Supreme Archer: Taking The Game's Weakest Class To The Top

A heavy silence blanketed the forest part of the mountain spire.

People in the arena and even those in The Spirit Observer halted their excitement.

Out of nowhere, Jake abruptly disarmed Hans by cutting off his dominant hand!

Though it may have seemed like an instant break in their exciting duel, this unexpected move had snatched the hearts of Jake's fans. Those who were so clueless about the swordsmanship and battles swallowed up their shock and screamed out of their lungs to cheer on Jake.

The rest remained quiet and serious.

Jake looked into Hans' eyes.

The man was distraught.

It wasn't just Jake who had been learning a lot.

Fighting him had helped Hans see a different kind of swordsmanship and receive a new kind of experience, to say nothing of it being so fun and challenging. He couldn't have thought of anything else but victory at the time, but now that he had lost this privilege, he felt sorrowful.

It was such a huge loss.

Hans faintly smiled. "I didn't want to apologize to anyone because what we did was not against the rules. We maximized our chances of attending the international tournament as much as possible. Cards seemed to have been on our side, but it appears that you're truly a… Joker.

"I will, therefore, only apologize to you. I'm sorry for teaming up with The Heavy Spree Team. It was fun to fight against you, but only in this forest! You're such a pest outside of it. Anyway, thank you."

Jake nodded. "I accept your apologies only because you're a strong swordsman. Next time, cross your swords with my boy SWalker and Babe Sin."

"Well, I'll visit you, I guess?" Hans replied.

That was when the rest of his team entered the forest.

Looking at his true teammate's expression, Hans could infer that the group had heard his talk with Jake.

Quento's countenance was so twisted that Hans didn't doubt himself.

Quento confirmed his thoughts.

He shouted, "What do you mean it's your loss?! Pick up your sword with your left and fight him! Help us achieve the victory! Don't be a loser!"

"Fight with my left hand? Do you think I am a reborn swordsman god or something?! I'm just a player who's better than average! Shut up! I wasn't lucky enough to get a special magic like you! Spare me your crap!" Hans retorted.

He wanted to shout aloud that he suspected Quento scheming to take down his guild mates. However, that was only his speculation, so he didn't want to slander without evidence.

"You're still useful without a weapon! Shut up and come to us!" Quento shouted. So long as Hans could move, he was still useful.

He could also use his perception skills to mark Jake's arrows and help others take care of them! There were so many uses for him that he didn't want to let him go!

Hans scoffed… "First, you tell me to fight with my left. Now, I am suddenly useful to you? And then you will get a free ticket to the international tournament?"

Quento and his friends swallowed their saliva.

It'd be a lie if they were to say that this thought hadn't crossed their minds. Hans was disarmed and no longer could fight. The Golden Lotus' mages were at disadvantage because of Quento's presence, so it was really only Hans and the tank!

If Jake died, they would be only a step short of the international tournament.

Quent was the first one to think like that.

He wanted that to happen so badly!

But he couldn't let Hans die like a dog… yet.

"Come—"

"Shut up!" Hans shouted back. "Go beat your schlong with a left hand first before telling me to fight with my left! If you did that, you'd never tell me to fight with a non-dominant hand! Secondly, I'd rather send a Joker to the international tournament than you! Especially you!"

The tank and three mages suddenly left the group.

They went in their teammates' direction.

It was enough to tell everyone what had crossed their mind. They allied with their friend and his reasoning rather than fighting along with the group of people who would want to kill them later.

There was no hope for The Golden Lotus to go to the international, so they might as well die with a bit of honor saved!

Jake grinned. "Haha! It seems like your unfair, cheeky plan has backfired on you! I wonder who was the mastermind of it? How about you tell everyone about it? You're so caring about the audience, after all!"

Quento stood silent.

He grew pale.

Catching on that relatively quick, Jake raised his voice and shouted. "Who was it?! Who came up with such an excellent idea to win the tournament?! The idea without any flavor and excitement! No love, no passion, no affection! So dull!"

Quento screamed, spitting out a lot of saliva. "It was me! I proposed that idea! I'm taking the entire responsibility on myself! That's right! It's all on me!"

He may have sounded righteous and fair, but deep inside, Quento was seething.

He thought, 'I can kill this clown! I've evolved! I am not a mere mage! He's dead! He's for sure dead! All but me can die!

I will win, regardless of hate and public! I'll win this tournament and the international! I will swim in money!'

Meanwhile, Hans and his teammates were done talking.

They smiled at Jake.

Hans said, "We'll suicide. Good luck on the international."

They nodded.

They couldn't fake their deaths because the system announced each team's loss.

Quento and his team didn't save them from slander. They shouted various insults and speculations, calling them losers and traitors. Even Hans' mom once again caught the strays.

Jake pointed at the man who had insulted Hans's mom.

He said, "You'd better watch out your language, lovely boy."

"Shut up, you clownish saint!"

"I'm not a saint. It's just that only I can insult his mother," Jake replied.

[The Golden Lotus team has been eliminated.]

"They deserve a few whistles of my soul on their funeral, don't ya think? I could use a lot of your screams, too, to ceremony their deaths," Jake said.

Quento and his team scowled at him.