Hellish Training Part I

Pant... Pant... Pant....

"Wait, wait, wait! Time out! Time out!" I gasped, my breath ragged as I clutched my knees.

"Tired already? Should I remind you of all those cheesy lines you spouted this morning?" Rowan asked with a teasing smirk.

"Ugh... Please. This is too much. We've been running since morning. How much have we even covered?" I wheezed, my lungs burning.

"Almost five kilometers. And we got just one more kilometre to go."

"... Sure?"

"Yeah, then we'll head back, so let's say six kilometers in total once more"

I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn't decide whether to laugh at my earlier bravado or cry at my current misery.

'Why... Why did I open my big mouth this morning?'

Earlier, Rowan had asked about my schedule and training back home. I told him—perhaps a bit too enthusiastically—about my stigmata, my unique ability which I assumed was to learn others' skills, and how people used to call me a genius in my childhood. I might have also bragged about how hard I trained—harder than anyone else.

Now, I regret it all.

Still, I already decided to trust Rowan. He had already saved my life once, and so I truly didn't believe he had any ill intentions.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, we finally arrived at Rowan's cottage.

"Take a rest. We'll start archery training in a bit," he said casually.

"Archery? Me? I've never even touched a bow before." Honestly, I was quite shocked by his words.

"Exactly. That's why you're going to learn. Don't worry, I'll teach you the basics. If you want to win the competition, you need to learn everything—swordsmanship, spearmanship, and yes, even archery."

"...Alright," I nodded readily.

Truth be told, I wasn't against the idea. I was actually a little excited.

"And in addition to that," Rowan added. "You'll also learn how to hunt, cook, identify poisonous plants, make basic medicine, and even create weak poisons."

"Are those really necessary?" I asked, frowning.

I couldn't help but feel skeptical. I wanted to focus on leveling up, raising my stats—not dabbling in survival skills.

"Yes, very much so," Rowan replied, his tone this time was rather serious. "These are more important than your weapons. You're still a kid—so you don't know how cruel the world can be. Remember, those 'little tricks' are what saved your life that day."

I couldn't really argue with that.

After some rest, he began teaching me the basics of handling a bow. It didn't seem too difficult at first, but something felt off. Normally, after picking up a weapon, the corresponding passive skill would appear on my status like swordsmanship or spearmanship.

But this time, there were no signs of that 'Archery' status on my profile.

After completing his lesson on a few more stuffs about the bow, he took me to a place, not too far away from our home, but a little tricky to reach. And apparently, the place looked like a very good place for hunting birds.

"What you've learned so far is the definition of a bow and arrow—not archery. What I'm going to teach you is something special." Rowan continued in an attempt to clarify my doubts.

"Oh? Now I'm really curious."

"It's good that you're motivated," he said, but then added, "But sadly, you won't be able to learn it anytime soon. It's an original technique—one known only to a handful of elves. Even the creator of this technique couldn't fully master it. It takes at least two months just to grasp 0.01%."

"That few know about it? Wouldn't that put us both at risk?"

If someone traced the technique back to Rowan, it could spell trouble for both of us.

"Don't worry. Besides me, only the Queen and the Princess of Edenheart could recognize it. Others might find it peculiar, but that's it."

"Only the Queen and the Princess?" I was a little surprised. I often tend to forget that this Rowan had royal blood in him, given how he behaved most of the time.

"Well... there are two other former disciples of mine. They're far away, though. Oh, and maybe my brother would recognize it too... not sure."

'Why does the list keep growing every time he talks?'

"So... what's the name of this mysterious technique?"

"Memories of Silence."

'A little dramatic... but cool.'

Elves were renowned for their archery, but creating an original technique? That was exceedingly rare. One in a million, if that.

"Wait a minute... Rowan, be honest—did you create this technique?"

He simply looked at me and smirked.

"Y-you're joking, right? No matter how strong you are, that's a bit much. Wait... Don't tell me it's some sort of a scam technique!" I argued.

Without really entertaining me, he led me toward the hunting grounds, that same proud smile never leaving his face.

'This guy... Is he mocking me?'

The moment we arrived, the air shifted. I could hear birds chirping all around.

Rowan lowered his voice and whispered, "Listen carefully. I'll only say this once. Memories of Silence is an assassination technique. And the key here is silence. When used normally, it surpasses other archery methods, yes—but its full potential shines only during an assassination."

'Assassination... with a bow?' The image of silently eliminating a monster from the shadows flashed through my mind.

'I like that idea… a lot.'

Without another word, Rowan stepped forward, drawing his bow. His presence shifted completely.

The silence around him wasn't just quiet—it was absolute. It was a silence that pressed down on your senses, that made your own breathing sound too loud. A deadly yet elegant stillness.

He adjusted his stance slightly, eyes narrowing and slowly waited for a signal from the silence. What felt like eternity to me was only a second, and then I heard the sound.

Twang.

The arrow vanished into the distance, slicing through the air. And exactly at the same moment, a falcon dropped from a tree far ahead, a clean hole in its neck—but no arrow in sight. Strangely, the other birds on the same branch didn't even react.

I stood, mouth agape.

'How can simple archery look so... elegant?'

Rowan glanced at me. "That... is silence."

I squinted my eyes at his cheesy lines. "Don't say weird things. But c-can I try?" I asked.

"That's why we're here."

I raised the bow, nocked the arrow and tried to mimic Rowan's form as best I could. But even after I tried my best, I looked more like a caveman with a stick than an assassin with a bow.

'Something's definitely wrong here.'

Even though I could clearly recall Rowan's posture, I couldn't replicate it.

Still, I continued my attempt and aimed at the nearest bird.

Twang.

Nothing.

No bird was hit, no leaves fell down.

"Did I miss it?" I asked, still searching where my arrow went.

"You didn't miss."

"What?"

"You didn't shoot either."

I looked down—and there the arrow was, lying at my feet.

"...Why?" I exclaimed in shock. I knew I couldn't do it one try, but this...

"I told you. You need at least a month or two just to learn 0.01%."

"..."

Still, I didn't give up. I didn't want to.

I picked the arrow up and tried again only to be met with the same mistake.

I tried again, then again, and again.

Eventually, the birds flew away, alarmed by my constant failure. But I kept shooting—at the tree, the air, at anything.

At last, my arrows began to fly from the bow, but they were too clumsy, far too clumsy from the grace of Memories of Silence.

"That's enough for today. Let's go," Rowan said.

"You go. I'm staying a little longer."

"We're out of arrows. You'll need to make more from bamboo branches. I'll show you how later. Also, you still have sword and spear practice."

'Is this some new method of torture?'

"Hah... Fine. Let's go."

'Tomorrow for sure... I'll get it right.'

Later that day, Rowan trained me in both swordsmanship and spearmanship.

I'd hoped—naively—that he'd teach me another powerful technique. Something on the level of Dance of the Dragon, the famous technique of the fallen nobles, The Rosewood Family.

But no. What he taught was normal swordplay and completely basic spear forms.

And yet...

'This… This is just a basic technique? Why does it feel so different?'

Despite using the same techniques, I was getting completely overwhelmed. Rowan beat me down like he held a personal grudge against me from our past life. I was bruised, battered, and utterly exhausted. I was already tired from pushing my body every time, since morning, and this was making it much worse.

'They say if you perform misdeeds in your life, you go to hell in your afterlife. Today, I'll say that's some bullshit right there. This... this right here, is the real hell.'