Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

Chapter 166: BULL’S EYE!

Her name was Panett.

Seren had learned it from their conversations during training sessions, and more formally when she had asked all of the archers to introduce themselves on their first day together.

The name had stuck in her memory.

Well... more precisely, Seren had learned it weeks ago when she first gathered the archers together and asked each of them to introduce themselves. At the time, it had simply been another name among many, a woman from Percvale, an archer, someone willing to train.

A seemingly good Archer.

Panett wasn’t loud or attention-seeking. She kept to herself mostly, spoke when spoken to, and let her bow do the talking for her.

She wasn’t young like Darion or Seren.

But she was still a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, and notably unmarried.

She had also been a good archer while she was young. When she and Seren had discussed their backgrounds back then, Panett had mentioned that she was self-trained. No master, no formal lessons and no expensive tutors. She had just been shooting since she was a kid, picking up a bow her father had left lying around, imitating what she had seen hunters do, figuring out the rest through trial and error. Years of missing, years of adjusting, years of slowly teaching herself until her muscles remembered what her eyes were seeing.

Seren even knew that panett should be a better shooter than her.

That wasn’t an insult to herself.

That should be expected and totally normal actually when you looked at it. She was literally a bullseye. This was her talent. Some people were born to swing a sword, others to ride a horse, others to lead armies. Panett had been born to shoot. Every arrow she loosed seemed to know exactly where it needed to go, as if the bow itself was guiding it.

Seren, on the other hand, wasn’t really an archer at heart. She was a Soilsinger. That was where her true talent existed. Archery had always been something secondary, something she enjoyed, something she practiced because it was useful. She was good at it, better than most people.

It was an hobby that had led to something more serious. All this started with her asking Darion if she could get a bow and arrows because she was bored.

But Panett lived for it.

There was a massive difference there. Talent combined with years of dedication usually produced frightening results, which was exactly what everyone had just witnessed. That shot hadn’t been luck or desperation or some miracle. It was simply Panett doing what Panett did — hitting her target.

No wonder Darion had mentally labeled her the Bullseye Lady. The name fit perfectly. If there was a target, Panett usually hit it. If there was a difficult shot, Panett usually made it. And if there was a moving target trying its hardest not to be hit? Well, the Bogart lying dead on the forest floor was proof of how that usually ended.

Of course, being the best shot didn’t automatically make someone a leader. That was something Seren understood very well. People often confused the two. The strongest warrior wasn’t always the best commander. The smartest person wasn’t always the best teacher. And the best archer wasn’t necessarily the best leader of archers.

Leadership required entirely different skills: patience, organization, decision-making, responsibility, the ability to manage people, the ability to stay calm when everyone else was panicking, the ability to think about more than just yourself.

Panett possessed incredible aim. Seren possessed leadership experience. Those weren’t the same thing. Panett might perform perfectly on her own, but could she coordinate ten other archers?

Some people were exceptional at their craft but terrible at managing others. Panett might just be a solo person, someone who worked best alone, someone who didn’t have the patience or the temperament to handle a group of ten different personalities. Being good with a bow didn’t automatically make someone good with people.

Could she manage supplies? Could she decide where everyone should stand during a battle?

Could she handle disputes between members?

Maybe yes, maybe no. Nobody knew. What they did know was that Seren had successfully built the archers into a functioning group. That alone proved her value. A leader didn’t need to be the strongest person present, a leader simply needed to lead. And Seren was perfectly comfortable with someone else being the better shot.

---

The group gradually recovered from the shock of what had happened. Several archers approached Panett, and the knight approached as well. He looked far more alive now than he had a minute ago. The color had returned to his face, though his expression still carried traces of disbelief.

"Thank you," he said. Then he said it again. Probably because he didn’t know what else to say. What exactly were you supposed to tell someone who had just prevented your death?

Panett seemed slightly embarrassed by all the attention. She accepted the gratitude with a small nod but didn’t appear interested in turning the moment into something grand. As far as she was concerned, she had simply done her job. The knight clearly disagreed. From his perspective, she had just saved his life.

Meanwhile, Seren’s attention had drifted elsewhere, specifically, toward the arrow.

The shot itself was impressive, very impressive, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about. She was thinking about what happened after the arrow struck.

The arrow had gone straight through the Bogart’s hide. Not bounced, not partially penetrated, not stuck halfway. It had pierced deeply enough to kill the creature almost instantly. That wasn’t normal. Bogoarts weren’t invincible, but they weren’t weak either. Their hides were tougher than that. Ordinary arrows didn’t simply punch through them like that, certainly not with such ease.

Several of the archers were definitely thinking the same thing themselves.

"Did you see that?" "It went right through." "How sharp is that thing?" "Was it a special arrow?" The questions spread quickly because they were all wondering the same thing: how had the arrow penetrated so deeply? How had it killed the creature so cleanly?

’What the hell was that arrow?’