One Archer Novels & Stories

she whispered. For a brief moment, the decade of rivalry and bitterness faded. They were just two architects standing in the dust, breathing in the smell of old stone and infinite possibilities. But then, Elias’s phone chirped—a sharp, digital intrusion—and the professional mask was back in place instantly. "Draft the preservation proposal for the archway," he said, already turning back to his tablet. "If you can prove to me it’s structurally sound by Friday morning, I’ll find a way to keep it. If not, the wrecking ball comes in on Monday. No exceptions."

I ended up crashing into the door and collapsing into the door's arms. Um… Wait, the door had arms? Oh. I wasn't lying against the door. I was lying against a row of abs… "Thomas Jenkins, you're dead meat." I heard Pierce's voice. Thomas' shriek rang out after that. "Piercy, what are you doing here? Wait, why are you holding that bastard?" I heard Pierce chuckling softly in return. "You really should find out who exactly the so-called bastard is." His voice was extremely glacial at that point. Suddenly, I found myself wondering if his lips were equally cold, too.

Let me help you, so we can go back to the cottage. Aurora looked at him. “Fine by me.” “Good.” Archer said. “I have a bow and arrow. Can you point me where I can find some larger animals? Deer, perhaps, or a wild hog?” “Are you any good at bow and arrows?” The prince chuckled. “It is what I am named for, after all.” The lady arched an eyebrow. “Theobald?”

Archer's mind linked them to hang around until they were sure that the hunter had nothing weird up his sleeve. Archer stepped down from the cart and continued his elegant walk into the restaurant. Some humans were looking at him strangely. He knew that dressing so traditionally was strange in this area, but he didn’t care. He would wear what he would. Inside the restaurant, he caught a glimpse of grey hair. It was Marcus Bane. He wasn’t too old, but still, he liked the grey to the moon. Archer walked calmly towards him. “Hello,” he said calmly. The man, who for the first time Archer noticed was surrounded by so many guards turned his attention on him, as he kept his phone by the side.

“We need every hand ready. There is no room for hesitation when we march.” He bowed. “Understood.” I turned and walked across the yard, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath my boots. To one side, a group of archers stood in a loose line, each holding a shortbow. Their arms moved with practiced precision, drawing arrows and letting them fly into distant targets planted in the wall beyond. I recognized their Westwind wood arrows, they carried a faint golden glint, designed to blind the eye in bright daylight. “Captain Trell,” I said to the archer commander, young but hungry for victory. He stood ramrod straight, fletching arrows with care. “Your bowmen, how many can shoot true at a hundred pac

Alkhun felt the presence of the big-old guy at the side of him. "Rogh." Alkhun looked at him who put the tray of food on the side table. "Cyan was the greatest archer in Arzona capital." "The best?" Alkhun wasn't really shocked but that is still something else. The Arzona capital was known to produce the best archers on the continent. They're the most skilled archers, with high arching attributes that were gained by rigorous training provided by the continent. The Arzona Capital had produced 5 King Rank Archers.

Archer didn't even tangle there hands like they always did . Archer was already pissed on his men who failed to look after his work . He had given them one job . To find the owner of a drug dealing company and kill him but they didn't. Those fuckers took bribe and let him go . Of course Archer beat them to death but he was now beastly since he received a called from his guard telling him the Arabelle was stalked by a Kid .

"Archers, don't waste arrows. Get into shooting positions and shoot only when instructed!" The archers replied in a single sentence: "Understood."

Though this archer was significantly weaker than the golden-patterned serpent king, he was still at the martial god level, an elite tier of martial prowess. "You've got guts. I'll give you that." The archer sneered, pulling an arrow from his quiver and nocking it onto his bowstring. He aimed straight at Chase. "Since you're so confident, let's see whose shot is faster—yours or mine!" The bowstring snapped forward. A sharp, explosive whistle tore through the air, echoing like thunder. A silver meteor-like arrow streaked across the sky in a perfect arc, blazing toward Chase. The attack trajectory left no room to dodge, but Chase's reaction was lightning-fast. The very moment the archer made th

Archer stepped back from the body on the sand, lowering his sword. He looked up, straight at the King, and the stands went silent as he slowly removed his helmet. Dark hair lifted in the dust and breeze, blue eyes locking on the Alpha King’s stunned face. The gasp was universal. “I’m Archer Whitlock, former Alpha General, and I’m here... to reclaim my rank!!!”