Night had fully claimed the glowing jungle. Bioluminescent plants cast soft, ethereal light across the camp, turning every leaf and vine into living lanterns. Jean sat near the edge of the clearing, bow in hand, practicing quiet shots at distant glowing fruits. After two days of "peaceful" exploration filled with accidental legends, he was determined to at least improve one skill without causing an international incident.
Just aim, breathe, release, he thought, nocking another arrow. No big gestures. No nervous laughs. No coughing mid-draw. Normal archery practice. Like a normal person in a normal glowing murder-jungle.
Varak stood guard a respectful distance away, axe resting on his shoulder. "The Warmonger trains even under the stars. His dedication inspires us all."
Lirael lurked in the shadows near the tents, ever watchful. "I've set additional wards. Nothing will disturb your focus, my Lord."
Elara sat nearby, tending a small healing flame. "You're actually getting decent with that bow. Just don't accidentally declare war on the trees again."
Jean drew the string, aimed carefully at a high-hanging fruit, and released.
The arrow flew true, straight and clean.
High above in the glowing canopy, Viper the assassin had finally found his moment. Hidden by his perfect artifacts, he had crept into position directly over the Warmonger's camp. This was it. One silent drop, one precise strike to the neck, and the greatest threat in the multiverse would end.
He tensed, preparing to leap.
Then he saw the arrow streaking directly toward him.
Viper twisted mid-prep, dodging by a hair's breadth. The arrow embedded in the branch he had just vacated.
His heart pounded. He saw me. Again. He's been waiting for this exact moment.
Viper looked down. Jean was simply lowering the bow, looking mildly surprised at his own accuracy.
Luck? Or part of the game? Veil thought, paranoia reaching new heights after days of near-misses. He's toying with me one final time.
The assassin steeled himself. No more games. From above. While he's still distracted by his "training."
Veil leapt silently from the canopy, dagger raised for the killing blow, invisible to all.
At that exact moment, Jean, still in practice mode decided to try one upward shot "just for fun." He nocked another arrow, aimed high into the night sky at nothing in particular, and released with a casual flick.
The arrow flew upward in a perfect arc.
It struck Viper mid-leap with pinpoint precision, punching straight through the assassin's chest.
Viper's artifacts failed in the moment of death. His body materialized instantly and fell like a stone, landing with a heavy thud directly in front of the entire group.
Silence.
Then absolute chaos.
Varak's eyes widened in pure reverence. "He… detected the invisible assassin and struck him from the sky with a single casual shot?! While pretending to practice?!"
Lirael's knives already frozen mid-twirl. "A masterpiece of calculation. He allowed the assassin to get close only to end him publicly as a warning. The Warmonger sees all."
The nearby soldiers and scholars who had been watching the "training" dropped to their knees in awe. "He killed an undetectable foe with a training arrow! Truly without equal!"
Elara stared at the body, then at Jean, her expression a perfect mix of shock and dawning realization. "You… didn't know he was there, did you?"
Jean stood frozen, bow still half-raised, face pale. "I… I was just practicing. I didn't even know there was an assassin!"
He looked genuinely stunned, which, to everyone else, looked like the perfect poker face of a master strategist who had just executed a flawless plan.
Varak slammed his axe into the ground. "Even now he downplays his genius! The assassin was clearly sent by the Fracture King to test you. And you ended him with casual training! Glorious!"
Lirael was already examining the body. "Artifacts of stealth. Pantheon make, but the King has used their tools before. This was clearly his doing. We will retaliate accordingly."
Jean opened his mouth to protest, to explain that it was pure, dumb luck but his voice came out in that low, raspy tone that always betrayed him: "I… really didn't see him."
It sounded exactly like a mastermind admitting nothing while confirming everything.
The camp erupted into celebration. The "Training Arrow Execution" was already being turned into legend. Messengers were dispatched to spread word of the Warmonger's latest casual victory over an invisible threat.
Elara helped Jean sit down as the chaos swirled around them. "You had no idea," she whispered, half-amused, half-exasperated. "And now they think you planned the whole thing."
Jean buried his face in his hands. "I just wanted to shoot some fruit…"
As the celebrations continued and the assassin's body was taken away for examination, one thing became clear: No one could trace the attacker definitively. The artifacts were sophisticated. The method was clean.
In the end, they all agreed it had to be the Fracture King's work.
The King's shadow grew longer in their minds.
And Jean, still stunned, could only watch as another accidental victory cemented his terrifying reputation.
Somewhere far away, the Fracture King, unaware of the assassin but pleased with the growing fear, laughed softly in the darkness.
The long game continued.