Terrifying Archery

Just as Sun Zhongheng breathed his last, Jiang Feng heard heavy, hurried footsteps rapidly approaching the small wooden cabin.

He didn't need to guess to know that the newcomer must be the eldest brother of the two men he had just dealt with—that existence at the eighth level of the Blood-Moving Realm.

He made a split-second decision. Without a moment's hesitation, he smashed through the side window and vaulted out, sprinting toward the depths of the nearby dense forest without looking back.

In his view, trying to go head-to-head against an eighth-level expert while he was only at the sixth level of the Blood-Moving Realm was simply too much of a stretch.

His only chance of winning now was to drag out the engagement as long as possible, stalling until after the midnight settlement.

The two men outside also heard the commotion from within the cabin, and their hearts sank simultaneously; they knew something terrible had happened inside.

Without a word, the two men charged into the hut, where the thick, pungent scent of blood hit them with enough force to be suffocating.

By the light of the moon, the gruesome scene inside was laid bare in its entirety.

Sun Bowei saw his two younger brothers lying in a pool of blood, already devoid of life. He shuddered, and then a heart-wrenching howl erupted from his throat:

"Ah—!!!"

"Second brother! Third brother! It is your big brother who has failed you!!"

After a bout of wailing, he spun around violently and grabbed Fan Qingyang by the collar. His bloodshot eyes were wide enough to split, and his voice was hoarse and savage:

"You fat pig, didn't you say he was at most at the second level of the Blood-Moving Realm?

My two brothers were both experts at the fifth level of the Blood-Moving Realm, and in such a short time, they are both dead! You had better give me an explanation!"

Fan Qingyang had long since been scared pale by the horrific scene before him. His fat trembled like a sieve, and his tongue was tied in knots:

"I... I don't know either...

Jiang Feng, he... he truly only had the strength of the first level of the Blood-Moving Realm before..."

Sun Bowei stared fixedly into his beady eyes. Only after confirming that he wasn't lying did he shove him aside, turn, and charge out the door, roaring fiercely:

"Move! Follow me and hunt him down! He killed my brothers, and I will tear him into ten thousand pieces!"

Fan Qingyang's mind was already a tangled mess of panic. He stumbled along behind, his face full of worry as he shouted:

"But... but that kid has already fled into the depths of Black Wind Mountain. Can we still catch him?"

Sun Bowei didn't look back, his voice filled with chilling murderous intent:

"Have you forgotten what I do for a living? I am a hunter who makes his living right here in Black Wind Mountain. I wouldn't dare say if he had fled elsewhere, but once he enters this Black Wind Mountain, he is a dead man!"

Meanwhile, Jiang Feng hadn't fled far. Instead, he lay in wait in the woods not far from the cabin, holding his breath and keeping a sharp eye on the movements inside.

He dared not venture too deep into Black Wind Mountain; the dangers within the mountain were far more terrifying than a single eighth-level Blood-Moving Realm expert.

Furthermore, he was unfamiliar with this stretch of forest. To rush in blindly would only lead to a worse outcome. His goal had never been to escape, but to stall for time.

Just then, two figures burst out of the small cabin.

Seeing that there were only two of them, Jiang Feng secretly breathed a sigh of relief. If a whole group had emerged, even if they were all below the eighth level of the Blood-Moving Realm, he would have had to run immediately.

Sun Bowei crouched down to examine the ground, then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping across the dark forest like a blade.

His nostrils flared and his ears twitched slightly. A moment later, those hawk-like eyes locked onto a specific direction.

He reached behind his back to unhook his large ox-horn bow, nocking an arrow in one fluid motion. A savage smile tugged at the corner of his mouth: "Bold! The brat hasn't even run; he's actually watching us!"

Jiang Feng's heart gave a sudden jolt; the target of the man's aim was exactly where he was hiding. With no time to wonder how he had been exposed, he rolled forward instinctively.

The very moment his body moved, a thick arrow whistled through the air, piercing deep into the tree trunk where he had been hiding just a second before, sending wood splinters flying.

Jiang Feng sucked in a cold breath: "If that had hit a person, it would have punched straight through!"

He dared not hesitate any longer and bolted toward the densest part of the forest. The thicker the woods, the less of a threat a bow and arrow would be.

The terrifying sound of the wind being torn apart continued to chase him from behind, each shot closer than the last.

Although he did his best to maintain a serpentine path rather than running in a straight line, several arrows still grazed his body, leaving bloody furrows across his arms and ribs that burned with searing pain.

"This guy's archery is fucking terrifying! Thank goodness it's night and visibility is poor; if it were daytime, I would have been turned into a sieve by now."

He gritted his teeth, not daring to slacken for even a second. Seizing a gap, he put every ounce of his strength into diving deeper into the dense forest, his figure finally disappearing completely into the layers of darkness.

Watching Jiang Feng's trail vanish into the mountain forest, Sun Bowei showed not a hint of anxiety.

He slowly lowered the ox-horn bow, a playful, cat-and-mouse smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Seeing this expression, Fan Qingyang felt even more uneasy and tentatively asked: "Boss Sun, have you discovered something?"

Sun Bowei nodded, his voice muffled and heavy:

"That kid is not nearly as pathetic as you described. From those few moves just now, I have roughly gauged his bottom line."

"What... what is his cultivation level?" Fan Qingyang widened his beady eyes, his face full of curiosity.

"Sixth level of the Blood-Moving Realm. And his foundation is exceptionally solid; compared to those elite disciples in the martial arts halls with top-tier talent, he is not a bit inferior."

Upon hearing this, the fat on Fan Qingyang's face trembled, and his voice rose involuntarily:

"This... how is this possible? Jiang Feng only tested at the first level of the Blood-Moving Realm a month ago. How could he jump to the sixth level in just one month? Boss Sun, could you have misjudged him?"

Sun Bowei sneered, his expression as firm as an iron plate:

"Hmph, I wouldn't dare say much else, but I could never be wrong about this.

The fact that you didn't see it only proves you are blind, and that the kid is deep—he has been deliberately hiding his true strength all along.

With those arrows just now, had his foundation been even slightly shaky or his body control even a bit worse, he would never have been able to dodge them."

Fan Qingyang opened his mouth to argue, but upon meeting Sun Bowei's face—which was so serious it was almost baleful—he swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.

"Boss Sun, since Jiang Feng's true strength is at the sixth level of the Blood-Moving Realm, can we still kill him? Should we... should we retreat for now and call more men to surround him together?"

Sun Bowei shot him a sidelong glance, a disdainful sneer curling his lip, as if looking at some naive fool:

"The seventh level of the Blood-Moving Realm is a hard barrier. No matter how deep his foundation is, he is ultimately still at the sixth level. He has no chance of winning against the seventh level, let alone me, who is at the eighth."

He paused, his words landing like nails being driven into wood: "As long as he dares to show his face before me, he is a dead man."

Hearing this, the heart that had been hanging in Fan Qingyang's throat finally settled back into place. With no more worries, he followed closely behind Sun Bowei, chasing in the direction Jiang Feng had fled.