At the Wolf's Den camp's archery range, the Longbow Instructor was teaching Gendry how to shoot arrows.
The target was made of hay and straw, with the bullseye fifty yards away from the person.
"Just call me Dick, lad!" an Old Man in a green robe with white hair said to Gendry, looking at him with great appreciation.
"It's been a long time since the Wolf Pack Company has seen any new recruits; I even doubted I'd ever take on an apprentice again.
The Wolf Pack Company prefers Westerosi, and with too many rules, the Wolf Pack has always remained small."
"Alright!" Gendry took the longbow, a tall yew greatbow.
Gendry was a bit curious, not expecting the archery Instructor to be the expert Black Billy from the Summer Isles, but another Old Man.
"Good lad, I've never seen such a fine natural physique, but you must know, good steel also needs forging!" Dick said, implying that warriors should all be blocky, with broad chests and full muscles.
"Many people overly emphasize swordsmanship and neglect archery, which is outdated!
In many situations, whether it's a longbow, a greatsword, or a Morningstar, use whatever you have on hand, use whatever works best!
Don't overthink it, just quickly seize a position and attack."
Gendry put on his glove and stroked the longbow; a bow and arrow are dangerous things.
If used with bare hands, the bowstring could easily injure fingers or fingernails.
"Excellent, now!" Gendry nocked an arrow, drew the bow, and aimed at the target in front.
Gendry's composure was as steady as a rock; he caught the breath of the wind, and a beautiful arrow flew, but it was slightly off-center from the bullseye.
"Not bad, lad!" Dick followed Gendry, drawing his bow smoothly like summer silk, then shot, hitting the bullseye dead center.
"How was that?" Dick asked, stepping back.
"Amazing!" Gendry applauded, the Old Man's archery skills were truly eye-opening.
"The wind, pay attention to the wind's direction, Child.
You have good eyes and steady hands, I rarely see such a promising talent as you.
But the battlefield is chaotic, you must quickly perceive the wind direction.
Hitting the target isn't the real skill; being fast and accurate is what makes a master!"
"Now, shoot a few more arrows, don't push yourself, stop before you injure your muscles, let me see how much strength you have!" Dick looked at Gendry expectantly.
Gendry then wielded the longbow and shot several times consecutively, his breathing steady, his posture unmoving.
Although Gendry didn't hit the bullseye directly, his arrows landed on the target, and Dick's eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"Alright, Child, you don't need to shoot any more arrows!" Dick said happily.
"I've truly met a genius, a born warrior.
Your stamina is better, your endurance stronger; in battle, you can shoot several more rounds than others!"
"You need a good bow, Child!
A good archer cannot lack a good bow, that is our fate!" Dick declared.
"The best bows are the dragonglass bow and the goldheart wood greatbow from the Summer Isles, but unfortunately, both are priceless.
Slightly inferior are those made of yew, weirwood, or common animal bone; I must get you a good bow."
Dick also taught Gendry shooting postures to avoid muscle injury.
For such a natural warrior, Dick held nothing back.
After practicing for a while, Dick let Gendry rest on the benches next to the archery range.
"I heard you're from Westeros?" Dick asked.
"More specifically."
"Yes, King's Landing, are you too?" Gendry was a bit curious.
"That's right, I also fled from Westeros to here!
Have you heard of the Brotherhood Without Banners?"
"I have!" Gendry was somewhat pleased.
"They are a bunch of lawless bandits, their stories are still told in King's Landing!"
Gendry had also heard songs about the Brotherhood; in the taverns of King's Landing, he once heard a wandering Singer sing:
"Oh, the wandering Brotherhood Without Banners, they say we are thieves.
We make the forest our castle, and the earth and seas our home.
No gold escapes our blades and spears, no maiden escapes our grasp.
Oh, the wandering Brotherhood Without Banners, who doesn't fear them..."
"The Smiling Knight, Big Belly Ben, Wenda the White Fawn, and Long-Osric, who couldn't be hanged thrice!" Dick rattled them off as if counting his treasures.
Gendry thought for a moment; there seemed to be a Dick in the Brotherhood Without Banners as well.
Gendry looked at the Old Man, he had originally thought it was just a shared name.
"Are you that Dick from the Brotherhood Without Banners?"
Gendry looked at him with reverence; this truly was an Archery God.
Dick the Fletch was born in a village near Stonyhelm.
He had taught Ulf how to use a bow and arrow and was revered by some as the greatest archer of all time.
"Yes!" Dick nodded, unconcerned.
"I was once a member of the Brotherhood, a formidable bandit.
Now, I'm just an Instructor making a living Across the Narrow Sea!
Except for Ulf, most of my companions are probably dead."
The Targaryen Dynasty had fallen; he could have returned to Westeros, but most of his companions had died, and even the leaders who hunted bandits, The White Bull and the Sword of the Morning, were mostly dead.
Going back would only be a place of sorrow.
"Back then, wasn't the Brotherhood Without Banners completely wiped out by the Sword of the Morning?" Gendry asked curiously.
"Indeed, there was an important battle in The Kingswood, where Jaime Lannister, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and Barristan Selmy, Barristan the Bold, encountered some of my most famous brothers, including the Smiling Knight and their leader, Simon Toyne.
Barristan killed Simon Toyne, and Arthur Dayne killed the Smiling Knight.
Later, Wenda the White Fawn, Long-Osric, who couldn't be hanged thrice, and 'Big Belly' Ben were also captured during the breakout, but I was not among them; at the time, I was in the Stormlands searching for precious wood to make longbows for them.
When I learned of the Smiling Knight's death, I fled Across the Narrow Sea," the Arrow Maker mused; that was over a decade ago!
The people in Dick's story had become a thing of the past.
"The Smiling Knight? And the Sword of the Morning!" Gendry was very interested in these two; they were legends.
"The Smiling Knight had the stature of an ordinary man, but twice the madness.
Despite his madness, he was still a master swordsman.
As for the Sword of the Morning, I still can't imagine him dying inexplicably in the wilds of Dorne; he was the strongest of our generation!" Dick recalled.
"Are there any promising young talents in Westeros recently?"
"The Knight of Flowers!" Gendry thought for a moment; he really hadn't heard of many rising stars, it was still Barristan the Bold, Jaime of House Lannister, Bronze Yohn, and that group.
"What's so special about them! As long as you're willing to accept the Wolf's Den's teachings, they'll all be your defeated foes!" Dick said disdainfully.
"I've seen plenty of pompous young lords.
The Smiling Knight once killed a Rose."
"Alright, Old Man, are you telling the young man about your past again?" The Handsome Man walked over and saw Gendry and Dick on the bench.
The Handsome Man seemed to know about Dick's nostalgic habits and exposed him directly.
"Come on, brat, the Company Commander has assigned us a new mission!"
After Gendry said goodbye to Dick, he left.
These days, he had undergone a series of training with the Wolf Pack Company—archery, swordsmanship, and horsemanship.
Now, it seemed it was time to go to battle.