"I see someone in the distance."
Perched atop the brittle branches of a dead tree, the archer narrowed his eyes and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He aimed down at a man walking leisurely through the dungeon, clad in casual clothes and a strange, smiling white mask.
The man wore a dark grey hooded robe over a fitted black battlesuit that pulsed faintly with traces of Mana. It wasn't high-grade armor, but there was something unnerving about the way he moved—too relaxed for someone alone in an E-Rank dungeon.
A low voice crackled through the archer's battlecom.
"Do what you have to do. Scare him off."
"Aye aye, boss," the archer replied with a smirk.
He nocked the arrow, infused it with a trace of Mana, and released. The projectile became a streak of light, slicing through the air toward the masked figure's back.
But just as it was about to hit, the man sidestepped—effortlessly, like he had eyes on the back of his head.
The archer's brow furrowed.
