Chapter 191: The Fundamentals of Archery (1)

The carriage came to a stop in front of the main area of the mansion. They had returned to the very place they had departed from. At the checkpoint, there was no grand welcoming crowd.

Keter gave a small, amused snort.

So very Sefira.

Still, they weren’t completely unwelcomed. Four people had come to greet them: the personal butlers of Myle, Anis, and Taragon, and Keter, all smiling as they waited.

“We have arrived, my lords.”

Creak.

The carriage stopped. Myle’s butler opened the right door, and Anis’ opened the left.

“My lord.”

“You must be tired from your journey.”

Each butler offered a hand and a towel to their respective lords. Jacques stepped up to Keter.

“Welcome back, Lord Keter. Let’s get you to the recovery room first. I’ve already alerted the physicians.”

“Making such a fuss as soon as I arrive... You make it sound like I’m injured, Gramps. Do I look hurt to you?”

Keter spun around once for display. From head to toe, his body was clean—pristine, even.

But Jacques, ever stern and serious, said gravely, “Even if there are no visible wounds, there may be festering damage within.”

“That’s actually true, but I’m not the type to hide it. On the other hand...” said Keter, motioning toward his brothers with a glance. “...my brothers are stubborn. Please take good care of them.”

The other butlers nodded in agreement.

“Let’s head to the recovery room, my lord.”

“I will inform Lord Hissop that you’ll be delayed.”

Just then, Taragon puffed out his chest and said in a booming voice, “What recovery room?! Do I look injured to you?”

It was true Taragon had sustained numerous injuries during the tournament, but thanks to elixirs, his injuries had healed instantly. He had also changed into clean clothes, so he looked perfectly fine. Then Keter poked Taragon’s shoulder with his finger.

“Gahh!”

Taragon’s spine arched like a bow.

Keter poked him again, listing off muscles as he went, “Trapezius, deltoid, pectoralis major, external obliques... you’ve got a lot of built-up fatigue. At this point, it would be faster to disassemble and rebuild you.”

“O-okay, stop poking me! I get it! I’ll go get treated!”

“And don’t even think about using an elixir to relieve fatigue. Your body builds resistance to it, like with any drug.”

“Ugh...”

Groaning, Taragon sank down in defeat. Keter turned to Myle and Anis next.

“...Shall we head to the recovery room?”

“I was planning to from the beginning.”

Neither Myle nor Anis felt the need to show off like Taragon.

While the three brothers headed to the recovery room, Keter slipped away for a bath.

“Ahhh, perfection.”

Keter sank into the steaming water, hot enough to cook his skin, and submerged himself completely. He was honed like steel; parts of it that had been severed and reattached more times than he could count, and some weren’t even his own. The metamorphosis he had undergone in the tournament had pushed him beyond human limits in strength and flexibility, but he was still human—he felt pain, and he grew tired.

The heat melted his exhaustion away. This pleasure ranked among Keter’s favorite experiences in life.

Bubble, bubble.

As Keter was enjoying his long soak, an unexpected visitor barged in.

Bang!

“Keter, you in here?!”

“You can’t go in there, Lord Volkanus!”

Volkanus, Sefira’s blacksmith, barged in with Jacques clinging to his leg in protest.

“What’s this? No Keter, just some kid?”

Keter was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a quiet Six sat calmly in the room.

“Huh? Wait, this kid...”

Perhaps it was his intuition as a blacksmith, but Volkanus approached Six with interest. Even as the blacksmith loomed right in front of him, Six didn’t so much as flinch.

“This kid... he’s not...”

Just then, a hand emerged from the water and grabbed Volkanus’ wrist as he reached for Six’s eyes. Keter rose from the bath, dripping wet, and brushed his bangs back.

“Don’t look at Six like that, Grandpa.”

“What kind of look?”

“You look like you’ve fallen in love at first sight.”

“...Don’t be ridiculous.” Shaking off Keter’s hand, Volkanus glanced at Six one more time and muttered, “I’m curious, but if you’re that protective, I won’t touch him.”

“Good. So what brings you here?”

“What do you mean?! You asked me to make you a new weapon, remember?!”

Before entering the tournament, Keter had indeed commissioned Volkanus to craft a new weapon. He had provided imperial portable gear obtained in Liqueur, as well as original weaponry made with the shape-memory alloy techniques of the Flying Wolf Tribe. He had asked for it to be completed before the tournament ended, but hadn’t really expected it.

“Is it done?”

“I wouldn’t call it finished, but it’s functional. Come on out. You’ll be amazed.”

Volkanus didn’t seem the least bit concerned about Keter’s new status as the Bow of the South. That was the way of a blacksmith: his entire world revolved around his craft.

“Lord Volkanus, Lord Keter has just returned from the tournament. Lord Hissop is waiting to see him. You can’t take him to the forge first.”

Jacques, not caring if his clothes got wet, followed Volkanus into the bath to stop him. Though Hissop was only the deputy patriarch, his authority right now was equal to the patriarch as Besil was absent.

“What do you mean?! Are you ignoring my new invention? This is a historic breakthrough that could revive all of Sefira!”

A blacksmith’s pride wouldn’t bow to mere rank. The more Volkanus was pressed, the more fiercely he pushed back.

“You may be the finest blacksmith in Sefira, but you still rank below the deputy patriarch! Please watch your tone!” Jacques shouted.

Jacques was fiercely proud of Sefira, but when it came to sheer volume, he couldn’t match Volkanus.

“Tell Hissop to wait! I’ve made more bows and arrows than that man has eaten loaves of bread! He can spare a few minutes!”

“Absolutely not!”

The two glared at each other, locked in a silent standoff of pure will.

“Gramps, aren’t you embarrassed to be arguing like this in front of me?”

“Ahem!”

𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

“Keter, you decide. Who’s first? It’s obviously me, right?” Volkanus said.

“That doesn’t even require a second thought...”

Splash.

Keter stepped out of the bath and placed a hand over his stomach.

“Food comes first.”

* * *

In the First Dining Hall, Altin, the chef whom Keter fondly called Uncle Octopus, personally brought dishes to the table as he said, “It’s been years since I last had the honor of serving Lord Hissop a meal.”

All five Sefira brothers were gathered in the banquet hall: Hissop, Myle, Anis, Taragon, and finally, Keter.

Hissop’s rough fingertips were stained with dark ink. He seemed to have just come from handling documents.

“I’ve missed your cooking, Head Chef Altin. Looks like Keter granted my wish.”

Hissop turned to look at Keter, and Keter met his gaze. This was their first time seeing each other in person.

He looks even stronger than the rumors said.

That was Hissop’s first impression of Keter—not just physical strength, but a firm sense of mental resilience as well. And Keter’s impression of Hissop was just as striking.

Feels like a lucky version of Taragon.

Though the comparison to Taragon might suggest otherwise, Keter held Hissop in high regard. It wasn’t just the sturdy build or sharp eyes.

He’s not on guard against me at all.

Myle, Anis, and Taragon had all shown clear caution around Keter, but Hissop didn’t. Even if it was just an act, Keter didn’t mind. He didn’t see falsehood as inherently bad.

Deceiving others and yourself is a skill too.

The world wasn’t only about strength. Even beasts in the wild didn’t survive on power alone.

Liking what he saw, Keter rose from his seat.

“Big Brother Hissop, it’s good to meet you. I’m Keter.”

He didn’t just say he was glad to meet him. Keter also held out his wine glass to Hissop. It was an act considered quite rude in noble society, where only superiors were expected to offer drinks.

“...!”

The three middle brothers, who knew Keter well, understood there was no hostility in his gesture. Still, they couldn’t help but tense at the breach of etiquette. This was Hissop’s first encounter with Keter. It wouldn’t be strange for him to scold him outright.

Gulp.

As everyone waited, tense and uncertain how Hissop would react, he gently pushed the glass back with a smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have quite a bit of work left. Let’s share a drink after I finish. Will you pour me one then?”

“...!”

Now the three brothers turned their eyes to Keter. They were worried he would arrogantly take offense to it.

But Keter simply lowered the rejected wine glass and replied, “If you’re that behind on work, should I help out a little?”

The tone was halfway between formal and endearing.

Still, Hissop calmly shook his head.

“How could we ask the pride of Sefira, the Bow of the South, to do paperwork? You’ve only just returned. I’d like you to take at least today to rest.”

“It’s not ‘just paperwork.’ Isn’t it what keeps the family running?”

“I’m grateful you see it that way.”

“Are you heading back to the office right after this meal?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Old Volkanus has been hounding me to drop by the forge, so I’ll go there first and then I’ll join you at the office. Is that alright?”

“Anytime.”

Keter gave a nod, and Hissop nodded back. It was a silent exchange of mutual understanding. Then Hissop stood, lifting a glass of water and tapping it with his spoon.

Clink clink.

“In honor of Keter, who has become the Bow of the South by winning the Sword of the South Tournament, let us raise a glass.”

With just that simple line, Hissop dispelled the awkwardness in the air. The brothers followed and raised their wine glasses.

“To Sefira.”

A humble toast, but one spoken with resolve. Hissop was the first to drink.

“To Sefira,” the others echoed and took a sip.

Keter, watching them, didn’t like how serious they all looked. He raised his voice boldly.

“For Sefira!”

In that moment, Keter truly felt like he was home.

* * *

Dinner ended quietly and quickly, as each of the brothers had things they wanted to do. Hissop had work to attend to as the deputy patriarch, Myle and Anis wanted to reflect on the lessons they had learned from the tournament, and Keter wanted to check out the new weapon that Volkanus had supposedly completed.

As soon as the meal was over, Keter was practically dragged to the forge by Volkanus, who had been waiting at the dining room entrance. However, he wasn’t alone.

“Keter, mind if I come too?” asked Taragon, his eyes like a puppy.

Taragon had a strong obsession with weapons, and he desperately wanted to tag along to see the new weapon. However, Volkanus wasn’t thrilled by the idea, and for good reason—Taragon had caused a major accident once because of Amaranth. But the decision was Keter’s to make.

“Of course.”

Keter agreed without hesitation, as if it were no big deal.

“

Tsk

, Taragon. I’m warning you in advance not to touch things randomly. You’ve got cursed hands or something. Everything you touch breaks,” Volaknus said.

“When did I ever?”

“If I say you did, then you did!”

“Hmph, every time you see me, Grandpa...”

“What did you just call me?”

“N-never mind.”

Volkanus didn’t mind being called “Grandpa” by Keter, but he was much less forgiving with Taragon.

The two bickered all the way to the forge, which looked more like an exhibition hall. Tables covered with cloth were lined up, and a soldier and a knight stood behind them with their hands behind their backs, seemingly prepared for a demonstration.

“Heh... For the first teaser, I’ll show you... this bad boy!”

Whoosh!

The cloth on the first table was dramatically whipped away.