Supreme Archer: Taking The Game's Weakest Class To The Top

Chapter 109: The First Dungeon (14)



The swordsman from the first enemy team received the arrow of the Soldier Form.

'He didn't die from the single arrow…' Jake thought as he stared at the damage points he'd inflicted on the man. The numbers were so high that he was confident the man had died.

Since the message following the enemy's death hadn't appeared on his retina, Jake immediately drew his highest and heaviest anchor point.

His muscles were drawn so taut that his leather equipment set seemed to have gotten bulkier and tougher.

The whistle akin to a grim reaper's whisper resounded in Jake's ears—The Headless Hunter once again rocked Jake's heart of archer with its design.

The second arrow flew straight into the enemy's head.

The swordsman, however, pierced Jake and his equipment with a glare. A condescending light brimmed in his eyes as he intensely focused on defeating the archer. He ignored the tank standing nearby because the dark knight hadn't used his taunt on him yet.

'They're looking down on us!' the swordsman thought, his anger blinding his stats and fear that the archer had induced in him, 'They've decided to one versus one each of us! Like I will lose to an archer!'

He went past by Prince and rushed in Jake's direction. Of course, the second arrow was already in motion at this time, ready to finish him.

The swordsman's blade flashed with blueish radiance. It was one of the skills to increase his weapon's damage and penetration power. He crumbled then into a thrusting form, his right arm set forward. He extended his blade like a rocket toward the impending arrow.

'Cutting arrows is much simpler and less intimidating than magic!' the swordsman thought. His humane heart always sank into a lake of incitement when slashing through magic or monsters. Arrows, however, were things of the past. Things that completed bows that had been used in medieval times of his own, magicless world!

In this spur of the moment, the arrow wasn't frightening at all!

Crushing the archery wasn't exciting at all!

He was just so pissed that an archer dared to kill him in such a cowardly way from the shadows!

That was when the sword met the second arrow.

The swordsman's eyes widened. He felt like he had struck a wall. The unbelievable force and weight pressed onto his arm, forcing him to add all of his weight to his sword's blade.

He gritted his strength while pushing more of himself onto the arrow that seemed to have been hanging in the air since his sword met with it!

He couldn't breathe, and before he noticed, sweat mixed with the blood flowing down from his forehead.

The exchange lasted a few precious seconds.

At last, the swordsman's arm started trembling. A moment later, it had given in. The force behind the second arrow chucked the swordsman's dominant hand behind him!

Perhaps the arm would have been severed and rolled on the ground if Jake had more stats.

That said, the numbness weighing down his arm made it feel like he had already lost his arm.

Of course, his duel with the second arrow wasn't an utter defeat. He'd changed the arrow's trajectory, making it lodge in the ground beside him.

Though safe he may have appeared, the swordsman knew that he was already a step into the grave. He couldn't feel his arm, and catching his breath had never been this difficult. His muscles were so strained that he couldn't move and felt as heavy as a boulder.

His sweat permeating his clothes didn't help him at all. It only made him feel like a sore loser.

Various system messages swarmed his eyes.

[You have lost 40% of your stamina in a short amount of time!]

[Your body has been burdened, and your stats have been halved for three minutes.]

Cursing, the swordsman lifted his eyes up.

The mask of the archer that he had been conveniently ignoring had finally gotten to his head.

Once the archer—all fine and full of energy—broke into a smile, the swordsman swore at him.

He thought, 'Which toothpaste you're using to make this damn smile so shiny and pearly, you mother-'

The third arrow whistled.

It pierced through the swordsman's wound on the forehead.

The damage was so high that the swordsman's head had been forcefully parted off his neck.

It felt so surreal. For a few seconds, he felt no connection to his body at all. All weight was gone. He could only feel his head tumbling on the jagged floor. Once his eyes no longer rolled around, the swordsman stared at the archer's teammates, who were having an edge against his friends.

The tank was helpless against Prince's stats and skills.

Anything he threw at him was countered correctly, and then the difference in their equipment caused him to suffer heavy losses. It felt so unfair and painful that the tank felt like crying. He couldn't extend his help to his friends, too, because Prince simply threw the crowd control skills in his way, blocking him.

The woman that the swordsman wanted to catch was also a different person.

She had brought the healer down and forced him to lie on the ground face-first. Her heel pressed at the back of his head, compelling him to stay down like a slave.

She hadn't killed him yet.

In fact, she had been staring at the archer all this time. Her expression was even colder than before, which made her appear to care little about anything but revenge.

Revenge that was meant to be executed viciously.

At last, the swordsman turned into particles.

[You have been killed by Archer.]

[You have lost your sword—The Valkyrie Inspired Sword(Unique).]

'Nooooooo! I spent all my savings to get that sword!' the swordsman cursed in the black room.

He hit his knees before logging out.


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