The soft glow of dawn had turned into the bright light of the morning but Samar's training still continued. The Archer was much more exhausted mentally than he was physically, due to immense consumption of his concentration.
Beads of sweat drops formed on his forehead as everything disappeared from his vision except for the tiny red dot on the wooden bark a hundred meters away.
Thwip!
The arrow arced through the air and embedded itself into the wooden bark, its tail quivering from tension. Samar wiped the sweat on his eyebrows and looked expectantly at Neil standing beside him.
"You hit all ten targets perfectly in three minutes," Neil evaluated with satisfaction, and his stern look finally relaxed. Showing a rare smile, he complimented, "Not bad!"
Neil led Samar to rest in the shade, knowing how taxing this exercise could be on his concentration. As they rested, he could see discontentment on his son's face and he could not help but tease him.
