Prologue

The wind howled fiercely as a team of hikers made their way forward, wading through snow a full foot deep. The going was steady even as the white powder continued to fall from the sky, the strong wind whipping the snow into the faces of those walking.

The group was large, consisting of around 20 people, the majority of them covered from head to toe in pitch black clothing. Those sporting the black clothes surrounded the five or so others dead center of the rest, those who had chains on their hands and collars around their necks. This was a team of travellers and their own personal slaves, a natural sight to see throughout the world, let alone in the Human territory. No one would find anything odd about this group and wouldn't bother to look twice. That is, if anyone had happened to be out during this borderline blizzard. Though the forest they were walking through usually had many travellers passing through, not a soul was in sight. This by itself was unusual as even one or two people could be seen every so often even in extreme weather like this.

"How much longer until we get to Arial City?" The male in the front of the group shouted in order to be heard as the non-stop wind drowned out everything else. "Its already been several days since we left. Shouldn't we be close?"

Nanda, the one the front man had shouted at and the navigator of the group, grit his teeth. He was cold, wet, hungry, and tired. Not to mention that he hated this ragtag group of human travellers, only partnering with them to reach Arial City relatively safely. As the only non slave elf in the group, it repulsed him to even talk to the walking piles of trash known as humans. Nevertheless, he had been paid handsomely for navigating and he would always do his job without complaint as long as he was paid. It still sickened him to no end and he would've been happy to go the whole way without stopping to speak to the others even once.

"It should be just a few more hours Recoom," Nanda replied, his voice travelling back over. "Just tough it out a bit longer. We'll get there eventually."

Thwishhhhhhhh!!

A sort of whistle akin to tearing paper reached Nanda's pointy ears as a long arrow pierced the throat of the person next to him. The elven male didn't even have time to properly react as a second arrow pierced the chest of another human, killing him instantly.

Blood painted the snow as arrows rained down one by one, each one accurately hitting its intended target. Shouts and screams rang out but they could barely be heard over the roar of the wind and were silenced almost the moment they opened their mouths.

(("What the hell is happening?!")) Nanda could hardly think as he attempted to find where the arrows were coming from. (("Is it magic?? No, I'd be able to feel it from at least ten miles away. Even if it was magic item I could still feel it."))

Nanda clenched his teeth together as he channeled magic into the pendant hanging around his neck. Light began emanating from it as more and more magic was infused into the pendant until eventually a small barrier formed around the elven male. This was an A rank magic item that Nanda had worked his ass off to get, working countless jobs without rest, and it was worth it. As long as he had magic power to exchange, this pendant would protect him from any attack be it physical or magical.

The wave of death continued as everyone dressed in black fell to the ground, either dead or on the verge of death, the falling snow already starting the progress of covering up the blood. Only six people remained now, Nanda and the slaves, all of whom hadn't been touched even once.

(("Just who the hell is this guy?")) Nanda couldn't help but be amazed at the pure marksmanship. Each arrow had been precise and spot on, something that should've been impossible to do in this blizzard without the help of magic.

However, no matter how hard Nanda searched for a trace, he couldn't find the slightest hints of any magic being used. It just didn't make any sense how someone could shoot so accurately without utilizing any magic or magic item. Elves were arguably the best with a bow and arrow and even the top elven master couldn't shoot with such amazing precision and from such a distance in a full on snow storm.

Thwish!! Chink!!

An arrow aimed straight for Nandas head bounced off the shield, causing the elf to flinch. Without even looking back, Nanda began to run, hoping to put some distance between him and this insane sniper. He could feel his magic depleting rapidly as arrows continued to bounce off his shield, each one no doubt being as lethal as the others had been.

(("Who is this guy? His skill....his accuracy is unreal!!")) Nanda thought as his shield finally broke apart.

Almost the moment the barrier shattered, another arrow slammed into his shoulder, throwing to the ground. He wasn't sure why he the archer had hit his shoulder but he knew it wasn't because the attacker had missed. Every shot, even if the target had been moving, had been hit with extreme precision with little to no error. The sniper had definitely aimed for his shoulder instead of killing him, though he had no clue as to why.

Blood spilled from his wound as he attempted to sit up, his cold and soaking wet body shivering as more and more snow whipped into his face.

"Damn you!!" Nanda shouted as he turned towards where he thought the arrows had come from. He couldn't see very far due to the falling snow, but even so he was able to pick out a person walking towards him with slow, steady movements. "I'll have your head for this you filthy-"

Nanda never got to finish his sentence as an arrow flew through the air, slipping through his head and instantly ending his life. The elven male fell to the ground, blood soaking into the white powder that continued to pile on the floor.

A figure dressed in white, a bow clutched in his right hand, walked forward, bright eyes flashing. The mysterious person yanked the arrow out of the ground and washed it off with some snow before tucking back into the quiver attached to his back.

"Scum. Next time, don't associate yourselves with slave traders." The white figure said as he turned around. "You brought this on yourself."

The figure waded easily through the snow, walking until he returned to where the five remaining figures were, all chained together and unable to agree on which way to run. It was clear they were cold and afraid, unable to do anything except wait to be slaughtered. They became even more frantic the moment they saw the white garbed figure approaching them.

"Its okay," The figure said, his gentle voice causing the slaves to stand still for a few seconds. "I'll free you."

"Who....are you?" One of the slaves asked. "Are you here to help us?"

"That I am," The white figure replied as he stepped forward, pulling a sharp silver axe from the side of his hip. Lifting the heavy weapon, he sliced through each chain as if they were made of butter. "No one was made to do others bidding. We all have a choice. To fight or serve should be our own will."

After about five minutes, all five slaves had not only been freed but had also stolen the coats from their dead captors, allowing them to warm up. Each time they addressed the white figure, they spoke politely and with reverence. It was clear that they appreciated their newfound freedom and held the mysterious male in high regard.

"About 3 hours north from here you'll find the city of Arial," The figure said. "Head to the pub called The Flying Boar. Go to the counter and say, 'I Would Like The Daily Special, Extra Special'. You'll be given a place to stay for a while and enough time to collect your bearings. After you get yourself together, you'll be on your own. I wish you the best of luck."

The former slaves didn't even have time to utter a thank you before the figure turned around and walked off into the blizzard.