05. The Kingdom of Veston

Passing through the city gates, Yumino felt as if he had stepped into a fantasy book. The tall walls, old houses, modestly dressed common folk, and bustling atmosphere seemed to be pulled out of children's books, but it was all real, so real that he could even smell it. Sadly, the small was less than pleasant.

"I must say, getting into the city was surprisingly easy. Are you not wary of ill-willed people?"

"Ill-willed? In what way?"

"Like... thieves or maybe spies from an enemy kingdom."

"Spies? Thieves? Haven't I told you? There is no need for such practices here. Why would anyone try to steal or plunder when stockpiles are always full?"

As he looked around, things started making sense for Yumino. There was not a single food merchant on the streets. Everyone was selling homemade goods, cooked food, or jewelry, but nobody was selling basic supplies.

"Do you get them all from the city stockpile?"

"You catch on quick! Yes, that we do! Everyone just goes there and takes whatever they need."

"With no regulations? How do you stop people from taking too much?"

"Hm? Why would they take more than they need?" Averin asked with a confused expression. Yumino did not answer—the discussion was obviously going nowhere.

*****

"You stay here; I'll call my friends and decide what to do with you. It may take a while, so you can do some target practice over there! You elves love archery, right?"

Yumino refused to comment on that—instead, he headed towards the archery range. The bow he was holding was not the type he was used to, but it was a bow nevertheless. Combined with the shooting range, it gave the outsider a place where he could feel like home.

"Time to see what I could have done at the nationals," he said as he drew his bow and aimed at the target placed furthest away. He steadied his breath, relaxed his body, and released an arrow. It flew with unnatural speed, missing the target by a good margin but damaging the ground behind it.

There was no need for words—Yumino's expression said it all.

With his pride hurt, he took another arrow and aimed at the second furthest target.

He missed.

He grabbed another arrow and shot it at a target in the middle.

He missed.

In frustration, he placed one more arrow on the string and shot it at the closest target—one that was clearly meant for youngsters.

He missed.

Defeated, Yumino fell on the ground, his legs flung upwards as his head hit the ground.

"Hah... At least now I know it was never meant for greatness..."

Yumino was ready to admit his lack of skill when he heard a feminine voice laughing in the distance. He got up and angrily scanned his surroundings in search of the person who was having a blast watching him fail, but there was nobody around. That's when he realized—the voice laughing belonged to the person he had already met in his dreams— the lady who would help him in dire times.

"I bet it must be funny, huh? Watching an outsider fail where elves should never have a hard time..."

"Sorry! It really was a fun watch, I admit," the voice responded after regaining her composure. "After all, I've told you before, right? That's not how you do it."

Yumino got up, ready to start a fight with someone he could only hear, but instead he felt an invisible touch guiding him. The touch felt anything but solid, like he was being guided by gentle winds; nevertheless, it was enough for him to understand how she wanted the man to position his bow.

"Sideways?! How is that supposed to be better?"

"I've told you before, right?" the voice continued. "Elves shoot their bows sideways."

Suspecting that it wouldn't work, Yumino was hesitant to try it, but remembering how the ghostly lady had saved his life before, he decided to give in and shot at the nearest target.

Bullseye.

Not only did the arrow hit dead-center, it also shattered the target as if it were an unlucky apple placed on the head of a scared clown at the circus.

"It worked?"

Yumino was amazed by how his aim and power had increased from utilizing a bow the wrong way.

He decided to test on other targets to see if it was a fluke, but he was left speechless after managing to pierce every target.

"I know you're making that 'told you' face wherever you are. Come on, you can say it."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the lady said in a smug voice that confirmed Yumino's assumption.

"Hah, whatever. Now look at this!"

As the elf said that, he locked his aim on the furthest-placed target—the one that he had first aimed for. With a smile of confidence, he let go of the string and launched his arrow.

The arrow flew with incredible speed, piercing the air with a sharp sound. By the standards of his old world, no arrow shot from a bow could have so much power—no, no arrow could carry so much power without breaking on the spot.

But the arrow was not heading for the target. Instead, it was heading right for a well-dressed passerby. By the time Yumino realized what he had done, it was already too late—the arrow was going to pierce the poor man.

Yumino stared powerless at the man, only to see how the arrow had barely missed him.

Overwhelmed by panic, Yumino ran towards the man frozen in bewilderment, screaming in an attempt to make sure he was unhurt. Once he got near him and confirmed he was unhurt, Yumino finally let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know how that happened. I must have lost my balance or something..."

"Oh? And just by losing your balance, you ended up shooting my way? Even though I barely entered your peripheral view?"

Yumino was felt speechless. However they looked at it, the shot seemed intentional.

"Ah, I am just teasing you!" the tall man continued, displaying a friendly smile that accentuated his long canines. "No harm done! As you can see, the arrow did not get to me."

While Yumino was busy bowing his head out of habit, a familiar voice screamed his name in urgency.

"Yumino, what did you just do?" Averin screamed as she ran towards the two of them in a fit of panic.

"I am so sorry, Lord Dravahl. I left him here to practice for a bit. I had no idea something like this would happen."

"Wait, a lord?"

Just as Yumino was about to curse his luck, he noticed even more people approaching from behind Averin.

"Couldn't have found a better time. Is this the moment I go to the dungeons? Isn't this twist a bit too cliché?" Yumino asked the skies, imagining how some unknown gods laughed at him.

"Don't worry, Miss Brielle! As I was also telling him, no harm was done. Also, I've told you countless times... Please, call me Lucien."

"Haha! You hear that? Lord Lucien wants to be friends with our little Averin!" a loud voice from the group left behind called out. The voice belonged to a large man carrying a sword the size of the one Averin held, but wearing little armor—unlike her.

"So..." the man, claiming to be a lord, continued. "Is this the elf you've managed to save?"

"Yes, sir! This is Yumino, one of the last surviving elves of Alenrius."

"A survivor? I see."

The man called Dravahl Lucien smiled at the new visitor.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Veston!