The Return of the Genius Ranker’s Myth Warehouse - Chapter 76

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 76
Chapter 76
Here.
The player who would face Mir in the Round of 32.
Schute tensed as he recalled all his training up to this point.
‘I can do this.’
How much had he trained to bring Mir down?
He’d obsessively studied how to evade arrows fired by the level 350 Archer senior, how to avoid her aim and close the distance.
He’d even prepared his equipment accordingly.
Gear that increased movement speed and boosted evasion rate.
At first, he’d considered wearing sturdy armor or wielding a shield to block attacks and push forward.
‘A colossal longbow? How am I supposed to block that!’
The weapon Mir had displayed in the Round of 64.
The forearm-thick arrows shot from that colossal longbow were attacks far beyond what could be defended against.
Blocking them would require a proper iron shield, but that equipment didn’t match Schute’s level.
“The Round of 64 has concluded! Now, the next match is! None other than!”
“Once again, Mir will kick off the Round of 32!”
Finally, it was Schute’s turn.
As he stepped onto the Tournament Arena, Mir appeared without being late this time, already on the field.
Seeing Mir emerge with the longbow, the memory of that final attack from the Pyramid flooded back, and his body instinctively shrank.
He also remembered how Mir’s first opponent in the Round of 64 had been pierced by that arrow and fell in a single blow.
But.
‘I’m different.’
Schute believed he could do it.
And so.
“Match, begin!”
The match started.
Twang—!
Mir released the bowstring.
The arrow flew.
Schute stared directly at the arrow.
‘This way!’
He threw himself out of the way.
The arrow twisted sharply and its trajectory changed, but from his training with the level 350 Archer senior, Schute could even detect that.
Still, because the arrow was so fast, he felt it graze past his ear with a narrow miss.
The eerie sound the arrow made as it passed sent chills down his spine.
‘I dodged it!’
Schute exulted.
He’d successfully evaded Mir’s attack.
Naturally, a weapon as large as a colossal longbow takes considerable time to prepare for the next shot.
The Archer drew out a massive arrow, nocking it onto the bowstring, and it took considerable time to pull back the taut string of such an oversized longbow.
Through the same training regimen, Schute was confident he could close the distance to Mir during that interval and puncture his vital points.
With that confidence, he fixed his gaze upon Mir.
“…What?”
What entered Schute’s vision was the longbow collapsing to the ground.
That’s right.
The moment Mir fired the first shot from the longbow, he released it from his grip entirely.
Then what was Mir holding now?
As Schute’s eyes shifted from the falling longbow toward Mir, what came into view was a crossbow already in Mir’s hands.
Twang!
The instant the crossbow’s trigger was pulled.
Thunk!
“Gack!”
Schute, caught completely off-guard by this unforeseen attack, had no time to respond before an arrow lodged itself in his skull.
* * *
As planned, I maintained the Archer concept even in the tournament.
It wasn’t mere stubbornness or pride.
Just before the match, Red Skull had attacked me, bewildered by how effectively an archer could fight, and I subdued him without difficulty—didn’t I?
With Red Skull as a starting point, I had no way of knowing what challenges lay ahead.
No matter how I considered it, concealing my true strength seemed the wisest course.
“Cough!”
Even fighting as a ranged attacker, ascending the tournament proved effortless.
My first opponent in the Round of 64 couldn’t evade my direct longbow assault and had his head pierced clean through.
My second opponent managed to dodge the longbow attack somehow.
Thunk!
“Gack!”
But the follow-up crossbow bolt found its mark.
Watching my opponent collapse from the crossbow strike, I felt more frustration than satisfaction.
‘Isn’t it basic strategy to swap weapons during cooldown periods when using high-cooldown arms? They didn’t even notice this?’
I thought my opponent would have predicted my immediate switch to the crossbow.
Yet their reaction suggested they hadn’t anticipated it at all.
Could they have actually believed I was drawing the longbow again?
That’s absurd—no one’s that foolish.
But the Round of 16 proved no different.
Whoosh—.
“Haha, I dodged it!”
Clang!
“The crossbow is convenient to use but takes forever to reload! So now you’ll….”
[ Downpour Short Bow ]
Fwip-fwip-fwip!
“Cough! How cowardly…!”
I’ll give him credit for dodging both the longbow and crossbow attacks.
But he clearly didn’t anticipate that I’d immediately hurl the crossbow aside and draw my short bow.
I honestly can’t fathom why he didn’t see that coming.
It makes no sense whatsoever.
As the Round of 16 concluded in my victory, the passionate voices of the two commentators echoed down from above.
“Mir, that was incredible!”
“Not a single hit landed on you!”
“It wasn’t just ordinary bows and sniper rifles! You’ve transcended standard bows and anti-materiel rifles—wielding colossal longbows, crossbows, and even rapid-fire short bows!”
“Magnificent! A true master of ranged weapons! There’s no ranged weapon you cannot use!”
“And here’s the remarkable part! Mir! You advanced through the Round of 16 without taking a single step from your starting position!”
“Absolutely astounding! Not moving an inch through the Round of 16! This is the true power of Mir!”
“Indeed, will anyone even be able to defeat Mir? Or will there be a player capable of forcing Mir to move at all?”
That’s right.
I hadn’t moved a single step throughout the entire match.
Normally, in such a confined arena, an archer would need to constantly retreat to maintain distance from opponents.
‘Though I didn’t intend for this.’
I wasn’t doing this to garner applause or mock my opponent.
Simply put, there was no need to move.
When my opponent couldn’t even close half the distance before collapsing, why would I need to move at all?
“An intense Round of 16 match is underway!”
“Oh, Deblet is quite impressive! Launching such brilliant attacks!”
After my match ended, naturally, another Round of 16 bout was taking place.
“Why does this feel so tedious?”
“It’s the Beginner League, so it can’t be helped. Everyone still lacks skills and experience.”
“But Mir is different, isn’t he?”
“He’s on a completely different level.”
Let’s just get this over with and show Mir’s match!”
“But when Mir’s turn comes, it’s a three-second victory anyway, so the dopamine hits before the match even ends.”
“Someone, just put up a fight!”
I hadn’t captured the audience’s interest.
It couldn’t be helped.
The Challenger League was filled with players executing dazzling battles, with skills and magic exploding everywhere.
In contrast, the Beginner League matches simply weren’t as spectacular.
“Now, it’s already the Quarterfinals!”
“Not much left until the finals!”
“Yes, that’s right! And as always, the first Quarterfinal match is! Mir!”
It was my turn again.
Thinking that my opponent’s level should have improved considerably by the Quarterfinals, I stepped into the arena.
“Hehehehe.”
A Sage dressed entirely in black robes, hat, and staff walked up onto the Tournament Arena.
With a skull embedded in the staff, it was unmistakably clear—without even needing to analyze—that he was a necromancer or dark mage.
“Mir. Your skills seemed decent enough, but you’ve met the wrong opponent.”
The moment he stepped onto the Tournament Arena, my opponent began to provoke me.
“I’m sorry to say, but this match is mine. You can never defeat me.”
He was even confident in his own victory.
Naturally, his words were being broadcast vividly on screen.
“Deskel! What tremendous confidence!”
“It seems he’s come fully prepared! Could there actually be something here!”
“Is this finally the crisis that Mir will face!”
The spectators, including the two commentators, were thrilled.
Honestly, hearing such talk didn’t fill me with any real sense of danger, but still, with him showing such confidence, I drew my longbow in anticipation of an entertaining match.
I pulled the bowstring back taut.
“Match, begin!”
The instant the match started.
“Summon Zombie.”
My opponent pulled out something grotesque—a lump of flesh.
The moment he chanted the spell, the flesh swelled and transformed into a zombie.
Far larger and thicker than an ordinary zombie, the creature hadn’t even fully formed its body when—
Thunk!
My arrow pierced straight through it.
The zombie couldn’t complete its form and froze in place, but my arrow was properly blocked.
I could have drawn a crossbow and shot the fallen zombie down, but instead, I didn’t release the bowstring of the short bow I’d drawn next.
“Ghost Veil.”
Whoosh—
My opponent, who had been hiding behind the fallen zombie, cast the spell he’d been preparing.
Apparently, the zombie was merely a meat shield.
A meat shield to buy time for casting Ghost Veil.
“Kekeke, did you see? This is magic only I can use, having contracted with a level 250 Grand Specter. Its effect is… complete immunity to physical attacks!”
My opponent’s eyes gleamed with absolute confidence.
Ghost Veil.
I was quite familiar with it, having faced dark mages, necromancers, and liches at First who often used this skill.
Just as my opponent said, physical attacks were completely ineffective, and without preparation, it was indeed a troublesome skill.
However.
‘Is that all?’
I found it utterly ridiculous.
While Ghost Veil could nullify physical attacks, it made one far more vulnerable to magical attacks.
So if I simply threw the Fireball I’m currently learning, it would definitely burst in one hit.
Of course, right now I’m maintaining the concept of a ranged attacker who uses guns and bows, so using magic is a bit awkward.
“Sigh… Luke, pull out a Saint Arrow for me.”
– Yes, Master.
That said, I wasn’t without means to attack my opponent.
I nocked a pristine white arrow that materialized alongside the black flames onto my bowstring.
Then.
“Krkrkr, you haven’t given up? Good, fire away! Let me show you the taste of despair.”
My opponent spread both arms wide, their form rendered translucent beneath Ghost Veil.
I released the arrow directly toward the center of their chest.
Whoosh!
Light streamed from the arrow, tracing a pristine white trajectory as it surged forward.
At a glance, this was no ordinary arrow.
My opponent, apparently unaware of such an arrow’s existence, radiated confidence even as they saw it coming, but this arrow—
[ Saint Arrow ]
( Non-Tradeable )
Type : Arrow
Grade : Heroic
Restriction : Level 150+, Bow Mastery Lv 15+
Description : A sacred arrow of light, crafted by soaking the arrowhead in holy water from a temple devoted to Saith, the God of Light, for one month, imbuing it with the power of radiance.
Saint Arrow.
An arrow infused with the holy attribute itself.
While expensive, using this allowed me to inflict holy attribute damage without relying on special skills or magic.
As proof, the arrow I fired didn’t merely pierce through my opponent—
Thud!
“Gaaaahhh!”
It lodged perfectly in the center of their chest.
Then, radiating light and holy power, it dealt catastrophic damage to my opponent shrouded in Ghost Veil.
While using Ghost Veil, elemental defense drops significantly, and with holy attribute—the very opposite of what they needed—driving through—
“How… how is this possible…?”
My opponent, a mage-class fighter with naturally low vitality, had no chance of enduring this.
“As expected of Mir! Once again! Without taking a single step! Deskel falls!”
“Mir! Mir! Mir!”
The entire Tournament Arena erupted in fervent cheers.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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