Chereads / I'm An Archer / Chapter 89 - Hidden Massage!

Chapter 89 - Hidden Massage!

Oliver rubbed his sore neck, then stepped through the veil of the waterfall into a hidden world. Everything he needed to finish was complete; now, he just had to see what arrangements his teacher had planned.

He moved to the place he, An, Nisha, and Ziggy had last met to discuss their next steps. Pushing open the door, he found the room as empty as the path he'd just come from. Where was everyone? Where could they have gone at this hour?

As he turned to leave, he noticed two notebooks on the table, their pages flipping in the summer breeze. With no one else around, he decided to tidy up and tuck them away.

First, he picked up the notebook his teacher had left for him, closing it carefully. Then he closed An's notebook. Just as he was about to store them together, he hesitated, a flicker of curiosity stopping him. An had often told him about what she'd written, but he'd never actually read her notes himself.

Surely, there must be more in here than just details about the ten villages.

But would it be wrong to peek?

He stood there, caught between curiosity and respect. Slowly, he set his notebook to the right of An's, side by side. As he stared at the notebooks, another gust of wind blew through the room, stronger than before, lifting the covers and flipping the pages open again.

He glanced around guiltily, then turned back to An's notebook.

Maybe just one look wouldn't hurt…

But what if it's something personal? He wavered, debating with himself, until a sudden breeze whipped the first page of his own notebook loose, sending it fluttering to the ground.

Startled, Oliver quickly grabbed the loose page and set it down on top of An's notebook. As he did, his gaze fell on the first word in An's notebook, partially revealed beneath his misplaced page.

"What's this?" he muttered.

It looked like Elvish, but an older dialect. And as he uncovered the second word, and then the third, he saw that each word in An's notebook matched something in his own.

Holding his breath, he carefully arranged the notebooks side by side. The words connected into a coherent message, one he hadn't anticipated. His heart pounded as he flipped through pages, piecing together phrases that formed a hidden message between the two notebooks.

He quickly rummaged through his belongings, finally finding a blank sheet of paper and a pen, and he began transcribing the combined message, word by word.

Time slipped away as he worked, absorbed completely. Finally, he sat back, eyes wide as he took in the message.

"I'm sorry that only the two of you may ever uncover this secret. Perhaps I'm only being cautious, and this message will go unnoticed…"

Oliver's brow furrowed as he read on.

"…but remember, there is still hope. This trial, after all, was never meant for Oliver. It was intended to prepare the way for the others."

He stared at the words, processing their weight and meaning.

Wait a second. Oliver's brow furrowed as he realized something was off.

The notes seemed to speak directly to him, as if his teacher were standing by his side, giving a final piece of advice:

"Listen closely, Oliver. This trial means nothing to me personally, it won't affect me in any way. But for you, it will change not only who you are now but also your future in ways you can't imagine. You need to decide carefully: will you run or stay?"

Run? That wasn't really an option.

"This trial centers around a monster. You'll know it when you see it."

He felt a jolt, recalling the vague, unsettling creature from his dreams.

"The key to defeating it lies in the longbow I gave you. Whatever happens, don't let it out of your grasp. I would make this trial easier for you if I could, but…it's too late now."

Oliver couldn't quite grasp what "too late" meant in this context. Sometimes, too late could mean a choice made long ago, an irreversible path.

"This creature first appeared ages ago. It doesn't have a gender; it doesn't need one. Any living thing will do for its purpose."

Turning the page, Oliver continued to copy the message, heart pounding.

"The only requirement for its chosen body is that the host must possess one of its fragments."

"Blessing."

A chill ran down his spine, and he wiped cold sweat from his brow. Blessing… was that a condition?

"It's strange that you don't have a blessing. That alone might be enough to protect you."

Oliver read on, feeling both anticipation and fear.

"I can tell you nothing else. May the stars bless you, surrounding you in glory and light."

A trial prepared just for him. The thought filled him with a strange, intense thrill, mixed with anxiety. At last, he had a chance to prove himself, to earn the recognition he'd longed for, even if his teacher would never see it directly.

Oliver rose, his mind racing. According to his teacher, Nisha had a notebook too. If he could find it, perhaps there was even more to uncover. Combined, the information could provide critical insight.

Without wasting another moment, he stuffed the loose page from his notebook into his clothes and dashed out the door.

He reached the courtyard to a strange sight: A was sitting solemnly, B was sneaking glances at A, C was sneaking glances at B, and a few others were watching all three of them in quiet curiosity.

For a brief second, Oliver wondered whether his discovery or this amusing scene was more pressing.

He cleared his throat to make his presence known. But just as he took his first step, An noticed him, and soon everyone else did too, everyone except Enola, who still seemed distant, and Nisha, who wore a look of concern.

With surprising speed, An dashed toward him, magic-free but swift, and caught him off guard with a punch to the chest, sending him flying backward.

As he hurtled through the air, Oliver had one bewildered thought: 'Isn't she supposed to be a mage?'

And then there was Aegnor. Where would his notebook be hidden?

Maybe I could "ask" someone, Oliver thought, considering his options as he crossed back through the waterfall.

He brushed at the blood trickling from his mouth, feeling a bit disheveled but determined. Who should he question? The elves he'd trailed before, the suspected traitors… they might have the answers.

All he had to do was wait for one of them to wander off alone. Then, perhaps, he'd have his lead.