"I hit a target moving at Mach 2 from fifty meters away," Alvian countered. "I don't need patience. I have calculation."

Aris stood up. He picked up a bow made of white coral.

"Show me."

He pointed out the window. In the distance, miles away, a single, red shape was rising from the trench. A Dragon Scout.

"Hit it," Aris said. "With this."

He tossed Alvian a simple, wooden bow and a single arrow.

It was an impossible shot. The distance was extreme. The water currents were chaotic. The target was moving.

Alvian took the bow. He didn't aim with his eye. He closed his eyes.

"System. Trajectory Calculation. Windage. Current. Target Velocity."

[Calculating...]

[Solution Found.]

Alvian drew the string. He infused the arrow with [Void] mana.

"Release."

The arrow flew. It didn't arc. It flew straight, cutting a tunnel through the water.

Three seconds later.

"THWIP."

In the distance, the red shape spasmed and fell. A headshot.

Aris watched the dragon fall. He nodded slowly.

"Inefficient form," Aris critiqued. "But effective result."

He reached into his quiver. He pulled out a scroll. It was wrapped in shark leather.

"The Fifth Art," Aris said. "[Abyssal Arrow]. It teaches you to compress mana into a single point. To ignore water resistance. To ignore armor. To strike the heart."

Alvian took the scroll.

[Skill Book: Abyssal Arrow (Legendary)]

[Requirement: High Perception. Marksmanship Mastery.]

"Learn," Alvian commanded.

The knowledge flowed into him. He understood now. It wasn't just about shooting. It was about compression. About making the attack so thin, so dense, that nothing could stop it.

"Thank you," Alvian said.

"Don't thank me," Aris said, equipping his own bow. "Just don't miss."

The tower shook. The first wave of Dragons had reached the city perimeter.

"The war is here," Alvian said, looking out the window. "Let's show them why this city has Guardians."

He equipped his Lance. He wouldn't throw it this time. He would fire it.

"System. [Abyssal Arrow] applied to [Lance of the Void Winter]. Ballista Mode."

Alvian stepped onto the ledge. The city of Azureus lay below him, a jewel about to be crushed.

"Not today," Alvian whispered.

He fired.

The arrow did not scream as it tore through the water. It did not hum with power or crackle with energy. It simply erased the space between the tower window and the distant, red shape rising from the trench.

Guardian Aris lowered his bow, his sharp elven eyes narrowing as he watched the projectile disappear into the gloom. He had spent two hundred years perfecting the art of the [Abyssal Arrow], compressing mana until it was denser than a neutron star. He had expected the boy to fail. He had expected the arrow to disintegrate under the pressure of the ocean or drift off course in the chaotic currents.

He did not expect perfection.

"THWIP."

Three miles away, the Dragon Scout—a massive, serpentine construct of bone and red mana—paused. It had sensed a disturbance, a ripple in the mana field. It opened its maw to roar, to signal the Legion behind it.

It never made a sound.

The arrow struck the center of its skull. There was no explosion. There was no splash. The arrow simply passed through the dragon's head as if it were made of smoke. A small, black hole opened at the point of impact, expanding for a fraction of a second before collapsing in on itself with a sickening pop.

The Dragon Scout went rigid. Its eyes, burning with the fire of the earth's core, flickered and died. The massive beast slumped, its buoyancy failing, and began the long, slow drift back down into the abyss.

[Target Neutralized.]

[Proficiency Gained: Abyssal Arrow (Level 1).]

Alvian lowered the simple wooden bow. His arm trembled slightly, not from exertion, but from the sheer density of the mana he had just channeled. The [Abyssal Arrow] was inefficient in terms of mana cost per shot, draining nearly 10% of his pool in a single loose, but the penetration power was absolute.

"Effective," Alvian noted, handing the bow back to Aris.

Aris stared at the falling dragon, then at Alvian. The hermit Guardian, who hadn't spoken to a soul in twenty years, looked shaken.

"You... you corrected for the drift," Aris whispered. "The thermal layers. The mana currents. You adjusted the trajectory in real-time."

"Physics," Alvian said, rubbing his shoulder. "Water refracts light and distorts force. I calculated the distortion."

"That is not physics," Aris said, his voice gaining a hard edge of respect. "That is instinct. That is the soul of a sniper."

"It's math," Alvian corrected, turning to the window. "And we just bought ourselves about five minutes."

The tower shook.

"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"

In the distance, the perimeter of Azureus lit up. The Dragon Scout was dead, but the Legion was not blind. The first wave had reached the city's outer wards. Explosions of red and gold blossomed in the water as the City Watch engaged the invaders.

"The war has started," Alvian said, his eyes glowing violet. "Aris. Do you still have your aim?"

Aris looked at the rack of bows on the wall. He reached out and grabbed a massive longbow made of transparent crystal. It hummed with power.

"I never miss," Aris said.

"Good," Alvian said. "Because I need you to cover the retreat. The outer districts are indefensible. We need to pull everyone back to the Palace Layer."

"You want to abandon the city?" Aris asked, frowning.

"I want to save the population," Alvian replied. "Buildings can be rebuilt. People are resources that take eighteen years to replace. Losing them is inefficient."

He tapped his comms crystal.

"Valeria. Seraphina. Status."

"We're at the North Gate," Valeria's voice crackled back, accompanied by the sounds of clashing steel and roaring beasts. "It's a mess, Alvian! There are hundreds of them! Small ones, like raptors made of magma!"

"Hold them," Alvian ordered. "I'm coming."

He looked at Aris one last time.

"Guardian. The city needs its eyes."

Aris nodded. He stepped onto the ledge of the tower, drew the crystal bow, and nocked three arrows simultaneously.

"Go, Godslayer. I will make it rain."

Alvian didn't wait. He leaped from the window.

"System. Equip [Lance of the Void Winter]."

The black spear materialized in his hand. He didn't activate [Avatar State]; he saved the cooldown. He used gravity. He angled his body downward, diving toward the chaos of the North Gate.

[Current Velocity: Mach 1.]

He was a missile. A weapon. And he was dropping straight into the heart of the enemy.

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