CHAPTER 17: THE DREAM OF CRASHING THUNDER
The hunt began not with blood, but with lessons.
Xitij stood tall, tapping his temple like a seasoned mentor who had endured far too many students. His voice carried the weight of authority… with just enough sarcasm to sting.
"For a melee attacker, the FIRST thing is to CLOSE the distance… and then STRIKE with CONFIDENCE."
Einar blinked, raised his hand timidly… then pulled a bow from his bag with a flourish.
Einar: "Uhh, I use a bow."
The sheer awkwardness of the moment could have broken kingdoms.
Xitij froze. His brain visibly rebooted. Then he threw up his arms.
"OF COURSE!! Well… at least you have CONFIDENCE."
Rosé snorted, covering her mouth to hide the laugh, her eyes gleaming like she had just been handed the world's greatest joke.
Xitij quickly recovered, clearing his throat with fake authority.
"Alright then. For YOU, the first step is to TARGET from afar. THEN, you pick the right technique — the one that will LAND CLEAN."
Einar (puffing up proudly): "Well, my supreme technique can land a good blow on ALMOST ANYONE."
Both Rosé and Xitij shared the same silent thought: he's exaggerating… right?
Xitij forced a smile. "Then you deploy it. If prey runs — CLOSE in. If prey counters — BACK UP. And if things get bad… you RUN."
Rosé tilted her chin with smug grace. "Well… you don't HAVE to. Because you have me here."
The moment froze when a JOLT RABBIT bounded into view. Level 4. Known for speed like lightning, claws sharp enough to tear bark, but bodies frail enough that a single clean strike could end them.
Einar's hand flexed over his bowstring. His eyes sharpened. This was his moment.
And then — he CLIMBED. While Rosé and Xitij watched, utterly bewildered, Einar scaled the nearest tree and balanced high upon its branch, overlooking the prey.
Xitij's brows lifted despite himself. "Smart. Height advantage. I didn't even tell him. Good thinking, Frostval."
Rosé pursed her lips but said nothing, silently admitting the boy wasn't entirely hopeless.
Einar inhaled. His fingers glowed faintly as energy crackled around the arrow he nocked.
LIGHTNING ATTRIBUTE: DIVINE TECHNIQUE — CHARGING NODE ONE.
The branch hummed under him as sparks scattered like fireflies. His breath grew steadier, his face focused.
Two minutes later—
CHARGING NODE TWO.
The arrow throbbed with dangerous light, a spear of thunder barely contained. Rosé's smirk faltered. Even Xitij leaned forward, his cocky face shadowed with surprise.
As the arrow started to spark more and more , the pair of observers got more and more uneasy
Xitij : Hey Einar , I think that energy is very much enough for that rabbit .
Rose : Yeah Man , if after all that you miss , I will be the one hunting and the prey will be you .
Two more minutes passed.
CHARGING NODE THREE.
The arrow was no longer an arrow — it was a shard of lightning itself, vibrating with enough power to rattle leaves from the trees. The air smelled of ozone, thick with static.
Einar whispered under his breath, a vow carried by the storm.
"THUNDER ASCENT NODE THREE… WOLF'S FANG!"
He released.
The sky itself seemed to SPLIT. The arrow tore through air, shrieking like a beast, slamming into the ground where the Jolt Rabbit had paused.
The world erupted.
A shockwave BLASTED outward, carving a crater nearly ten meters wide. Soil erupted, trees swayed, and lightning coiled in wild arcs. When the dust settled, the rabbit was nothing but a smoldering mark, cleanly obliterated.
Xitij's jaw HUNG open. Rosé's lips trembled between admiration and disbelief.
Xitij finally exhaled a stunned laugh. "DAMN!!… that was INSANE. You're a bloody sniper of storms! That's one hell of a brain on you, taking that tree perch."
Einar grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Heh… thanks."
And then — he slipped.
One moment, a heroic archer basking in praise. The next — gravity's favorite child.
THUMP.
Einar hit the dirt, arms sprawled, eyes rolling back as he knocked himself clean unconscious.
Narrator: "And thus, the mighty WOLF'S FANG was immediately followed by… the legendary technique of Falling Like a Sack of Potatoes."
As he lay there, the world shimmered. His body pulsed with faint light. MORPHING began, his form subtly glowing as the trial system tallied his first true kill. A warm note flickered over his wrist :
+28 POINTS.
He had scored — while sleeping.
Xitij dragged a palm down his face. "Unbelievable. The kid nukes a rabbit, then naps his way to points."
Rosé shook her head but smiled faintly. "He's ridiculous… but effective."
While Einar slept, she and Xitij picked up the slack — hunting smaller beasts, gathering the last few points needed to reach their targets. Together, the tally rose to completion.
By the time they regrouped, the sun had dipped low, shadows stretching long and cold. The resting centers — those warm, guarded lodges meant for trial-takers — had closed their doors for the night.
Xitij groaned, rubbing his neck. "Great. Perfect. Just what I needed."
Rosé was already unpacking supplies. "Tent it is, then."
And so, beneath the sprawling canopy and the chorus of insects, they pitched their camp. Einar slept on, unconscious yet strangely serene, the faint glow of Morphing still ebbing within him.
The fire crackled, shadows dancing across their tired faces.
Einar unconscious, Rosé quietly amused, and Xitij muttering about "babysitting lightning-charged lunatics."
Narrator:"Well now. One day, one crater, and one knocked-out Frostval later, our little party sets its first camp. Tomorrow's hunt promises more trials, more lessons… and possibly fewer trees sacrificed in the process. Possibly."
Writer: "But until then, dear reader, let the boy rest. He's earned it — branches and all."
And thus, the day closed on laughter, thunder, and an archer who dreamed — even in sleep — of the storm within him.
THE DREAM OF CRASHING THUNDER.