None of them moved.
The archer still had her bow half-raised, arrow nocked but forgotten, staring at the crater like she expected the serpent to crawl back out of it and prove this had all been some trick of the light.
"One attack," the magic swordsman finally said again, quieter this time. "That thing shrugged off everything we had for hours, and you just—" He gestured helplessly at the hole. "One throw."
"Relax, I'm no god." I gave them my most disarming grin. "Just a passerby who happened to be in the neighborhood."
That didn't land the way I wanted it to. If anything, it seemed to unsettle them further — a few exchanged glances, like a "passerby" casually one-shotting 20th level boss .
I always did enjoy playing the humble stranger. There was something satisfying about downplaying strength this absurd, watching people's minds scramble to reconcile the mismatch. It never got old.
"You're telling me," the swordsman said slowly, "that you're just... passing through."
