Julius knew he couldn't stay here any longer.
Luca had done it—not once, but twice.
Two impossible shots, each more spectacular than the last.
The crowd adored him now more than ever.
The female elves were practically worshipping him, and even the males were looking at him with something like grudging respect.
And now, all eyes would naturally turn to him—the great healer, the so-called master to take his turn.
But Julius knew the truth. He had no confidence at all.
If he even tried to shoot that arrow, he'd humiliate himself beyond repair. The only way to save face now was to leave—quietly, before anyone noticed.
So, while the elves were still laughing and celebrating, he began to inch backward, step by step, trying to slip out through the crowd without drawing attention.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn't subtle enough.
"Hey!" one of the female elves called out, pointing at him with a grin. "Where are you going, Julius?"
Immediately, the others turned.
