Elodrin's grand display of might entered its second day. The first day had been a spectacle of duels: brutal, dazzling contests of strength and pride.

Fenric, Yeon, and Khali had chosen to fight openly before the masses, cutting through their opponents with skill and overwhelming force. For them, showcasing raw power was preferable to wasting effort on elaborate demonstrations, and the crowd had roared their approval at every clash of blade and spell.

But the second day bore a very different air.

The venue itself had shifted. No longer confined to the stadium's massive stands, the gathering now found itself beyond the city walls, in a broad expanse of meadowland where the horizon seemed endless. The grass swayed under a cold morning wind, and the faint murmur of a nearby river carried through the air. The city's noise was far behind them, leaving only the sound of banners flapping and the whispers of thousands of spectators who had made the pilgrimage to witness what few ever saw.

Today, the stage belonged not to the armoured Knights who could crush a foe in single combat, nor to the Magicians whose spells could reshape the battlefield itself. Instead, it was a day to honour the auxiliary units—those who could not fight in open combat, but excelled in enhancing the Knight Order.

The first to step forward was Venya Vortessa, the famed ranger of Eldorin. She strode into the meadow with unshakable poise, her ashwood bow resting in her hand like an extension of her very being. Her dark green cloak fluttered lightly, blending her figure with the surrounding grasslands.

Though her eyes remained closed, her presence radiated awareness: every shift in the wind, every rustle of leaves, every breath of those around her seemed to touch her soul. To Venya, the field was not empty; it was alive, an incredible tapestry of hidden threads, each one waiting to be plucked.

It was the opening of her mind's eye, a technique unique only to the most skilled of archers.

Even in [Bright], Venya's position was special. Venya, the God Archer, was part of the original Hero's party, alongside Ellahan, the Saintess, Johann, the Archmage, and Manon, the Sky Spear. Together, the five heroes roamed the Hyades Republic, hunting the Demon Cult and resolving issues as they adventured.

There were days when they would enter unfathomable dungeons that went deeper than hell's gate. Other days, they would rise to the highest peaks and fight flying beasts that would rule the skies. Ultimately, the story of [Bright] couldn't be written without Venya at its core.

That was why Amon recruited the God Archer early, even going as far as to put her as an executive, even though others had better qualifications and drive than her.

Venya's background was quite simple—a mercenary who was talented with the bow and arrow.

She wasn't an orphan tortured by the horrors of war, and neither did she have an outright sob story. She fought Demons because she was good at it, and it earned her a decent income.

But that was until recently… when she faced off against the Apostle of Chaos.

She saw the horrendous sight of what a Demonic Human could do, and more importantly, what would happen if the Demon Cult were to have its way. They would overrun the entire Hyades Republic, eroding human society piece by piece. In due time, the Demon Cult would become an unstoppable train that nothing could stop… therefore, she embraced Eldorin's goal wholeheartedly.

And after she returned from the Clay Emperor's dominion, Venya did something she would have never done before… she trained.

She rid herself of her slothful ways and trained desperately, as if her life depended on it. The growth of the God Archer, which should have begun a few more years from now, was accelerated with her resolve.

Around the edges of the field, elaborate constructs and enchanted mechanisms had been set up—targets that mimicked beasts darting through tall grass, phantasmal soldiers appearing and vanishing in shifting formations, even conjured weather meant to test precision under pressure.

The onlookers leaned forward in anticipation. For while the Knights embodied valour and the Magicians embodied destruction, it was said that Venya embodied inevitability: when her bowstring sang, nothing escaped.

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh…

Like a metronome, Venya's bowstring sang. Arrows flew with rhythmic precision, and they all hit their targets mercilessly. Distance wasn't an obstacle to the God Archer, as all of her arrows traversed miles within seconds. Laced with ruthless mana and guided by the authority of the wind, Venya showcased her talents to the highest degree.

All of the spectators, other than the Eldorin members, gaped in awe, watching Venya's performance as if it were a magic show. They had never seen an archer display such a mastery over her weapon.

"Venya Vortessa, was it? Why didn't the Demon Hunter League recruit her?"

Lady Katrina Voss, President of the Demon Hunter League, sighed with pity. Such a talent would be warmly welcomed to her organisation, and it would be a stretch to say that Venya would be in a prime position to succeed her.

"Vivi was in the Demon Hunter League… It's just that she was let go before her talents bloomed."

"... what did you say?"

Yue's 'kind' explanation struck Katrina like a sledgehammer.

"It seems that she was kicked out for being an alcoholic and never completing missions on time. After she was let go, she wandered around, working as a mercenary for a few years before we found her on one of our adventures."

"..."

Katrina was at a loss for words. Venya was a talent worthy of becoming her successor… and yet, she slipped through her fingers even before she got to know her. It was like discovering that the top supermodel of the era was once the unwanted girl in high school.

'I'll find out who was the one who let her go and punish them severely.'

The President swore, sending a silent chill down one of her subordinates' spines. To be frank, Katrina's subordinate was blameless. Who would have guessed the drunkard failure would have turned out to be one of the greatest archers of all time?

If it weren't for Amon's knowledge of the future, he wouldn't have bothered with Venya at all, leaving her drunk in the tavern where they met.

After twenty minutes, Venya finished her display to a thunderous applause. Instantly, everyone's attention was focused on the dazzling huntress who displayed a level of mastery never seen before in her field. Feeling their attention on her, Venya gave a humble bow before returning to the Eldorin crowd.

"Show-off!" Khali nudged Venya's slim waist and poked fun at her mercilessly. "You always wished to remain on the down-low… what changed?"

"Since I'm here, I thought I would give it my all… also, I want to attract some attention for once. If I can get a master bowman interested in me, I can find ways to improve my craft." Venya spoke sombrely.

Unlike the Knights and Magicians, who had numerous experts who could serve as mentors, few could claim they'd mastered the art of the bow. And that was the plateau… the limit that Venya felt herself rapidly approaching.

She could see the end of her growth, and that alone terrified her.

Venya wished to grow, even faster than the talented Solaris Knights or the prodigal Magicians who breathed mana faster than oxygen. But the faster she grew, the more she realised where her limits lay.

"Why don't you just ask the Commander? I'm sure he'll find a proper mentor."

"The commander, huh? That's not a bad idea."

Venya's relationship wasn't the best, but it wasn't terrible either. Amon would always try to accommodate Venya as long as it didn't jeopardise his goals. But alas, Venya always found Amon slightly tricky to approach and work with, especially since she was well aware of his transcendental strength.

"I'll think about it."

Venya was blissfully unaware that someone was already calling out to Amon about the potential for mentoring her at that very moment.

❖❖❖

The second day continued swimmingly well. The other two that were present to showcase their strength were Lutz and Ines.

Lutz was an artificer whose brilliance lay not in battle, but in creation. His craft was the forging of weapons, constructs, and intricate automata—machines of iron and mana, rather than flesh and blood.

Unlike the duelists and spellcasters before him, he did not dazzle the crowd with fire and steel. Instead, his showcase was a lecture in motion, diagrams unfurling in glowing light as small clockwork models clicked and whirred to life around him. He spoke of principles, of systems, of a future where war would be fought not only by the gifted few, but by the ingenuity of human hands.

For the Knights and Magicians, this was a tedious affair. Their pride lay in the honing of their bodies and spirits, in the sharpening of steel and spell until neither man nor beast could stand before them. To their ears, Lutz's words sounded like idle theory, a dull replacement for true mastery. More than one knight yawned, and several magicians whispered among themselves, dismissing him as a dreamer.

But not all shared that view.

Among the wider audience, his words struck like sparks against dry kindling.

Those without talent for swordplay or spellwork found themselves leaning forward, eyes alight with hope. For here stood a man who had no gift for combat, yet claimed he had stood against demons fierce enough to make hardened knights falter. And he had survived not through might, but through machines of his own making.

The merchants in the stands were the most enraptured of all. Their minds whirred faster than Lutz's automata as they envisioned patents, mass production, and markets unbound. If even a fraction of his designs could be replicated, the balance of power would shift.

Ordinary men and women could wield the strength of knights, not through decades of gruelling training or rare talent, but through accessible tools. Profit gleamed in their eyes, but so too did a vision of empowerment: an army of regular people, elevated by innovation rather than birthright.

Then there was Ines.

Ines Mirevale was a shaman of enigmatic origin, walking a path utterly foreign to the established traditions of magic.

Where most Magicians traced their lineage of knowledge back to the great academies or the ancient grimoires, Ines followed a current entirely her own—one rooted in spirits, whispers of the land, and rites forgotten by the wider world.

To those gathered, she did not merely perform; she unveiled an entirely new dimension of possibility.

For generations, the art of healing had been the near-exclusive domain of the Holy Church, whose holy power could mend flesh and bone, or of rare bloodlines like the Solaris, whose bodies themselves carried restorative gifts.

Beyond these exceptions, most magicians accepted that healing was beyond their reach. Yet Ines shattered this assumption with quiet certainty. Her shamanic arts wove vitality into her allies, closing wounds and knitting flesh with herbs, chants, and spirit-guided energy. Though her healing could not rival the miraculous restorations of a Saintess, it excelled in subtler, practical ways.

She could cleanse fatigue from weary bodies, sharpen dulled reflexes, soothe minds frayed by long campaigns, and draw poison out of veins with uncanny precision—ailments the Church's miracles were notoriously poor at addressing.

In battle, this made her indispensable.

Where a Saintess could raise the fallen in a blaze of holy power, Ines could ensure an entire company never reached that point of collapse to begin with. Her support did not come in bursts of glory but in sustained resilience, the difference between a force that staggered after the first clash and one that endured through the longest of sieges.

To the spectators, it was humbling. To the magicians, it was unsettling. And to the common soldier, it was nothing short of revolutionary.

While lacking in combat ability, these two more than made up for it with their support capability. So much so that every audience member with a certain degree of influence wished to poach them off Eldorin immediately.

Naturally, with Amon at the helm, that wouldn't happen.

'Improving their reputations is key… When the time comes, we'll need to move Lutz and Ines to the sidelines, where their talents can shine better.'

Lutz and Ines were two aces that Amon had kept safe until the time was right. If the war against the Demon Cult should reach a stage of no return, he needed their talents to empower regular humans rapidly. Lutz would mass-produce weapons and automata, while Ines would focus on constructing pills and cures for a potential demonic plague.

But for now, it was more important to facilitate their growth.

[Master Amon… I found it.]

[...]

At that critical juncture, Amon heard Bane's voice echo within his ears. Standing up from his seat, he excused himself from the grassland and disappeared without anyone following him. There were a few who questioned Amon's disappearance, but it was met with a gracious smile from Yue.

"Amon has some pressing matters to attend to. If you'd like, you can talk to me."

Yue's calming tone made her seem like a patient housewife who was covering up for her husband. And well, to a certain extent, it was precisely what was going on.

'Well, when he returns, I'll make him pamper me for two hours straight!'