Chapter Nineteenth: Please Call Me God Archer

  Urge on the horse.

  Giddy up!

  I only regret that I exhausted myself by galloping earlier, otherwise the horse wouldn't be so weak now.

  In just a few breaths, more than 40 herders fell to the ground, and the remaining 20 or so people stumbled forward, but soon fell to the ground one after another due to exhaustion.

  There's still half a mile to go, I want to get closer, even closer!

  The horse was not a fine steed, and had already been exercised for some time that morning. It now showed signs of fatigue, its steps no longer as lithe as they were at first, but only managed to gallop forward with great effort under my constant whipping.

  Two more frail children fell forward, their small bodies unable to run another step, and could only huddle in the grass, shivering with fear.

  Behind him, the butcher's knife has already appeared.

  Someone holds a spear with both hands, raised above their head, ready to choose one of two children to eat.

  I can already see his ferocious face, scarlet tongue, and his whole body is trembling with rage.

  Two children have picked up their heads, curled up into a ball, and no longer dare to lift their heads.

  300 steps!

  My fingers were already moving impatiently and quickly dialing.

  Vertical bow.

  Up arrow.

  Draw the bowstring.

  The string is as full as the moon.

  Two fingers apart.

  The arrow is like a shooting star.

  My whole body is trembling all over, but only two arms and ten fingers are steadier than before.

  Then there was a scream, and the big man who had been laughing madly as he thrust his spear at the child fell to the ground with a thud.

  The young man was startled by the falling corpse.

  A small commotion arose in the enemy's camp.

  As prescribed by law.

  About twenty short arrows were shot out in the span of a dozen or so breaths. When my eyes locked onto one person, I no longer needed to aim, and with a raise of my hand, I would shoot. Almost every time I released an arrow, a cavalryman would fall off his horse.

  The calls echoed across the prairie in waves.

  For a moment, no one ran away.

  The horse galloped forward for two hundred paces.

  The arrows are exhausted.

  I didn't rein in the horse and stop, but instead chose to keep galloping forward.

  The number of enemies also decreased by half.

  There were only twenty of them! I muttered to myself, clenching my fists and charging towards the nearest enemy soldier.

  Although I had no more arrows, with only an empty bow in my hand, the murderous aura of having just shot twenty arrows seemed to have formed a sense of oppression. The cavalryman did not hesitate, and while urging his horse to rush towards me, he swung his sword down!

  Unadorned and unpretentious.

  My body slightly shifted to the side, my left arm swung horizontally and flipped the iron bow over, using the bow's back to hard-block the knife's slashing attack. My other hand flipped up from below and was already gripping the long knife handle.

  Counter-attack and retake.

  The enemy in front of me changed his face, exerting all his strength to fight with me, but unfortunately his arm strength was no match for mine. After exhausting his energy, he was unable to gain any advantage and was instead pulled by me to rush forward several steps.

  He didn't have much, but his war horse under him couldn't withstand it first, let out a long whinny and raised its front legs together, throwing the master on its back to the ground.

  I don't know what courtesy is, with a backhand slash, he fell to the ground in two pieces.

  Then I reined in the horse's head, held up the long knife that had just been snatched away, and coldly looked at the team of people in front of me.

  After a short while, the enemy's formation began to close in, with over ten cavalry units surrounding one person in the middle. It was so obvious that it made me laugh: not only were the soldiers from the northwest region like this, but even their generals lacked strategy and intelligence. Such soldiers and generals, if they weren't ridiculed and looked down upon by the elite troops of the central plains, would be truly unjust!

  These people probably thought I was young and approachable, but not one of them showed a hint of fear or panic on their face. This actually made me quite disheartened: I'm already a 14-year-old boy, which is considered quite old at this time, isn't it? Moreover, the northwest wind is harsh, and I should look even more weathered, but the enemy in front of me just stood still, surrounding their leader without moving.

  "The enemy general is here!" Since you didn't react, I'll just shout it out myself.

  In the midst of the enemy group, they chattered for a few sentences and finally formed an array. The young man in the center replied: "Jincheng Handong!"

  Who is Han Zhong?

  Don't know! Never heard of it!

  It's also true that in this corner, apart from the names of Han Xian and his eight generals, I've only heard a little about the other miscellaneous soldiers and small generals, and it seems to me that even the descendants of Han Xian are unheard of.

  Wait a minute...

  Han Sui's... descendants? Han Zhong?

  I had a sudden thought and blurted out: "Is Han Zhuo, that old thief, still alive?"

  Han Zhong immediately flew into a rage and shouted: "You little scoundrel! How dare you curse my father?!"

  I added another sentence: "Who is this little rascal scolding?"

  "Damn you, you little scoundrel!" Han Zhong retorted extremely quickly.

  I smiled and looked at him with a glance, waiting for some giggles, a little annoyed.

  Awkward silence.

  Calm down.

  I looked around and saw that Ma Dai and Zhao Cheng had already caught up, their faces were also very serious, they were all extremely nervous.

  Isn't it me who is actually angry?

  Damn it! I'm fed up with this godforsaken place! I hate these humorless enemies! Although this dialogue is a bit old, we can clearly see that from the two scenes where Yang Guo sarcastically scolds Huodu in "The Return of the Condor Hero" and I scold Han Zhong, due to the severe lack of material resources, the spiritual realm of ordinary people is also extremely low, which has nothing to do with IQ or whatever...

  I sighed and had no choice but to pretend I just told a cold joke.

  "Arrow!" I stretched out my right hand.

  Someone immediately untied his quiver and handed it over to me.

  I took a quick glance, and it was indeed a full pot, about twenty sticks up and down, which could almost be enough for me to annihilate the opponent. I'm afraid they might escape ahead of time. If I say this to Old Thief Han, I estimate that the war will break out immediately.

  "Ma Dai Zhao Cheng!" I whispered to the left and right, while placing the long knife horizontally in front of my legs, "You few people quickly disperse and surround the enemy, must annihilate them all, not a single one is left!"

  Ma Dai and Zhao Zong were both startled, but immediately followed the order and deployed more than a dozen cavalrymen with bows and arrows to surround the enemy in a large circle.

  "Protect General Shao!"

  Among the enemies, there were some clever ones who shouted loudly, and more than 20 cavalrymen quickly surrounded them again, tightly guarding Han Zhong's son.

  This is convenient for everyone to fight against the enemy.

  But why don't they fire back at us?

  You don't shoot, I'll shoot! There's always a man who has to shoot, I've run out of time to think about this, and shouted loudly: "Don't be polite!" First, draw the bow and shoot vigorously!

  More than ten people shot arrows one after another.

  One round shot past.

  I feel ashamed of myself.

  As expected, the level of archery was uneven, and only Ma Dai and Zhao Zong had some accuracy, while the other dozen or so people belonged to the unorthodox school of archers who shot wildly into the sky. However, since the enemy was not far away and relatively concentrated, as supporting allies for the sweeping array, they could only be said to be barely passable.

  Shoot!

  Fire again!

  A stray bullet.

  Facing the battlefield, I couldn't help but praise myself for a moment.

  It's really not me praising myself! Today, archery is surprisingly good, and the accuracy is simply explosive!

  Although it's unlikely that I got a headshot every time, conservatively speaking, there were at least 34 or 35 enemies that I took down throughout the battle. Hmm, my shooting accuracy has reached around 80%. In fact, "Bow God" should be another nickname of mine in this Three Kingdoms world.

  Ma Dai and Zhao Zong each shot down five or six men, so, uh, there's no need to count anymore, the ground is filled with corpses, and only Han Zhong is left in the arrow target.

  He just sat on his horse in a daze, already at a loss for what to do.

  "You're a dog of that old thief Han Sui!" I called him that, surely he can't have any complaints now?

  Sure, here is the translation:

  As expected, he didn't show a hint of anger.

  Just staring blankly at the ground, those corpses scattered all over.

  I casually put the bow under the saddle and both hands held up a long knife:

  "Take up your arms, then... die!"

  The horse sat down and then suddenly sprang forward and began to gallop.

  Han Zhong let out a loud roar, his right hand yanking hard on the reins as he sat down, and the warhorse leapt into the air, turning its head to flee southwest.

  "Hmm!" I squeezed my legs together on the horse's belly, and the fine horse suddenly accelerated, chasing after that guy.

  "Spare your life, you scoundrel!"

  In front of Han Zhong, on both sides, were Ma Dai and Zhao Cheng personally blocking the way. The two men loudly drew their bows, and a circle of friendly troops also opened fire to support them.

  A dozen sharp arrows flew towards Han Zhong in a scattered manner.

  The results of the battle were as follows:

  An arrow in the middle of the upper arm, the owner is Ma Dai.

  An arrow in the thigh, the owner is Zhao Cheng.

  A horse's buttocks were shot with one arrow on each side, but the archer is unknown.

  It turns out that Han Zhong's BMW was quite sturdy, with two arrows stuck in its rear end, it still ran non-stop, refusing to die.

  "Good horse!" I shouted while patting the horse, only ten or so steps away from Han Zhong, but for a moment it was still hard to catch up.

  The horse was spurred twice, its buttocks were sore, and it probably used up all the energy from drinking milk to run wildly. However, this horse of mine was suffering from hunger and cold, and no longer had the strength for long-distance running.

  Having made up my mind, I didn't say another word and with a flex of my arm, I threw the long knife with all my might.

  Although the long knife was not light, I am a rare martial arts talent - as for how I discovered this truth, I know! - After six years of hard training with the long spear, my arm strength has made some progress. With the momentum of the war horse's gallop, the long knife flew out and pierced straight into Han Zhong's back.

  Han Zhong and his men were just here to plunder, they didn't bring bows and arrows with them, nor did they wear heavy armor. I stabbed him with one knife, and blood flowed instantly from his back, and he fell off the horseback along with the knife.

  The war horse, however, paid no heed to its master and galloped away with the two arrows still stuck in its buttocks, their shafts bobbing up and down.

  All the way dripping with fresh blood.