I am the Arcane Archer, and all my skills are self-created.

"Then... what should we do?" Bull scratched his head. He was straightforward and said whatever came to mind. "How about I stay? I have the worst equipment."

"No way!" Mad Blade immediately retorted, "If you stay, we'll be missing a powerful damage dealer, making the fight even more difficult."

"Then I might as well stay," the new warrior, Anchor, said in a low voice. "I'm the lowest level and have the least experience."

"Your level isn't the lowest; Star is," Immovable Mountain corrected from the side, his tone calm, but the words were like a knife.

Xingchen's face immediately turned red.

Yes, he was the last one to reach level 35. Although it was only a few hours later, the last one is still the last.

"I...I can stay," Xingchen said softly, his voice trembling slightly. He didn't want to, but he felt he should be the one eliminated.

"You're staying? Our team only has two priests, and you're going to let Qixian Liuliu heal the whole raid by herself? Do you want her to die from overwork?" Steel Shield glared at him.

Qixian Liuli quickly waved her hand: "No, no, no, I might really not be able to manage alone. The healing pressure in Zul'Farrak must be immense."

She was telling the truth. Ten people, one treatment—that's a joke.

This won't work, that won't work.

For a moment, everyone fell silent.

Everyone knew in their hearts that no one was superfluous. After five days of getting to know each other, the positions of each member of this ten-person team had been fixed.

Two top-tier tanks, Steel Shield and Immovable Mountain, one main and one secondary, as stable as Mount Tai.

The two core healers, Seven Strings Glazed Glass and Starry Sky, one the main healer and the other the secondary healer, ensured the team's sustainability.

Inkmark's mage is the core of the team's control.

The archer who chases the wind is the guarantee of ranged physical damage output.

Mad Blade and Wild Bull are the sharp blades for close-range burst damage.

Hua Zitong is an all-around deputy commander and backup damage dealer.

Li Wu... Li Wu is a god.

The team's fighting power will be reduced if any one member is missing.

"How about... you decide, President?" Finally, the unmoving man spoke up, looking at Li Wu, "Whoever you say stays, stays. We'll all listen to you."

All eyes immediately focused on Li Wu.

Yes, he is the president, the absolute core of this team. His decision is the final decision.

Li Wu looked around.

He saw the stoic honesty of the bull, the sharpness of the mad knife, the hesitation of the anchor, the tension of the stars, the worry of the seven strings, the calmness of the ink marks, the silence of the wind chaser, the steadiness of the immovable mountain, and the expectation hidden beneath the carefree exterior of the steel shield.

Finally, his gaze fell on Hua Zitong.

Hua Zitong simply looked at him quietly without saying a word, but the meaning in her eyes was clear: This is a decision you have to make.

Li Wu withdrew his gaze, already having made up his mind.

He cannot designate any one person.

Because no matter who he chooses, it will leave a thorn in that person's heart and plant a seed of injustice in the hearts of others.

This team is newly formed, and morale is the most important thing.

He must resolve this issue in the fairest, and also the most ruthless, way.

"I'm not sure," Li Wu said, her voice soft but clear.

Everyone was taken aback.

Undecided? What to do then?

"Draw lots," Li Wu uttered.

Drawing lots?

Everyone was stunned.

They considered many possibilities, but never this most primitive and fate-dependent approach.

"This...this is too..." Steel Shield wanted to say "This is too childish," but he swallowed the words back.

Because he found that this seemed to be the best way.

Who stays is not decided by the chairman, nor by everyone's discussion; it is decided by God.

If you win, you accept it. If you don't, you're glad.

No one can blame anyone else.

"Fairness," Li Wu added. "No one should think they're special, and no one should think they're not qualified. Whoever is drawn is who they are."

Lin Hai wasn't there, otherwise he would definitely have done this job. Li Wu looked around and picked up eleven dry grass twigs of varying lengths from the ground.

He held the grass twig in his palm, leaving only the roughly equal-length end showing.

"I made the shortest one," Li Wu said, looking at everyone. "Whoever draws it keeps it."

The atmosphere suddenly became heavy.

Everyone's breathing became lighter.

"Who wants to go first?" Li Wu asked.

Nobody moved.

"I'll go!" Steel Shield gritted his teeth and was the first to step forward. He strode up to Li Wu, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and casually lit a cigarette.

He took it in his hand, glanced at it, and seeing how long it was, immediately breathed a sigh of relief and grinned: "Hehe, a great start!"

Once the first one was chosen, those who followed no longer hesitated.

The second one, as immovable as a mountain, went up and smoked a long one.

The third ink mark is long.

The fourth one is the longest.

Mad Blade, Wild Bull, Seven-Stringed Liuliu, Starry Sky...

One by one they stepped forward, and one by one they passed through safely.

The grass twigs in his palm were dwindling, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Now, only three people have left to smoke.

Hua Zitong, Tie Mao, and Li Wu himself.

No, Li Wu was the organizer, so he doesn't count.

That's Hua Zitong and Tie Mao.

pick one of two.

Fine beads of sweat had appeared on Iron Anchor's forehead. He clenched his fists tightly and pressed his lips into a thin line.

Hua Zitong's expression didn't change much; she still maintained that aloof demeanor.

"Vice President, please go first," Iron Anchor said in a muffled voice.

Hua Zitong glanced at him, and without any hesitation, reached out and took a cigarette from Li Wu's hand.

She took it out, didn't even look at it, and displayed it directly in front of everyone.

Long.

Everyone's heart was in their throat.

Now, there's no need to smoke anymore.

The results are in.

In Li Wu's palm, only the last one remained, which was also the shortest.

All eyes turned to the soldier who had been silent since joining the team, working hard to train and keep up with everyone else.

Anchor.

Iron Anchor's face turned pale instantly.

He had considered the possibility of being selected, after all, luck is unpredictable.

But he didn't expect that when the result was actually presented to him, the sense of loss would be so intense, overwhelming him like a tidal wave.

He lowered his head, looking at the yellow sand beneath his feet, unable to utter a single word.

He didn't want to complain; drawing lots was the fairest way.

He didn't want to play the victim; they were all friends who had risked their lives for each other, and no one would look down on him.

He was just... unwilling to accept it.

Five days, a full five days of arduous training.

From level 34 to level 35, he put in just as much effort as anyone else. To keep up with the team's pace, he only slept four hours a night. While others rested, he quietly practiced blocking and positioning on the sidelines.

He dreamed of fighting Zul'Farrak, of getting the first clear, and of having his name etched on the honor roll of the 21st district alongside the "Myth" guild.

But now, everything has vanished.