shining Divine Archers, honing their talents. They shed the rejection, disgust, and hatred naturally.
They trained relentlessly, syncing perfectly. Something had always been missing. They filled each other's voids with their talents. As beings who shared a blessing meant for one, they moved and spoke as a single entity, not two.
And so, the Divine Archers of this era live on.
Their golden hair sways as they turn toward me. Silky strands like fine silk, sharp features, perfectly balanced bodies—they're like living dolls. Every movement mirrors exactly. The boy and girl, nearly identical in appearance, scream twins.
"Freyr Secretus. Divine Archer."
"Frella Secretus. Divine Archer."
The two young elves I encounter greet me. Identical motions, identical tones. Their expressionless faces make them seem not quite like children, despite their youth.
"I'm Ansiu, the hero you'll be teaming up with. Nice to meet you."
Their appearance, even younger than Seren when we first met, draws an unnatural response from me. My expectation of mature elves shatters.
Is it just an elven trait, looking young? Or are they really kids?
"Um... how old are you, by any chance?"
I voice my doubt.
"15 years old."
They answer in unison.
"Whoa. You're really younger than Seren."
"Arsius... why am I dragged into this?"
"No, but the hero party shoves all these kids into the meat grinder. This world might as well just collapse..."
"Arsius! Watch your mouth! Kids are listening, and you're the hero!"
Seren smacks my back in fury.
"No, Seren, you're a kid too..."
- And you're a kid too. Hero, the world's always been shit. What's new? And you got dragged in at that age—don't pity others when you're the most pitiful one here.
Sio, lounging on the sofa sipping coffee, looks at me like I'm an idiot.
"Sword Saint! I told you no swearing!"
- Saintess, it's not like I want to swear; the world makes me do it~
Seeing him act immature around Seren, I can't hold back.
"Boomer."
- Hero, what's that mean?
"What you call people like Sio. It's a compliment."
- Bullshit. Even a passerby knows it's an insult, you hero punk.
"Then shut up if you know."
Smack—
The swing from beside me lashes my back sharply. Blessed or something, it stings fiercely.
"Arsius."
Her voice chills a bit; I sneak a glance.
"I told you not to say bad things."
"Yes, ma'am."
"What is this on first meeting? You need to show your reliable hero side..."
"Sorry."
- Yeah, yeah. Heroes these days are too flippant without any gravitas~ Back in my day, you'd get beaten like a dog.
That boomer's lost it.
"Pfft."
The soft laughter draws my eyes; the twins cover their mouths.
"Sorry. You're just more fun than expected."
"Seren, seems like a good thing?"
"Sigh... I don't know."
Smiles linger on the twins' lips. Our light, unserious banter seems to appeal to them.
Guess they're not all stoic after all.
"Kids, call me Siu oppa from now on!"
"Arsius... you're such a dork..."
Seren bows her head. Her reddening ears catch my eye, unhidden.
What's wrong with that?
- Team 1 personnel check complete. All clear.
- Team 2 all clear.
- Team 3 all clear.
...
Even as I stand idly at the back, the guild hunters prepping for gate entry bustle with checks.
Each team inspects gear. They check hunters' conditions and confirm food and survival supplies essential for an S-rank gate.
Combat hunters for battle, support hunters for logistics, buffers for buffs and heals—they form teams to round out the expedition.
- All clear? Prepare to enter.
The A-rank burly guy leading this op receives reports and orders gate entry.
- Yuna Hunter, ready to enter?
Ultimately, they seek Yuna's approval.
"Yeah... let's go in..."
But she's dozing against my shoulder right now.
- ...All enter. Stay calm and handle any anomalies.
"Hey, even that guy's baffled. Stop yawning."
"Yawn... But entering gates first thing in the morning is exhausting..."
She yawns nonstop, resting her head on my shoulder. Unhappy with it, she rubs her head around, poking my arm and shoulder.
"What're you doing...?"
"Too hard... Lose some muscle, gain some fat."
She complains like a new pillow disappoints her. Fine for lazy days, but mid-S-rank entry? Ridiculous.
Snap—
"Ow..."
"Snap out of it and enter properly. Last team's going in; our turn."
"Mmm..."
Yuna grabs my sleeve and heads to the gate, following me. Non-combat, she's always spacey—I've gotten used to it.
The hunter ahead crosses; I step into the gate. Barely a toe in, I'm sucked through spinning space. Twisting, deconstructing, reconstructing—my body settles fully inside.
"Ugh, gates always feel weird no matter how many times. You too, right?"
I rub my arms and call back.
But behind me, ahead of me—no one.
My words echo in the empty space, fading to silence and void enveloping me.
"What the."
Perplexed, I stare ahead blankly. No one, no sounds. Just a straight path piercing the emptiness ahead.
So I head forward. Standing still means nothing here.
Following the hollow path leads to a massive door.
I open it.
Beyond: a vast maze. Monsters dwelling within. Their familiar faces make me grimace.
These are the demonic beasts I saw endlessly in Pretoria.
Trapped on corrupted lands, twisted into monsters, countless numbers bare fangs at me.
"No, seriously, what the hell."