Harry Potter: Journey to Godhood

Despite Alaric's attempt to deflect the situation, the human ranger remained unwavering, his demeanor alight with fervor.

"Lord Sandor," Nathanos persisted, his voice resolute, "you think too highly of me. 

But I must say, this is all my fault. It is my cowardice that has allowed their prejudice against humanity to persist. 

Thank you for teaching me that one should not retreat in the face of discrimination but confront it head-on. 

Even if the outcome is less than ideal, at least it proves our courage! Endless tolerance only fuels their bias. 

Now, I've come to understand—I must step up, fulfill my duty, and respond to their challenges directly. I cannot let you endure humiliation on my behalf."

Alaric, observing the human ranger's sudden burst of enthusiasm and his expression of enlightenment, silently mused to himself: 

"It seems like there's some kind of misunderstanding here."

"Well," Lor'themar Theron interjected impatiently, "have you made your decision yet? Personally, I suggest letting Nathanos compete in your place. 

At least he's a professional... though it seems your 'encouragement' has had some effect. That timid fellow looks fired up now!"

Alaric inwardly retorted, "When did I encourage him? This guy just spontaneously ignited! Even I'm surprised."

Outwardly, however, he simply declined. "No, there's no need. I'll take you on myself."

With that, Alaric approached the archery range. His movements with the bow were neither unfamiliar nor particularly adept.

Seeing this, Lor'themar grew even more confident in his victory.

"Alright, if you insist," he said.

The high elf ranger pulled three arrows from his quiver, slotting them between his fingers. To ensure precision, he cast an Eagle Eye spell on himself before addressing his companion.

"One round decides the winner. I'll go first and give you a demonstration. Halduron, you'll act as the referee."

The other ranger, Halduron Brightwing, nodded. Taking out a gnomish stopwatch, he announced, "Ready—begin!"

At the signal, Lor'themar burst into action like a hunting leopard.

He sprinted from one end of the archery range to the other, simultaneously twisting his torso to draw and fire his bow. Without any apparent effort to aim, he loosed the first arrow.

The projectile streaked through the air like a meteor, tracing a graceful arc before striking the head of the first humanoid target.

Without pausing to confirm the hit, Lor'themar nocked his second arrow and released it with equal precision, followed swiftly by the third.

The rapid succession of shots left his hand empty, prompting him to retrieve another set of arrows from his quiver as he continued to sprint.

The entire sequence, performed seamlessly in motion, was a testament to the skill and fluidity of the high elf rangers.

The range was vast, with each target hundreds of paces away. Yet Lor'themar, running and shooting in tandem, displayed a mastery Alaric had to admit was rare. Even among the best human sharpshooters he'd encountered in war, none could match Lor'themar's combination of precision, speed, and mobility.

The reputation of the high elf rangers was well-earned.

By the time Lor'themar reached the far end of the range, his quiver was empty. Halduron, who had been observing closely, stopped the timer.

Soon, Lor'themar returned, his breathing steady but his face showing signs of fatigue. The precision shooting while on the move had evidently taken its toll.

"How was that?" he asked expectantly.

"Fifteen and a half seconds. Nineteen targets eliminated, one critically injured," Halduron announced, his tone tinged with awe. "That's a second faster than your personal best. Well done, Lor'themar."

"Naturally, I'm always improving," Lor'themar said with a satisfied smile before turning to Alaric. "So, what do you think? 

Intimidated? If you can't handle this, there's still time to let Nathanos take your place. I've been wanting to teach him a lesson anyway."

He scrutinized Alaric's face, hoping to find a flicker of surprise or panic. Yet, to his disappointment, Alaric's expression remained calm, as if Lor'themar's remarkable performance was nothing extraordinary.

For his part, Alaric had already dismissed Nathanos's repeated offers to compete. This was an opportunity to impress the high elves and showcase his abilities—one he wasn't about to pass up.

"Let me show you how a mage shoots," Alaric said, stepping forward.

He began casting spells on himself, each incantation accompanied by a flash of magical light:

Master's Touch: Proficiency with weapons and armor upon contact. Preemptive Strike: Temporary enhancement to attacks. 

Guided Shot: Neutralizes inaccuracies caused by distance. Sniper's Arrow: Reduces range limitations. Eagle Eye: Improves long-range vision. 

Cat's Grace: Boosts agility. Owl's Wisdom: Enhances perception. Swift Footsteps: Increases speed. Stable Stride: Ensures steady footing on uneven terrain. Haste: Accelerates movement. Weapon Enchantment: Augments weapon power. 

Awaken Weapon: Grants weapons limited autonomy. Target Detection: Identifies distant targets via magic. Heroic Resolve: Instills unshakable courage. 

Mechanical Mind: Optimizes focus for cold, calculated precision. Time Warp: Temporarily accelerates actions. 

Luck Surge: Based on Felix Felicis, this spell improves favorable outcomes. Stormbringer's Blessing: Enhances resistance to storm conditions. Weather Manipulation: Alters local weather.

In mere minutes, Alaric had cast an array of enhancement spells, leaving the watching rangers wide-eyed in astonishment.

"What... what is this?"

"This is ridiculous!"

"Is he trying to use magic to transform into an archer?"

"How can we even compete against that?"

Though they lacked deep magical expertise, the high elf rangers were familiar enough with magic to recognize the utility of Alaric's buffs.

Many of these spells were ones they had benefited from during wartime, though typically only one or two at a time—not an overwhelming barrage like this.

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