Seeing that Zhang Guifang's valor was unstoppable, Ji Shukun dared not step forward to meet his edge and instead chose to draw his bow and nock an arrow.
Yin Xun hesitated. "Zhang Guifang is fighting among our soldiers. Though I have some confidence in my archery, I can't aim precisely enough in this chaos. If I loose an arrow, I fear..."
Clearly, Zhang Guifang was just one man amid the densely packed Zhou Army. Even a divine archer who could pierce a willow leaf at a hundred paces would have struggled to thump his chest and guarantee that he would hit Zhang Guifang alone.
"Compared to Zhang Guifang, what do these wretches count for, wailing for their fathers and mothers and thinking of surrendering to save their skins?"
"Take my arrow!"
"Hm?"
Zhang Guifang, drenched in blood from the slaughter, happened to hear the whistle of arrows leaving their bowstrings. He looked up and saw arrow after arrow hurtling through the air.
"They actually dared to loose arrows?"
Startled, Zhang Guifang hurriedly squeezed his horse's flanks to steady himself, gripping his spear with both hands to knock aside the incoming arrows.
But after he knocked one aside, another followed. Xiqi lay in the Northwest, bordering Qiangrong, and most of these twenty-odd capable generals excelled at mounted archery. Even if the chaos made accurate shots difficult, repeated volleys still sent plenty of arrows toward Zhang Guifang.
Zhang Guifang deflected several arrows in succession, but he ultimately missed one. It struck his arm, piercing straight through his right arm.
There was no telling whether the arrow was poisoned. If it was, he would probably need his bone scraped clean.
Zhang Guifang gave a muffled grunt, his right hand instantly losing its strength. Ignoring the pain, he wielded the Pestle Spear in his