The air was solemn. Damon felt the world slow down—not because of a skill, but the cold realization that he was the target of a sniper. Worse, he couldn't move. 'This is going to be a long twenty seconds.' He sent his shadow toward the direction of the building. It would deal with the aftermath. Damon needed to bulk up his defense. He activated the Sovereign Mantle form of the Armor of the Pale Crown. In an instant, the regal ashen armor shifted—its form thickening, becoming heavier. He was encased in dull, grey metal. He could feel the soul core of the armor vibrating. His face was covered by a faceless helm, yet somehow… he could still see. It was as if he were peering through shadows. The crown on his head rose, hovering above him. It twisted, adding more coils to its form, and floated behind him like a dark, ominous halo. He took a deep breath… raised his bow… and knocked an arrow. Another breath. Calm. Steady. He focused on his target, trying to recall everything Back-to-Back had taught him about shooting at long range. He could almost hear the elf's voice behind him… Telling him to steady his breath... A red beam highlighted the path of his arrow, a result of Dead Eye. He would have used Bloodletting, but it was useless. This opponent didn't have blood. There was no point. He fired his arrow before the undead archer fired his. The arrow soared through the air, reaching the tower window. The undead archer merely swatted it aside with his hand. Valarie let out something like a sigh—if it could be called that. She no longer had a body, only a mouth. "The arrows lose momentum before they reach him. He'll just catch them…" Damon gritted his teeth as another arrow thundered through the air. This time, the archer wasn't being subtle. Sonic booms cracked the silence. He couldn't dodge—if he did, Sylvia would be hit. He raised his sword just in time. The impact came with a boom. The air shuddered. Damon was pushed back slightly as the arrow shattered into shrapnel. Fragments clanged against his armor like angry hail. The pain was dulled by his armor. He swung his sword aside and raised a hand. A barrage of black flames erupted, engulfing the skeletons attempting to climb the roof. Agony surged through him. Burning agony—no, ten times the agony of burning alive. He coughed, suppressing a groan. Even with pain resistance, tenfold, self-immolation was a torment no one should have to endure. But he stood. He knocked another arrow, eyes burning with fury beneath his faceless helm. He aimed. Valarie finally spoke. "Madness is trying the same thing over and over again…" She paused. "Try using a rune… of acceleration." Damon's jaw clenched. "And that would be?" She responded quickly. "Draw a rune that looks like drifting wind…" She puckered her lips and shaped one in front of him with magical light. Damon gave a quick nod as the undead archer prepared another shot. "How do I draw it?" She smiled, a mocking edge in her voice. "My apologies, I forgot you're ignorant." "Create a projection of the rune in your mind. Then let mana flow from your circuits. I'll send the image into your mind…" Damon didn't resist. He didn't trust her—but he was desperate. And pissed. He felt the mark etch itself into his mind. He followed her guidance, eyes closed, allowing her to guide his hand. Slowly, at the tip of his bow, a rune began to form—black, born of his shadow attribute mana. It radiated speed. It seemed as if the world had been touched by his power and he had brushed some invisible law. At that moment, Sylvia groaned. Her eyes glowed. "I found him. Let's go!" Damon didn't move. He was still aiming. The sniper was still aiming. They locked eyes—one living face coverd in helm, the other hollow and dead. The snipers bow glowed. Runes circled it like a halo. Valarie sensed the tension. "Whoever hits… wins." Sylvia sensed Damon's focus and drew her Ascendant Weapon. Twin blades shimmered in her hands as she tore through skeletons trying to climb up. She kicked down a chain, sending a mace-wielding undead crashing to the ground. Damon zoned in on the sniper. He steadied the rune, ensuring its formation was perfect. "Steady…" Valarie whispered. His eyes caught the creak of the bow. The undead had notched an arrow, ready to fire. "Now—" she began, as if giving a signal. But the archer fired first. Two black streaks shot through the air like bolts of wrath. A booming flash erupted from both ends. They crossed paths midair. The undead almost smiled—certain of Damon's death. But Damon didn't flinch. The moment before impact, he activated the enchantment of the Pale Crown Armor—his body turning to mist. The arrow passed through harmlessly, slamming into the rooftop behind him, collapsing the old building on its side. The undead marksman had no such trick. The black rune-tipped arrow shattered its skull. It collapsed. A chime echoed in his mind. [You have slain: Undead Marksman] His shadow devoured the corpse where it had been hidden. [You have gained 10 attribute points] [Mastery – Sniper Lv. 1] [Mastery - Runecraft Lv1] The building crumbled. The undead on the ground rushed forward. Damon jumped down, landing beside Sylvia. He kicked an undead aside and deactivated the Sovereign Mantle, returning to the much lighter Ascendant Form. Undead swarmed them from every angle. "Retreat now! We need to regroup—now!" He turned, sprinting toward a narrow alleyway, hoping to bottleneck their pursuers. The others followed. Xander and Matia covered the rear, weapons flashing as they held off the horde. He looked to Sylvia. "Did you find the hunter?" She nodded, her eyes scanning the Journey Book. "Yes. It's in a… pastry shop. About two kilometers from here." Valarie giggled. The disembodied voice of the city's former resident was amused. "You kids are taking me to Zaci's Sweets? Oh, how sweet of you…" She smirked—just a pair of lips now. "Well, then. Let me show you a shortcut…"