A Shadow and an Arrow

The night air was still, yet heavy with unseen tension. Lucian and Lancer moved cautiously through the ruins, the weight of their last encounter with Assassin pressing down on them. Despite their apparent victory, neither of them felt safe—Assassin was still alive.

Lucian glanced at Lancer, who walked beside him with her greatsword resting on her shoulder. Her crimson eyes flickered with sharp awareness, scanning every rooftop, every broken wall, every shifting shadow.

"She's watching us," Lucian muttered under his breath.

Lancer grunted. "Let her watch. Next time, I'll carve her into something that won't be able to slither away."

Lucian wished he shared her confidence. Assassin—Dead Master—was no ordinary opponent. She was the very embodiment of an unseen threat, one that lingered even after death.

And yet, despite their wariness, they both knew someone else was already waiting for them.

Lancer stopped.

Lucian tensed.

A single arrow shot through the air, embedding itself in the ground a few meters in front of them. A warning.

"She's here." Lancer's grip on her blade tightened.

Lucian exhaled, raising his gaze toward the rooftops. A lone figure stood there, bow in hand, their stance relaxed yet undeniably precise. The dim glow of a streetlight barely illuminated them, casting their form in half-shadow.

Archer.

"Took you long enough," Lancer called out. "I was starting to think you'd keep hiding in the dark."

Archer didn't answer immediately. They leaped from the rooftop, landing effortlessly on a broken pillar before stepping forward into clearer view. Their posture was composed, exuding a quiet confidence.

"I see," Archer finally spoke. Their voice was even, calm, carrying no urgency. "You survived Assassin's game. Impressive."

Lucian remained still, his mind racing through possibilities. Archer had chosen this moment to appear, which meant they had been watching the entire time.

"You knew Assassin was there," Lucian said. It wasn't a question.

Archer nodded. "Of course." They gestured vaguely toward the shadows. "She's still out there, you know. Watching. Waiting."

Lancer scoffed. "We're aware."

Archer smiled slightly. "Good. That means I don't have to waste my time explaining the obvious."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Then what do you want?"

Archer tilted their head slightly, gaze steady. "A simple answer. Are you my enemy?"

Lancer didn't hesitate. "If you attack, you'll find out soon enough."

Archer exhaled, amused. "A predictable answer from Lancer." They lowered their bow slightly but didn't dismiss it. "Then I'll ask again, more clearly this time. Do you intend to fight me right now?"

Lucian hesitated. He knew Lancer was itching for battle, but engaging Archer without knowing their full capabilities could be a mistake.

Before he could respond, Archer smirked.

"No need to answer. I already know."

In an instant, they moved.

Lancer barely had time to react before a second arrow flew—not at her, but at Lucian.

Lancer's eyes widened. With a burst of speed, she intercepted it, her greatsword knocking it aside before it could reach her Master. The force of the impact sent sparks flying.

"Tch." Lancer growled. "So that's your play?"

Archer simply smiled. "Just testing your reflexes."

Lucian clenched his fists. He knew what that meant—Archer was gauging their strength. If they had truly wanted him dead, they wouldn't have given Lancer the chance to react.

Archer took a step back, lowering their bow slightly. "I have my answer. That will be enough for tonight."

Lancer narrowed her eyes. "Running already?"

Archer chuckled. "No. Just watching."

Then, without another word, they leaped back into the shadows, disappearing into the ruined city.

Lucian let out a slow breath.

"They didn't come to fight," he muttered. "They wanted to see if we were worth killing."

Lancer exhaled through her nose. "And?"

Lucian frowned.

"I don't know. But I don't like the way they're watching us."

---

To Be Continued…