Chapter Forty-Five: The Deadly Divine Archer

If before, Wei Qing’s easy camaraderie with Qin Cheng still seemed tinged with an intent to curry favor, now his unrestrained joy was utterly genuine. Riding at full gallop, Wei Qing found himself heading north, covering twenty or thirty miles before he realized it.

“Minor Captain, I’ll admit your knowledge surpasses mine, but when it comes to horsemanship, you really need to improve,” Wei Qing laughed, glancing back to see Qin Cheng drenched in sweat, struggling behind him. Gone was the composed air from their earlier debate. Wei Qing couldn’t help but tease him.

Qin Cheng wiped his brow, cursing inwardly that Wei Qing, having enjoyed himself, hadn’t spared a thought for him and now even had the leisure to mock him. He forced a bitter smile and replied, “General Wei, your riding skills are unmatched, I know I cannot compare. But you were really fast just now—at this rate, you’ll reach the Great Wall in less than half an hour.”

Wei Qing laughed loudly, “Even if we reach the Great Wall, so what? Coming to the northern lands and seeing the Wall is a rare delight! You, Minor Captain, are used to it and naturally unimpressed, but for someone like myself who’s never seen it, it’s a fine sight indeed!” He finally slowed his mount.

Qin Cheng mused, perhaps even people of this era knew the saying, ‘One who fails to reach the Great Wall is no hero.’ He himself, despite traversing to this time, had yet to see it. “If General Wei wishes to see the Wall, I’ll accompany you. But it’s late, and if we reach the Wall, we likely won’t make it back to Qiansang City before nightfall.”

“That’s true,” Wei Qing nodded. “But if we don’t go today, there may be no chance to make the trip later. If we can’t return before dark, so be it. The four of us aren’t afraid of the night road.”

Qin Cheng was stymied by Wei Qing’s stubbornness. He realized this must be Wei Qing’s true nature and decided not to argue further, preparing to ride on with him.

“General, there’s someone over there!” one of the accompanying guards suddenly called.

Wei Qing and Qin Cheng followed his gesture and saw, a hundred yards away, three figures appearing atop a hill. Each held a long bow and wore clothing different from Han attire.

As Qin Cheng and Wei Qing puzzled over this, those three noticed them as well. Qin Cheng watched as the strangers exchanged a few words, then promptly stood atop the hill, nocking arrows and aiming directly at them.

Seeing the strangers instantly adopt a stance to shoot them dead, without the slightest hesitation, Qin Cheng and Wei Qing immediately understood these were not Han men.

“Dismount!” Wei Qing shouted, leaping sideways and pulling Qin Cheng down from his horse. Both tumbled to the hillside.

Before Qin Cheng could react, he heard three simultaneous neighs. Turning, he saw their three warhorses collapse, tumbling down the slope.

Looking closely, Qin Cheng was shocked—not for any other reason, but because all three horses had been shot through the head: two had arrows piercing both ears, one had an arrow through both eyes, each cleanly entering and exiting. The precision and force were terrifying!

If Qin Cheng remembered correctly, the two sides were separated by a full hundred yards! A hundred yards—at least three hundred paces. The fact that the strangers could shoot so far, and with such accuracy, seemed almost inhuman.

As Qin Cheng reeled in disbelief, Wei Qing had already sprung up, striding to the last remaining horse, grabbing its reins, and with a powerful pull, dragged the animal over as if hauling cargo. The horse, losing balance, was pulled down, tumbling after the others.

Qin Cheng had just been stunned by the strangers’ uncanny archery; now Wei Qing’s supernatural strength shocked him again. He suddenly felt as if he’d encountered a ghost. His own martial prowess was already extraordinary, yet here was someone even more so.

The horse, though battered, was far better off than being killed by an arrow. Wei Qing dragged it below the hill, keeping its head lower than the crest, then crouched beside Qin Cheng.

Qin Cheng handed his bow and arrow to him, while taking his own. The two guards readied their bows, lying in wait and observing the enemy.

“General, they’re coming!” As soon as Wei Qing took the bow, a guard warned.

Cautiously, Qin Cheng and Wei Qing peeked out. The three strangers had already spread out, approaching from three directions. Having killed their horses, their intent was unmistakable—they meant to slaughter Qin Cheng and his companions here.

“What the hell are these people? Their archery is outrageously unreal!” Qin Cheng exclaimed, inwardly thinking their skills were practically supernatural.

“With such archery, they must be Xiongnu eagle shooters!” Wei Qing spat, clearly frustrated at being ambushed right after boasting he would make his mark against the enemy. Now, after their first encounter, they’d already lost three fine warhorses—how could he not be angry? “We can’t let them get close, or we’re doomed!”

All three were master archers. Aside from Wei Qing, the archery of Qin Cheng’s group was unlikely to threaten them. The three enemies were flanking left and right, clearly planning to outmaneuver and avoid their bows. The central archer was ready, and Qin Cheng could imagine that the moment anyone revealed themselves, he would shoot without hesitation. But if they didn’t expose themselves, and the enemy’s pincer movement succeeded, it would be as good as suicide.

Facing three eagle shooters with monstrous martial and mental prowess, Qin Cheng and his companions felt their scalps tingle.

He didn’t know exactly what an eagle shooter was, but Qin Cheng wasn’t about to waste time pondering their identity. Their skill was clear—the immediate concern was how to escape this predicament.

None dared to show themselves, firing random arrows toward the enemy. While ineffective, it at least gave some comfort.

“You two, left and right, hold those eagle shooters back. Don’t let them approach!” Wei Qing commanded, for he had no better solution at hand.

“Wait!” Qin Cheng stopped him, knowing that splitting up would only delay the inevitable—one by one, they’d be picked off. It was better to stay together and concentrate their firepower. After calling out, he turned to Wei Qing and said solemnly, “General Wei, if you have an opportunity, can you guarantee a lethal shot against the central eagle shooter?”

“Of course. Give me one arrow, and I’ll drive it through his skull!” Wei Qing replied, then, realizing Qin Cheng’s intent, grabbed his arm. “Minor Captain, what are you planning?”

Lying atop the hill, Qin Cheng glanced left and right, gauging the positions of the flanking eagle shooters. Shaking off Wei Qing’s grip, he said resolutely, “We have but one chance—if we miss it, we’ll all perish here!” As he spoke, he signaled to the three eagle shooters advancing. “General Wei, our lives are in your hands!”

With that, he leaped out, springing over the hill to the other side!

At that moment, the two flanking eagle shooters reached the crest, about to step onto the other side—precisely where Qin Cheng and his companions lay in wait.

Qin Cheng burst forth, and the central eagle shooter, though surprised, reacted instantly, aiming at Qin Cheng mid-air as if by reflex.

At the same time, Wei Qing rose, bow and arrow aimed at the central eagle shooter.

The sound of two arrows leaving the string rang out, iron-tipped arrows flying in opposite directions.

Meanwhile, the two guards leaped up, each facing a flanking eagle shooter, springing over the hill and loosing iron arrows in midair.

All these actions happened almost simultaneously.

The two flanking eagle shooters, as soon as their feet touched the crest and their vision encompassed the Han soldiers, saw the iron arrows coming. But with their masterful skill, they instantly realized these arrows would never hit them.

With a cold sneer, both drew their bows and fired!

A piercing sound—an iron arrow struck flesh.

Wei Qing’s shot struck the central eagle shooter’s head with deadly accuracy, and his body collapsed with disbelief still on his face.

Qin Cheng, meanwhile, was airborne. The central eagle shooter, with his exceptional skill, calculated Qin Cheng’s landing trajectory and shot an iron arrow precisely at the spot where Qin Cheng would land. Had nothing gone awry, Qin Cheng’s ear would have been pierced!

If that happened, Qin Cheng would die instantly.

As the arrow and Qin Cheng were about to collide, Qin Cheng’s body, mid-air, suddenly paused in a peculiar way. Though brief, it was enough—the arrow missed his ear!

Watching the arrow brush past his eyelashes, Qin Cheng swore to himself never to experience such a moment again.

He landed safely.

Having lived in the twenty-first century for over thirty years, Qin Cheng knew well the basketball move called ‘hang-time.’ He’d just used it, pausing his body in mid-air to narrowly escape death.

Hang-time sounds simple, but executing it is anything but. If the opponent hadn’t been an eagle shooter, and not aiming for his head, he wouldn’t have dared attempt it. If the arrow was aimed at his body, no amount of hang-time would save him.

He also had to judge the timing precisely. If not for his accurate assessment, the flanking shooters could have easily killed him. He only leaped out because he’d calculated their positions and blind spots.

Finally, he trusted Wei Qing’s archery. If Wei Qing hadn’t previously pierced the white fox’s ears with one shot, Qin Cheng would never have risked it.

Of course, using himself as bait was a perilous move; any slip could mean disaster.

But hiding behind the hill and waiting for death was a surefire route to a messy end.

As Qin Cheng landed, Wei Qing leaped after him. All four now found themselves on the other side of the hill, momentarily hidden from the flanking eagle shooters.

Still, two iron arrows zipped past Wei Qing—shots from the flanking shooters. The guards had successfully attracted their attention for that instant, saving Wei Qing’s life.

Wei Qing, mid-air, twisted and landed upright, facing a flanking eagle shooter who had just entered his view. Without hesitation, he shot an iron arrow at the shooter’s head.

At the same time, the two guards and Qin Cheng nocked and fired at the other flanking shooter, who had just crossed the ridge and hadn’t yet fired again.

The sound of an arrow striking flesh—Wei Qing’s arrow found its mark, and the shooter fell dead on the hill.

The other shooter, targeted by three arrows, deftly dodged them, disappearing from sight. Clearly, Qin Cheng and his companions’ archery was no match.

Wei Qing turned, third arrow ready, aimed at the spot where the shooter had taken cover.

In just two breaths, the tide had turned. Through Qin Cheng’s daring sacrifice and Wei Qing’s superb archery, they seized control of the battle.

Silence.

The scene fell still.

The last eagle shooter dared not show himself, and Wei Qing’s group had no intention of entering his line of fire, knowing it would mean certain casualties.

Five men, two fronts, using the ridge for cover, faced off.

After a while, Qin Cheng laid down his bow and sat on the grass to rest, calling to the guards, “Come rest as well—leave that fellow to General Wei. Our archery won’t be much help anyway.”

Wei Qing nearly blew his nose in outrage—he’d never seen someone so shameless in their incompetence. Even if that were true, couldn’t Qin Cheng at least make a show of effort? That would help balance his feelings. But Qin Cheng clearly lacked such awareness.

The two guards exchanged glances, finding Qin Cheng’s logic sound, and joined him in sitting down.

Wei Qing almost spat blood at the sight.

Damn, such shamelessness—he’d never seen the like.

The Xiongnu eagle shooter could hear their conversation clearly, but dared not act rashly. Who knew if it was a ruse?

Thus, the five-man standoff became a two-man duel.

“What’s the origin of these eagle shooters, and why are they so formidable?” Qin Cheng asked the guards beside him.

One guard, evidently more talkative, cleared his throat and replied, “An eagle shooter is the strongest archer among the Xiongnu.”

“Oh,” Qin Cheng nodded thoughtfully, looking around. With nothing else to do, he asked, “Could you explain more?”

“There’s an old saying: ‘Of all birds in flight, only the eagle is hard to shoot.’ Steppe eagles typically have a wingspan of twenty to thirty feet, preferring to hover at heights of a hundred yards, searching for prey before swooping down to attack, capable of hunting sheep or deer,” the guard, evidently of noble birth and broad knowledge, explained. “Ordinary archers can’t shoot so high, and it’s said that the eagle’s feathers are slick and shiny. Unless the arrow strikes vertically, it slides off, making it hard to wound or kill. So, shooting an eagle requires not just accuracy, but also the strength to draw a powerful bow.”

“I see,” Qin Cheng nodded.

The guard, seeing Qin Cheng’s earnest attention, felt rather proud. He’d overheard Qin Cheng’s earlier discussion with Wei Qing on cavalry matters and knew Qin Cheng was a learned—