Chapter 9: The Bow Arrives

“Ah—”
At dusk on the western border, a piercing scream shattered the forest’s tranquility.
“Enemy attack! Enemy attack!”
Immediately, another agonized cry was abruptly cut off. A barbarian scout clutched his neck with both hands and fell from his horse, an arrow piercing his throat.
The official road cutting through the woods was swiftly becoming a death trap for the barbarians.
“Be alert! Get ready!” the Xiongnu cavalry commander shouted.
“Yiya—”
Another rider tumbled from his horse, this time an arrow striking his eye socket.
“Han soldiers! It’s the Han soldiers! We’re saved—”
A young boy, bound and among the crowd, cried out excitedly, only to be kicked down by the barbarian soldiers escorting him.
“Anyone who acts rashly will die!”
Whizz—another arrow flew from the shadows.
Moments ago, the barbarian soldier had been swaggering and oppressive; now, an arrow pierced through his forehead, and he slowly fell, still clutching his raised blade.
“(Xiongnu curse), there are no Han soldiers—just a hunter. Men, charge with me!”
Though losing four men in a brief moment shook the cavalry commander, his seasoned judgment discerned the enemy’s true nature.
If it were truly a Han ambush, would they shoot arrow after arrow so deliberately?
Hmph, to dare show off before such horse-riding heroes as themselves—when he caught that fellow, he’d make him pay dearly.
The Xiongnu cavalry commander howled and led ten men charging into the forest.
And then... there was no ‘then.’
Before the arrow that pierced his eye socket could claim his last breath, he couldn’t comprehend how, riding swiftly through the woods, someone could be so accurate.
Yet, on his deathbed, he found some solace—not dying by Han hands, but by a rider clad like himself, lurking in the swaying shadows.
Why he was attacked by his own kin, he never had the chance to ponder.
“(Xiongnu curse), sharpshooter?! What are you doing? We’re on the same side!”
In the brief chaos after the leader’s fall, the barbarian riders spotted the assassin’s figure, but their questions went unanswered.
The arrows kept flying relentlessly.
One rider fell, then another.
Each shot maintained the exact same rhythm, every bowstring plucked like a deadly chord, playing the music of death.
“There’s only one of him—everyone, charge together!”
The rider holding a spear trembled as he shouted.

His judgment was sound. Skilled on the plains and expert in hunting, the comrades moved with tacit understanding even without orders, instinctively encircling the foe.
At their horses’ speed, the sharpshooter could only fire one more arrow at most.
Once they closed in, one man’s fists couldn’t withstand four opponents.
He wasn’t afraid the traitor would escape; the encircling allies had cut off all retreat routes.
Though losses were heavy, victory was within reach!
After firing his last arrow, Su Yao tossed aside his bow, shouted loudly, drew his twin blades, and charged ahead on horseback.
“Come, let’s fight!”
The three riders passed each other in a deadly dance, blood splattering.
Strange tongues wafted through the air, neither barbarian nor Han dialect.
“Huh? Why am I flying?”
The barbarian rider watched the earth grow distant, shocked to find he couldn’t even cover his mouth with his hands…
That voice... could it be the very voice of death?
Unaware of the faint artistry in his victims’ final moments, Su Yao swiftly slew two more riders in the blink of an eye.
“Kill them all!”
The reinforcements encircling them glared with bloodshot eyes, helpless as the ten men led by their commander were annihilated. Fury surged, hot blood rushed to their heads, and under rage’s command, they turned sharply to charge Su Yao.
Leading the charge, three riders rode shoulder to shoulder, their horses neck and neck, spears bristling to deny any chance of close combat.
“Bows ready!”
A loud shout preceded a mounted bow descending from above. Su Yao grasped it, drew an arrow from his quiver, and loosed it.
“Under the fierce bow, not a single piece of armor remains intact!”
Whizz, whizz, whizz—
The three riders seemed to hit an invisible wall, each jolting before tumbling from their horses.
“What?!”
“A volley shot! It’s a volley shot!” those with insight immediately recognized.
It was indeed three arrows fired in rapid succession, and as Su Yao claimed, all pierced through heart and armor alike!
“Scatter, quickly!”
But it was too late.
Another volley cut down the next line of riders.
“We can’t win, it’s hopeless!”
“Run, run—”
The morale of the barbarian cavalry collapsed instantly, and they fled in disarray.
In their panic, some riders abruptly halted their horses, causing both to fall.
“Such idiotic AI.”
After dispatching the incoming foes with a single arrow, Su Yao pressed the advantage—these men fled far too swiftly.
“My experience points!”
Maybe next time he should take it easy—winning too fast left no chance for full glory.
Thus, an absurd scene unfolded in the forest: dozens of riders chased in wild flight by a single knight.
Only after Su Yao and the barbarians vanished beyond the horizon did Wang Ling, perched in the trees, snap out of his stupor and curse loudly.
“What on earth is going on? Is this even human?”
He knew his benefactor was a master of martial arts, but this was beyond belief...
It was as if a god had descended to earth.
Uh, now, what do I do?
Wang Ling’s face was a mess of confusion.

...

Dusk bathed in blood-red hues.
While the rescued Han sons and daughters in the forest embraced in tears of joy and excitement, on the nearby hills, fully armed Han soldiers lay in ambush among the fields and woods.
“Fengxian, are we sure of our position?”
Zhang Yang asked the obvious. This was the main route westward from Wang family village and surrounding hamlets.
If the barbarians were to retreat after looting, this would be their fastest and shortest path.
The barbarians, now flush with victory and pride, had no reason to abandon the main road in favor of winding side paths.
Yet, after nearly an entire afternoon of waiting, they had caught no sign—not even a hair. Zhang Yang couldn’t help but wonder.
“Could it be that Wang family fortress is too strong, and the barbarians were delayed?” Lü Bu also suspected.
“That would be fortunate. Barbarians only loot—they never siege fortresses. But the fortress wall at Wang village was partially damaged by a strong wind during the heavy rain two days ago. I fear the barbarians won’t spare it.”
Zhang Yang shook his head helplessly. This had been reported by villagers who came to support the army during their camp here a few days prior. Repairs were underway, but the outcome remained uncertain. They had specially instructed the soldiers to be vigilant.
He had considered attacking Wang village directly, but—
Glancing at the soldiers hidden among the trees, many bore deep fear on their faces despite a few elite troops.
These survivors, just barely escaping disaster, could only manage ambushes from the hills and woods. Pressing them further risked collapse or mutiny.
“Let’s hope nothing goes wrong...”
Just then—
“Report—
Scattered barbarian riders spotted ahead, about a dozen, speeding this way!”
“Here they come?!”
Zhang Yang and Lü Bu immediately snapped to attention.