Dry Leaf

"Beast!!" At the sight of the shadow, Splitting Blade's hair stood on end. "Shields up! Shields up—"

"Hah—" The dual shield bearers roared in unison. Their enormous shields crashed heavily into the ground, creating a steel fortress rooted to the earth. Their muscles bulged as they crouched low, bracing the shields with their shoulders.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A deafening series of crashes followed as the defense line was shattered in an instant. With a few muffled groans, shields and bodies flew into the air, landing heavily on the ground. Though the defense hadn't stopped the beast, it had slowed its charge. Yet the impact's sheer power was terrifying—enough to nearly overwhelm even the renowned shield warriors.

Blue light from Kent's prayer magic shimmered, arriving just in time.

The giant roared, surging forward instead of retreating. He leaped high, raising his millstone-sized war hammer. Lightning seemed to crackle around its surface, channeling immense power. Meanwhile, several other figures darted toward the beast's flanks, weapons aimed with deadly precision.

With a thunderous boom, the war hammer smashed into the beast's head, eliciting an even more furious roar. Behind them, ten or so tiger-tribe warriors pounced again, only to be intercepted by Scythe and Fatty Bull with all their might. Splitting Blade, who had been injured during the beast's initial charge, bled from his nose and mouth.

Despite Kent's repeated prayers, his magic reserves were nearly depleted. Meditation restored magic, but too slowly to keep pace with the relentless battle.

From the darkness, a swift and agile figure shot forward like a torrent. Water Stream darted lightning-fast, weaving between enemies in a blur of motion. The tiger warriors barely had time to react before the water-like figure struck and vanished, disappearing back into the shadows.

The charging beast was a plated bear—an armored giant usually seen only on battlefields. Originating from the icy mountain ranges, these beasts were naturally resistant to blades. After being trained by the tiger tribe and equipped with head and chest armor, they became unstoppable battering rams.

But why was such a creature here? What exactly were the tiger tribes planning?

There was no time for Splitting Blade to ponder further. The giant had already engaged the beast in a fierce struggle. On the beast's back, Water Stream reappeared, clinging tightly to its armor despite its ferocious movements.

The beast lunged toward Fatty Bull.

In the next moment—

"Heavy Hammer!"

Water Stream shouted as he propelled himself into the air, his body radiating a dark blue glow, a shadow of death.

"Huah!" Fatty Bull roared, stomping the ground as he bent his knees, twisted his waist, and unleashed his full strength. The war hammer swung upward with all his might.

Clang! A deafening impact reverberated as the hammer smashed into the beast's jaw, breaking the hammer's shaft. The beast howled in pain, its head snapping upward—perfectly aligned with Water Stream's descending strike.

Time seemed to freeze.

Everything halted as though suspended in an eternal moment.

The ground was littered with shards of grass, dirt, and blood. The beast's battered armor stood still mid-air. Behind it, the two shattered shields of the tiger warriors blocked further advances. Splitting Blade, his face twisted in rage, thrust his giant sword into a tiger warrior's neck. An arrow, gleaming with lethal intent, was a breath away from piercing another's chest. Scythe shielded Fatty Bull with his own spear embedded in one tiger warrior's heart, his shoulder absorbing the blow of an incoming axe. Fatty Bull's broken weapons lay discarded, replaced by a short sword and shattered spear.

Everything froze.

Dry Leaf's heartbeat resonated with the rhythm of a hunter's chant.

Bowstring taut, the arrow feather brushed his ear. A fiery precision coursed through his arm, stripping away the layers of the world around him. The darkness vanished. The forest disappeared. Shields, allies—everything but his target faded from sight.

…

In a distant field of wildflowers, something moved.

A young Dry Leaf gripped his short bow tightly, trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves, his body leaning forward.

"Shh—" His father, a seasoned hunter, gently pressed a hand to his shoulder.

A young mountain goat emerged from the grass. Its fur, polished from grazing all summer, gleamed with health. Its plump belly hinted at new life within. The sunlight danced off its elegant horns—horns unmatched by anything owned by the other children of the tribe.

"This is a gift from the forest," his father whispered, "a blessing from the gods of nature."

Dry Leaf's father patted his head and nodded encouragingly. The wind rustled the grass, concealing the hunters.

This would be his first offering…

The mountain goat raised its head, basking in the golden sunlight, breathing steadily.

"For the best hunters, their bows transcend time and space," his father had once said.

"Why?"

"Because, to a hunter, whether the prey is still or moving, it is always still." His father explained, "You anticipate where it will be. Your arrow doesn't hit it—it waits for it. Breathe with your bow, Dry Leaf. Let it become an extension of your power."

His bow was the most exquisite among the children of the tribe. Its limbs were reinforced with northern beast horn, and its string made of beast sinew rather than goat tendons, granting unmatched range and power.

Dry Leaf nocked an arrow—a shaft as long as his arm with a razor-sharp tip. Its design, said to be foreign in origin, could pierce even the hardest beast armor in the hands of a master hunter.

He raised the bow, inhaling deeply, pulling the string taut.

The wind shifted, rustling the grass.

The mountain goat tensed.

His hand remained steady as he adjusted against the wind, just as he had practiced countless times before.

From the grass behind the goat, a leopard silently pounced.

Releasing the arrow, it tore through the air in a blink—

Striking the leopard's eye.

The mountain goat bolted, its horns a blur of beauty as it disappeared over a hilltop adorned with wildflowers.

A beautiful gift.

But not those horns.

…

Everything stood still again.

The world narrowed to the soaring assassin Crow, the giant's hammer strike, and the beast's vulnerable eye beneath its iron plating.

His bow. His arrow. Its eye.

The arrow was released.

Swish—