The autumn air was crisp, the clouds wispy, and the breeze gentle-the perfect season for the autumn hunt in the imperial preserve below Dragon Gate Mountain.
Sunlight washed the vast, dense forest in rich gold and russet. When the autumn wind swept through, fallen leaves fluttered like butterflies, and the air carried the dry scent of earth and vegetation.
In the distance, sturdy men in the distinctive uniforms of the Imperial Guards rode with whips raised or wielded long poles. Their shouts rose one after another, startling birds from the woods and driving well-fattened roe deer, elk, wild boar, and other beasts toward the prepared hunting enclosure.
Banners fluttered and armor gleamed as a contingent of elite troops stood silently at attention in a semicircle.
A lone rider slowly emerged from their midst, surrounded like the moon amid a host of stars. He wore a purple-gold crown and a bright yellow robe patterned with round dragon medallions. His face was broad, his ears large, and a neatly trimmed short beard framed his chin. Though he said nothing, his features carried an authority that needed no anger to inspire awe. He was Zhao Chang, emperor of Great Chen.
His gaze was keen as a hawk's. Holding an exquisite carved bow, he kept his outstretched arm as steady as Mount Tai, every ounce of his focus gathered at the arrowhead.
Twang-whoosh!
The shrill cry of the whistling arrow tore through the sky. Like a shooting star chasing the moon, the arrow flew with a piercing hiss and sank precisely into the leading elk's neck. The animal gave a mournful cry, staggered a few more steps, then crashed to the ground. Its legs twitched several times before falling still.
"His Majesty hit it! A divine shot! All hail His Majesty's might!"
An eagle-eyed