The side hall corridor behind the tower was far narrower than the main hall.
Combat boots stomped on the stone, where the damp cold slithered like a living thing, creeping upward from the ankles.
Alleria pushed open the wooden door at the far end, unceremoniously dumping a bucket of bone-chilling cold water and a neatly folded set of coarse cloth apprentice robes into Li Fan’s arms.
“Clean yourself up,” she dropped coldly, turning to leave.
Li Fan didn’t move right away.
Instead, he looked down at the blue orb of water floating in midair.
Arcane energy swirled gently inside the sphere, emitting a faint, low hum while dim blue light flickered along its edges.
“You elves use magic just to take a bath,” Li Fan said, slinging the clothes casually over his shoulder, his tone dripping with unreserved banter.
“No wonder you have to bring an entire babysitting squad of mages whenever you go to war.” Alleria’s boot abruptly halted at the threshold.
Half-turning, a glint of cold sharpness flickered in her eyes.
“Which is why you humans always carry the smell of—” Before she could finish, a crisp, melodious voice burst from behind her, shamelessly completing the sentence: “—livestock dung you can never wash off.” Both of them turned at once.
Leaning out from the doorframe was half the body of an elven girl.
She had dazzling, silver-white hair, with one loose braid resting lazily over her shoulder.
She seemed to be holding something tightly to her chest, her strikingly bright eyes peering over Alleria’s shoulder to scan Li Fan up and down.
Li Fan forcefully stifled a smirk that threatened to twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Alleria’s brow creased slightly, a barely noticeable hint of indulgence peeking through her cold tone.
“What are you doing here?” “Father said,” the girl said, her eyes finally shifting from Li Fan’s face with a touch of nonchalant charm, “that they caught a human who could shoot straight through the center of a swivel target.
I came to see if he had three heads and six arms.” Without hesitation, she bypassed Alleria, marched into the room, and stopped in front of Li Fan, scrutinizing him critically from head to toe.
“Looks like…
apart from being dirty, he’s no different from any hand on a passing merchant caravan.” Vereesa Windrunner.
Li Fan didn’t introduce himself.
The girl before him was even younger than he had expected, her eyes bearing a pure, bright clarity untouched by the fires of war.
Li Fan sat squarely on the wooden stool, lifting his loosely bound wrists toward the girl with a slight shake.
“Judging a hunter,” he said in a low voice, “doesn’t start with the face.
It starts here.” He slowly turned his hands over, spreading his palms open before her.
Rough calluses extended from the base of his fingers down to his palms.
The ones at the web of his thumb were the most alarming, a sickly waxy yellow.
Vereesa’s gaze locked dead onto those hands.
She stared motionless for two full seconds.
Then, stubbornly casting an unimpressed look over his stubble-covered cheeks and mud-caked boots, she lifted her chin slightly.
“That’s all?
I have those too.” She proudly extended her hands.
They were slender, fair, and long-fingered.
Her palms bore only a few faint calluses, almost imperceptible unless examined closely under the light.
Li Fan glanced down at them.
And took another look.
Then he raised his eyes, staring directly at her with an aggressive sharpness.
“Lute practice or archery?” Vereesa was like a cat that had its tail stepped on, her delicate brows knotting instantly.
“Archery, of course!” She straightened her slim back, her eyes brimming with pride.
“I can hit a moving target fifty meters away continuously.” Li Fan gave an unforgiving scoff.
He turned his head toward Alleria, who was still leaning against the doorframe watching coldly with arms crossed, before locking eyes back on Vereesa.
“Fifty meters?
That’s not archery, that’s kids spitting.
Any adult troll spear-thrower can lop your head clean off from sixty meters away.
What, is this the elite education your Windrunner family takes such pride in?” Vereesa’s shoulders tensed sharply, her soft red lips pursing into a stubborn, rigid line.
“Then why don’t you try?!” Her voice rose half an octave in irritation.
Li Fan leaned against the hard back of the chair, his posture casual yet oozing subtle danger.
“I don’t need to try.” Before the words died away, he suddenly lunged his upper body forward and grabbed her wrist before she could pull it back.
Vereesa let out half a gasp, instinctively trying to break free, only to find his hand gripping like an iron vice.
Li Fan ran his fingers unceremoniously over her knuckles.
“The calluses between your index and middle fingers lean toward the outer knuckle—a mark left only when your drawing power habits are wildly inconsistent.
At best, you’ve only been putting in real effort for the past six months.
Before that, you were just treating bows and arrows like toys.” With that, he promptly let go and leaned back into the chair again.
Vereesa’s fingertips twitched violently as if burned, and she instinctively pulled her hand back into her sleeve.
“So what?” Her bravado clearly deflated.
“It means fifty meters is merely your current level, far from your limit,” Li Fan said, dropping his dismissive tone as his gaze turned deep.
“But if you sit around boasting about it like it’s your ceiling, you’ll never touch the threshold of sixty meters in your entire life.” Vereesa took a deep breath, offering no counterargument.
Her shoulders, previously tense with anger, slowly relaxed, though they now carried the helplessness of someone who had been seen straight through.
Alleria finally straightened up and stepped into the room.
She carried a frigid aura forged from years spent walking the line between life and death.
“Vereesa, he’s right.” Vereesa snapped her head around, her small face displaying a striking mix of emotions—reluctance, grievance, and the embarrassment of having her weaknesses exposed by her own sister in front of an outsider.
“A troll spear-thrower’s effective kill range is between sixty and eighty meters,” Alleria said as she walked up to Li Fan’s side, her cool voice sounding like a pronounced death sentence.
“When he says your fifty meters isn’t enough, it is a cruel reality.” Vereesa lowered her head, staring intently at her hands, falling silent.
Li Fan knew when to stop and kept his mouth shut.
The words had been delivered; the rest was up to her to figure out.
Alleria snatched up the set of grey apprentice clothes beside the bucket and hurled them at Li Fan’s head, covering his face entirely.
“Clean up and change.
I’ll see you in ten minutes at the armory on the second floor.” With that, she grabbed Vereesa’s wrist and pulled her out.
At the door, the young girl paused for half a beat, holding herself back from looking back.
The door shut again.
Li Fan pulled the apprentice uniform off his head.
His nose sharply caught a faint trace of Peacebloom fragrance lingering on the fabric.
He ignored the floating arcane water orb, picking up the bucket of bone-chilling well water instead and pouring it over his head without hesitation.
*Splash—* Li Fan roughly wrung out his hair and threw on the grey cloth clothes.
As his fingers brushed his collar, his movements suddenly froze.
The webs of those hands.
Aralil’s hands.
The deep, indented old friction scar near the web of the Ranger-General’s right hand—between thumb and index finger—struck Li Fan’s mind like a bolt of lightning.
That was a unique mark left only by the “Ancient Physical Bow Hunting Technique,” which eschewed all magical assistance and squeezed pure physical power to its utmost limit.
That lofty head of the Windrunner house actually utilized a killing art from the very same origin as his own.
Li Fan slowly lowered his hands, took a deep breath, and strode out the door.
The second-floor armory.
A bitter scent hung in the air.
Along the wall, long rows of weapon racks neatly displayed various training gear.
Alleria was already waiting there.
She turned and retrieved a longbow from the innermost rack.
The bow body was as deep as night, unadorned by any ornate arcane runes.
Only at the grip was there a thick, heavy patina born from countless life-and-death struggles.
This was definitely not something that could be formed in a year or two.
She tossed the black bow onto the long table and slid it toward Li Fan.
Li Fan stepped forward, his fingertips lightly tracing the cold spine of the bow.
A heavy sense of time and experience surged up his fingers and struck his heart.
“Good stuff.” With her back to him, Alleria’s voice echoed in the cavernous armory.
“Father’s decision.
A three-month probationary period.
You answer to me for now.” She whipped around, her eyes burning with an intense, suffocating killing intent.
“If you die in Eversong Woods, I’ll personally bury you beneath dead tree roots as fertilizer.
If you survive, we’ll evaluate whether you stay or leave after three months.” She slammed an apprentice dossier heavily onto the tabletop.
Bright red ink, clear thumbprints, a scribbled signature, and today’s date.
After pressing his thumbprint, Li Fan glanced at the box offset by two degrees, utterly unbothered as he pushed the dossier back.
It had been merely two days and one night since he set foot in this elven territory to hunt down that troll.
Alleria snatched the dossier, tucked it under her arm, and strode out briskly.
Li Fan lifted the black bow with one hand, his eyes following her tall figure.
“Officer, thank your father for me for lending me this old friend.” Alleria’s boots paused for a tiny fraction of a second.
Then she kept walking, offering not a single reply.
Yet Li Fan’s voice lazily pursued her like an inescapable phantom, as casual as small talk: “Also, that old injury on your left shoulder.
On the way here today, the force you used pushing doors with your left arm was a good third lighter than yesterday.
When you sleep tonight, try not to lie on your side.” “Mind your own business!” Alleria’s voice shot up with sharp coldness, and her boots pounded the floor half a beat faster.
Li Fan wisely swallowed his remaining words, gripped the black bow, and slowly followed behind her.