Chapter 139: Lethal Richochet

The entire clearing erupted in whispers again.

“Luna, you can’t be serious!”

“She’s really going to do it!”

“This is madness!”

Luca stared at her for a moment, visibly conflicted.

“You might lose your life, you know.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to do this. No one is forcing you.”

But Luna simply showed him a unwavering smile.

“I know, Luca, No one is forcing me and I’m not forcing myself either.” She said softly. “I just believe in your words and know that nothing will happen to me, so it’s really no big deal.”

Then she added, almost playfully,

“Besides, it would’ve been so embarrassing for you if no one volunteered after you said that ’as long as you called, someone would come.’”

She grinned.

“So take this as a favor, Luca. I’m helping you save face.”

With that, she turned and walked toward the same spot where Nyx and Lulu had stood earlier.

She reached the mark, placed the fruit carefully on top of her head, and then stood perfectly still, her hands behind her back, her posture straight.

The elves watched her in awe and horror, while Nyx smirked faintly, crossing her arms.

“Heh. As expected of my niece.” She said, her voice proud and amused. “She’s even braver than me. She takes after me perfectly.”

Then she turned to glance at Leona—only to find her sister’s face pale and stricken.

Leona’s hands trembled at her sides, her eyes fixed on Luna with a mix of love and dread.

Nyx sighed softly and patted her shoulder.

“There’s no use, Leona. Right now, she wants to prove her faith in the Hero and her own courage.”

She said gently before adding,

“And even if you drag her back, she won’t stop. You know how stubborn she is, just like you used to be.”

“So stop worrying so much.” She gave her sister’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Trust your daughter. Or better yet—trust the man she trusts.”

Leona didn’t answer. Her chest was heaving slightly, and her heart pounded so violently that it hurt.

’How many times am I going to watch my family put themselves in danger like this?’

She thought bitterly, pressing a hand against her chest.

Meanwhile, Luca turned toward Julius, who stood frozen, staring at his own daughter like he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“Well then.” He said casually. “It looks like your own daughter trusts you so much that she’s stepping forward for you. A touching sight, isn’t it?”

Julius’s eye twitched, his face twisting with frustration and disbelief.

“Don’t tell me this is part of some plan of yours.” He hissed. “You’re trying to make me shoot my own daughter, aren’t you?”

“And when I do, you’ll use it as an excuse to kill me and claim I broke your damn ’rules’!”

Luca just smiled coolly.

“A plan? No, no, Julius.” He said. “I can assure you—I have no intention of doing anything like that.”

Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he announced,

“In fact, I’ll say it right now: even if you do shoot your daughter—if you kill her right here in front of everyone—I won’t lay a single finger on you.”

The words sent a wave of shock through the entire clearing.

“What?!”

“He won’t do anything?!”

“He’s serious?”

Leona gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth.

“What—what is he saying?!”

But Luna didn’t flinch. She stood calm as ever, her eyes fixed on Luca like he was her emotional support.

Luca then turned to Julius and held up his hand.

“But before you do anything, just hold on a moment.”

He began walking to the side, stopping about sixty paces away—placing himself at a specific angle on Luna’s side.

“There we go.” He said, with a knowing look in eyes like he was planning something. “Now then, go on, Julius. It’s your turn. Your time has come.”

“Show us your skills.”

But even with Luca calling him out, Julius didn’t know what to do.

The bow in his hand suddenly felt heavy, heavier than it ever had before. His palms were slick with sweat, and his throat was dry as sand.

The truth was simple: Julius had no skill in archery, not enough to hit such a tiny target from this distance.

He could heal wounds, yes—but shoot fruits that were fields away?

Not a chance.

His mind raced, his heart pounding.

And honestly, he didn’t even care about killing Luna.

She meant little to him, none of his daughters did.

To Julius, they were bargaining chips at best—tools for political gain.

Perhaps, one day, he could have married them off to a human prince and earned favor, status, or coin.

That was all the value he saw in them.

If she died now, he’d think it a pity—but nothing more.

The real problem was the aftermath.

If he actually shot and killed Luna now, he would lose everything—the fragile control he had over the males, the respect he still pretended to hold, and any standing with the females.

They would all turn on him, together. He’d be exiled—or worse.

He clenched his jaw, thinking bitterly, ’Damn it. If only I’d just admitted earlier that I couldn’t do this…’

If he’d simply swallowed his pride when Luca first challenged him, the matter would have ended there.

He’d have been mocked for a day, perhaps two—but nothing permanent.

But his arrogance had dragged him deeper, step by step, until now there was no way out.

If he didn’t shoot, he’d be branded a coward, a fraud, and a liar.

He’d lose his authority entirely. The males would replace him the moment he faltered.

If he did shoot, he risked killing his daughter and sealing his doom anyway.

He was trapped by his own pride.

’No.’ He told himself, breathing hard. ’There’s still one way.’

He’d pretend to try—make it look convincing—but intentionally miss.

He’d aim slightly off to the side and the arrow would fly past her harmlessly, and he could claim he’d just ’narrowly missed.’

It would still be humiliating, but far less so than murder.

With that thought, he straightened, forcing a shaky smirk.

He raised the bow slowly, pretending to take aim.

His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears.

From where he stood, Luna looked calm, too calm.

Her expression was almost peaceful, as if she had already accepted whatever fate awaited her.

He gritted his teeth. ’Foolish girl.’

Finally, he took a breath and pulled the bowstring back. The bow creaked under the tension. His hands were trembling slightly, but he ignored it.

All around, the elves had gone silent.

Everyone was holding their breath.

And then—

TWANG!

The arrow flew.

But the moment it left the string, Julius’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.

His fingers had slipped slightly from the sweat and the tension, his stance uneven from his shaking.

The release hadn’t been clean at all.

And as he watched, his eyes widened in sheer horror—because instead of flying wide to the side like he had planned, the arrow was flying straight toward Luna.

Right at her chest.

And not just anywhere—right where her heart was.

The ideal archer’s dream.

But Julius’s worst nightmare.

The color drained from his face.

’No. No, no, no, no—!’

Gasps also erupted from the crowd as they also realised the arrow’s deadly path with their sharp eyes.

“It’s going straight for her!”

“Luna! Move!”

“Somebody stop it!”

“LUNA!” Leona cried, taking a desperate step as if she could throw herself in front of her daughter—only to realize she was far too late.

The arrow was already halfway there.

And yet…Luna didn’t move.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even raise a hand to protect herself.

She remembered Luca’s calm voice from before, the quiet assurance in his tone when he said she would be fine.

And in that moment, she chose to trust him completely.

The arrow closed the distance—

One more second. One more breath—

But just as they were about to see a father kill his own flesh and blood right before their eyes—

A second arrow whistled through the air from the side.

It came faster, sharper—cutting across the clearing from an angle that no one had even seen.

And before anyone could even process it—

CLANG!

The two arrows collided midair with a deafening snap.

A perfect, precise impact.

The arrow Julius had fired shattered cleanly in half—the front tip spun off, while the back half dropped harmlessly into the grass.

Gasps erupted everywhere.

The shot that should have killed Luna had been destroyed.

And standing a few paces to the side, bow still raised, was Luca—his posture relaxed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as if he’d known exactly what was going to happen.

The crowd was frozen.

It was as if time itself had stopped.

Then slowly, disbelief gave way to awe.

A single elf whispered. “He…He hit it…”

“He split it…” Another breathed, eyes wide. “He actually shot the arrow in midair…”

And then, like an explosion, the entire clearing erupted.

“HE DID IT!”

“IT’S A MIRACLE!”

“HE’S A GOD OF ARCHERY!”

The elves cheered wildly, clapping, shouting, crying in disbelief. Some even fell to their knees, praising him.

But before anyone could say anything more, two sudden screams tore through the cheers.

“AAAAH! THE ARROW! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!”

Everyone froze again.

“What—?!”

“Who screamed?!”

Then another voice joined in, high and panicked.

“IT HURTS! AHHHH—! FUCK IT HURTS SO MUCH!”

The crowd turned in confusion, eyes darting around—until someone shouted.

“Over there!”

And when they looked, the elves gasped.

Two male elves were lying on the ground, writhing in pain—Isaac and Rufus.

The two were groaning, blood seeping through their clothes.

Isaac was holding his shoulder, an arrow sticking out just below his collarbone, his face twisted in agony.

Rufus was far worse—he lay on his back, gasping, blood pouring from a deep wound in his gut where an arrow had pierced straight through. His eyes were wide with panic, his voice hoarse.

“IT HURTS—ahh—it hurts so much! SOMEONE HELP ME!”

“Stay still!” Someone yelled, rushing over. “Don’t move, Rufus!”

The elves rushed over in panic, some trying to pull the arrows out while others shouted for help.

Everyone’s faces were frozen between shock and horror as realization hit them all at once.

The debris from Julius’s broken arrow—and the force of Luca’s shot—had ricocheted directly toward the two men.

Julius’s defected shaft had impaled Rufus through the stomach.

Luca’s arrow had buried itself in Isaac’s shoulder.

It was absurd.

It was miraculous.

It was terrifying.

And just like that, instead of Luna being the one hurt—two of Julius’s men were lying on the ground, bleeding and screaming.

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