Chapter 95: There are no excuses in my life (6)
The reputation of Tristan was known by every enemy who ever fought against Pendragon.
Was it because of the fierce Crimson Eagles, composed of one hundred powerful knights? No.
Or was it due to their centuries-old lineage and traditions? Not that either.
It was simply...
— “Damn it! Where did that monstrous archer come from?”
Tristan’s archers, known as marksmen, often called "Divine Archers," or at times "Snipers of Cursed Bullets," had, throughout history, built an overwhelming record on the battlefield, often surpassing even their own knights in martial feats.
The commanders of enemy nations fell unfailingly to Tristan’s arrows, which were impossible to evade.
Even protected by magic, Even accompanied by soldiers with shields, Even fleeing as far as they could...
Tristan’s arrows would mock all such efforts, piercing the heads of enemy commanders with chilling precision.
Thus, people would often say:
“Surely, the heads of Tristan must possess some sort of [mystic power]. No matter how skilled one might be in combat techniques, it’s inconceivable for such divine-like archery to exist without some mystical aid.”
But whenever they heard such remarks, the successive heads of Tristan would simply smirk.