Chapter 352: The Archer's Triumph
Alistair stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders with easy confidence. The afternoon light caught the edges of his features as he turned towards his companions.
"It appears my turn has arrived," he said, just as Benedict reached them.
Benedict's time had been fifty seconds.
The result was impressive enough that Alistair could feel the weight of expectation settling upon him, though he gave no indication that it troubled him. His smile remained easy, his posture relaxed.
Julian rolled his eyes.
"You know perfectly well that it is your turn," he said. "There is no need for the 'it appears.'"
Alistair chuckled, entirely unbothered by the correction.
The baron possessed an unusual talent for pointing out the obvious with such solemn precision that it became almost endearing.
"Then wish me luck," Alistair said, spreading his arms slightly, as though inviting them to offer him their blessings.
No one did.
He laughed.
