Aldrich had been approached by John Foster, a fourth-year S-ranked student.
Fourth year… the final stage of learning at Eldora before students graduate. Just making it to the fourth year was an achievent every student aspired to, yet to remain an S-ranked student from the very first year through to the fourth? That was sothing beyond re talent—it was an overwhelming testant to one's unparalleled skill and unwavering determination.
According to John, he had spoken with Professor Mariana, the official instructor for all first-year S-class students. He had taken notice of Aldrich during the trial, particularly the battle against the Kraken. The footage had been shared with the fourth years, a standard practice ant to assess whether any upperclassn saw potential in first-years, offering them a chance at ntorship.
After all, strengthening the new generation of Mystics was not just about personal growth; it was a necessity for humanity's survival. Their power was mankind's only hope of never falling behind the other races.
And that was how John Foster had co across Aldrich's battle.
It wasn't just the fight itself that captured his attention, it was the bow. The way Aldrich wielded it. The sheer precision, the instinct, the raw control. It had left John thoroughly impressed.
Yet, despite his interest, he hadn't approached Aldrich right away. That changed when he heard of Aldrich's situation, how he had been backed into a corner, forced into an upcoming battle against Kyle Dandada, a second-year student. John saw this as an opportunity, the perfect mont to step in and show Aldrich what he had to offer.
And so far? He had delivered far beyond expectations.
Aldrich had long been shaped by Earth's absence of mana and its fundantally different understanding of combat. No matter how much knowledge he had gained, certain limitations still remained ingrained. His training with the bow had always focused on a particular style, one shaped by conventional thods. But John had shattered that.
Under John's guidance, archery was beginning to take on an entirely new aning.
A Question of Perspective
"Tell , Aldrich," John said, his voice steady. "When you see a bow and a sword paired together, what cos to mind first?"
Aldrich didn't rush to answer. He had co to expect these sudden questions from John during training, questions that seed straightforward at first but, upon deeper thought, often revealed complex and layered anings.
He took a mont to reflect.
'Diverse... That's it.'
"When I see a sword and a bow together?" Aldrich mused. "I think of them as distinct—diverse. Each complents the other's form of attack."
A sword was a close-range weapon, while a bow was ant for long-range. They differed in application, yet both served the sa fundantal purpose. To manifest the user's abilities in the most effective way possible. A sword aided a warrior in close combat, just as a bow extended the reach of one who fought from a distance.
John nodded, but his expression remained unreadable.
"Hmm... Then what about a spear? Or a throwing dagger?" he challenged. "Both possess an almost identical range to a sword and an arrow. So, wouldn't it be fair to say they serve the sa purpose? That one could be easily substituted for the other?"
Aldrich frowned, considering the argunt. A throwing knife, after all, fell under the sa category as marksmanship just like a bow. A spear, on the other hand, possessed both thrusting and countering capabilities, making it a viable alternative to a sword.
At a glance, it seed reasonable to conclude that weapons with overlapping functionality were interchangeable.
But sothing about that reasoning felt fundantally flawed.
"No," Aldrich refuted, his voice firm. "That's not right."
John raised a brow, intrigued.
"There's so truth to what you're saying," Aldrich admitted. "But you're ignoring one critical factor? Skill. The weapon itself isn't the only thing that matters. The individual wielding it does."
A throwing knife and an arrow might share similarities, but their thods of use were entirely different. The sa could be said for a spear and a sword. The wielder's personal proficiency, style, and adaptability played just as significant a role as the weapon itself.
But John already knew this. He had to.
So then… what was the real purpose behind this question?
A Clash of Convictions
"Good," John said, a smirk forming on his lips. "You understand. That makes what cos next much easier."
His expression turned serious as he fixed his gaze on Aldrich.
"Tell sothing, Aldrich Aldaman," he said, his tone heavy. "Why use a bow when your Bloodline Art aligns you with close-quarters combat?"
Aldrich stiffened.
The Clover Eye? His Bloodline Art, though seemingly suited for long-range tactics, was, in reality, a high-performance ability designed for close-quarters combat. It granted him the ability to perceive movents in an almost foreseeable future, a skill that would be far more advantageous in the heat of lee battle than from a distance.
Yet Aldrich had chosen to use that ability for archery.
A waste of potential.
"I'm good with the bow," Aldrich said, his voice unwavering. "I always have been. That's why I've never even considered using another weapon."
He had no intention of abandoning the bow. Ever.
Call it stubbornness, but it was what it was.
He had absolute confidence in his ability as an archer. If he needed to improve, he would. If he needed to adapt, he would. But switching to another weapon? That was out of the question.
If, for the sake of argunt, he picked up a sword and beca proficient enough to impress an amateur, what then? What would happen when he ca face-to-face with a master swordsman?
There would be no guarantees. No certainty.
But with the bow?
Even if he faced an opponent of supre mastery, he was sure, absolutely sure that he could still find a way to win.
"Am I to take that as a declaration?" John asked. "That even if the heavens collapsed and the earth turned upside down, you would never abandon the bow?"
"Not even if I had a gun barrel pressed against my throat."
That was his answer.
Final. Absolute.
John sighed. "Then we have a problem," he said. "Your Bloodline Art says otherwise. It's telling you that you were ant for close combat."
"Is that even a debate?" Aldrich shot back. "I just have to find a way to make it work."
He had done it before against the Kraken. And he would do it again.
John studied him for a mont before stepping forward.
"Then let's put that belief to the test."
A Duel of Archers
John took his position, a certain glint in his eyes. "An archery contest," he declared. "One simple rule: whichever arrow destroys the other, wins."
If words weren't enough to make Aldrich understand, then action would.
Aldrich didn't argue. In truth, he had been waiting for this. An opportunity of his own to test his skills against a fourth-year S class!
"Are you ready?" John asked, gripping his bow.
"Whenever you are," Aldrich replied.
John moved first, drawing an arrow and firing with precision. The instant it left the bowstring, Aldrich's mind calculated his next move.
He fired.
The arrows t midair. Aldrich's shot split John's in two.
"I win—"
But his words froze.
The severed halves of John's arrow didn't lose montum. Instead, they gained even more speed, an impossibility under normal circumstances.
Aldrich barely evaded in ti.
John approached with a smirk. "Do you understand now?"
Aldrich stared at him, breath heavy.
"How did you do that?"
There was no mana, no foul play involved here. Aldrich can testify to that but refused to believe nonetheless.
"Skill," John answered. "One born through my refined way of viewing the bow."
Do you an to tell him raw skill was what made that possible? A lie! That is what it is.
John extended his hand.
"Aldrich… how would you like to learn an entirely new way of archery, one that defies every convention you've ever known?"
Aldrich looked at the outstretched hand. And for the first ti… he hesitated.
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