"You scoundrel, how dare you bully me?"
Within Yan Palace, on the training grounds, Zhou Fugui retreated immediately after his strike missed, intending to create distance from Pu Yijian for ranged combat.
In this world, for an ordinary soldier, the effective lethal range of arrows was about seventy to eighty paces. For those with exceptional archery skills, using a powerful bow, the lethal distance was much greater, at least around three hundred paces. For top-tier archery masters, the effective lethal range was even further.
Zhou Fugui did not know how many paces Pu Yijian could shoot, but he was certain that as the proclaimed number one archer of the Great Yan Kingdom, his effective lethal range must be substantial, at least above four hundred paces. Zhou Fugui's improved Yueyue Bow had an effective lethal range exceeding four hundred and fifty paces. Therefore, creating distance for ranged combat with Pu Yijian was his best strategy.
However, Zhou Fugui's move was somewhat risky. The reason was Pu Yijian's superior horse. The large Dahong horse beneath Pu Yijian was far more spirited than Zhou Fugui's black horse, making it difficult for Zhou Fugui to create distance for ranged combat. Moreover, Zhou Fugui was running while Pu Yijian was pursuing, and the difficulty of shooting backward while fleeing was far greater than Pu Yijian's.
But everything in this world had its advantages and disadvantages. While Zhou Fugui's backward shooting was more difficult, he had the advantage of closing the distance.
By the time Zhou Fugui drew and loosed his arrow, Pu Yijian had already charged forward a considerable distance. This reduced the gap, while for Pu Yijian, it was the opposite.
Zhou Fugui's sneak attack failed, and he fled on his horse. Pu Yijian, enraged, spurred his horse in pursuit, simultaneously drawing his bow and nocking an arrow, aiming for Zhou Fugui's back.
Pu Yijian truly lived up to his reputation as the Great Yan Kingdom's number one archer. This arrow carried immense power and speed, flying like a meteor straight towards Zhou Fugui's back.
Seeing the perilous situation, Zhou Fugui turned around and loosed two arrows in quick succession.
Wasn't Pu Yijian known for his rapid-fire arrows? Zhou Fugui was no slouch either. He drew his bow as if embracing a full moon, and his arrows flew like lightning, one close behind the other, only inches apart, both at incredible speed.
With a soft "crack," Zhou Fugui's first arrow collided with Pu Yijian's arrow, sparking a few embers before falling to the dust. His second arrow flew straight towards Pu Yijian.
"Hah!"
The exceptionally skilled Pu Yijian followed suit, let out a roar, and swiftly loosed an arrow, striking Zhou Fugui's incoming arrow. The two arrows collided once more, falling together to the dust.
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"
"Divine arrows! Truly divine arrows!"
"Is such a divine skill possible in this world?"
"In all my life, to witness such divine skill is a life well-lived!"
The arrowheads were exceedingly small. During flight, they appeared no larger than ants to the eye, making the probability of arrows colliding in mid-air extremely low. Yet, the arrows shot by these two men collided twice consecutively, indicating that both possessed exceptional accuracy. Zhou Fugui and Pu Yijian were both masters of archery.
When arrows flew in a volley, collisions were relatively rare, but these two men, aiming with precision, had their arrows collide twice in a row.
The onlookers were utterly astonished by their divine skills, erupting into thunderous cheers.
However, the main event was yet to come!
Zhou Fugui and Pu Yijian, one fleeing and one pursuing, exchanged arrow for arrow. Although the training grounds of Yan Palace were quite spacious, they were not the open wilderness where they could run indefinitely.
Zhou Fugui galloped his horse, and Pu Yijian pursued relentlessly. Reaching the end of the training grounds, Zhou Fugui turned his horse, now presenting a side profile to Pu Yijian.
Shooting an arrow from a sideways position was significantly easier, but presenting a side profile to the opponent also increased the target area, meaning any part of his body could be hit, or even his mount's legs.
With two "clacks," Zhou Fugui loosed two arrows sideways. Pu Yijian did not evade; he swung his bow, swatting away the incoming arrows. Then, with a roar, he stomped his feet in the stirrups, and his stout body remarkably leaped onto the horse's back, standing upright on it.
Shooting arrows while standing was undoubtedly superior to shooting while seated, offering greater power and accuracy.
When shooting from a standing position, one could utilize the strength of the back and waist, whereas shooting from a seated position relied almost entirely on arm strength.
With a series of "whooshes," Pu Yijian finally unleashed his signature technique, the rapid-fire volley. Nocking and drawing his bow, he loosed three arrows in one fluid motion. The three arrows followed one another, flying with lightning speed towards Zhou Fugui.
Pu Yijian's rapid-fire arrow skill far surpassed Zhou Fugui's. Not only was the power immense, but the accuracy was also superb, accompanied by a heart-stopping whistling sound through the air, like three whistling arrows. As the three arrows approached Zhou Fugui, they suddenly split into three, diverging to the left, center, and right. This meant that no matter which direction Zhou Fugui dodged, he would be hit. Furthermore, a horse was not a human; Zhou Fugui could not achieve perfect unity between man and beast, unless it was his old horse.
At this moment, the air on the training grounds seemed to congeal, time itself appeared to stand still. No one cheered, no one spoke; there was a deathly silence. The successive divine archery skills displayed by Pu Yijian and Zhou Fugui left everyone mesmerized, their eyes wide with astonishment, mouths agape, unable to utter a single word. They were more intensely nervous than Pu Yijian and Zhou Fugui themselves, who were locked in combat.
In truth, at this point, Zhou Fugui had already proven himself exceptionally capable by matching the Great Yan Kingdom's number one archer, General Pu Yijian, blow for blow. Even in defeat, it would be a glorious one, bringing him immense fame.
However, this was a battlefield of the Great Yan Kingdom, and its arenas were akin to Roman coliseums; without a victor and a vanquished, without life and death decided, the contest would not cease.
The three arrows flew with deadly speed, leaving almost no blind spot. Unable to evade, Zhou Fugui, in desperation, performed the "stirrup concealment." He bent low, bracing himself against the stirrups with his feet, gripping the reins with one hand, his body almost hidden on the flank of his warhorse.
Over two years of bloody battlefield slaughter, two years of trials by fire, Zhou Fugui's horsemanship had already improved dramatically.
But who could have foreseen that Pu Yijian's archery was so superb, so exquisitely skilled? The arrow aimed at Zhou Fugui dipped downwards, and with a "clang," it struck Zhou Fugui's helmet, scattering his hair, which then fluttered in the wind. The arrow's momentum unabated, with a "thwack," it pierced the black horse's hindquarters.
The black horse, struck by the arrow, was instantly driven mad with pain. It whinnied loudly, rearing and galloping wildly across the field. Consequently, the black horse would not last long, and Zhou Fugui would find it difficult to control a maddened warhorse.
In this life-or-death duel, Zhou Fugui was gradually falling behind.
"Fugui!"
Murong Huiying, watching from the stands, was on the verge of a breakdown. Her heart pounded wildly, her face flushed crimson. Seeing Zhou Fugui struck, she clutched her thigh in fright, stood up, and called out loudly to Zhou Fugui.
"Ah! Ooooh, it hurts so much..." Murong Huiying's grip landed once again on the thigh of the Great Yan's Eldest Princess, Murong Xiaoxiao. Murong Xiaoxiao, already extremely tense, now coupled with Murong Huiying's grasp, let out a cry.
"Oh no!" Zhou Fugui leaped onto his horse, desperately trying to control his mount. Reaching for his quiver, he found only one arrow left.
In their duel on the training grounds, both Pu Yijian and Zhou Fugui were allotted ten arrows each. If no victor was decided after ten arrows, they would each take another ten, to definitively determine the outcome. Of course, this would only happen after both had exhausted their initial ten arrows, and then they would replenish their quivers simultaneously.
Zhou Fugui, in the intensity of the battle, had neglected to conserve his arrows. He estimated that Pu Yijian had at least three or four arrows remaining.
Once Zhou Fugui ran out of arrows, he would become a lamb to the slaughter. Pu Yijian could leisurely hunt him down.
At this very moment, with his warhorse injured, Zhou Fugui was at an even greater disadvantage.
"Haha!" Pu Yijian, the Great Yan's Left Guard General and a seasoned veteran, immediately recognized Zhou Fugui's predicament. He no longer rushed, cautiously guarding against Zhou Fugui's final arrow while slowly riding closer. He laughed heartily, "Commander Zhou, to be able to exchange a few blows with this general is quite an accomplishment! I deeply admire you. And you are still so young, alas, what a pity, what a pity!"
Pu Yijian shook his round head, a look of profound regret on his face.
Zhou Fugui slowly drew out his last arrow and placed it on the Yueyue Bow. He looked at Pu Yijian, silent.
A sliver of the setting sun illuminated Zhou Fugui, his hair disheveled, creating a scene of striking, melancholic beauty.
"Commander Zhou, this is my unique, secret skill. Be careful!"
"The Returning Divine Arrow!"
Pu Yijian's words were polite, displaying an air of benevolence, but his actions were merciless. He swiftly and ferociously loosed two arrows.
"Whoosh!"
The two arrows flew through the air with a disturbing sound. One arrow aimed at Zhou Fugui's left, and the other at his right. Mid-flight, they veered, with one arrow spinning towards Zhou Fugui's back, and the other towards his chest.
The arrows' flight paths were unpredictable and incredibly fast, making them extremely difficult to dodge. Moreover, Zhou Fugui was nearly exhausted, and his black horse was already wounded. The crowd on the field then heard two soft "thwacks." Both arrows struck Zhou Fugui's chest and back almost simultaneously.
Zhou Fugui's body swayed on his horse, and he fell to the ground, tumbling into the dust.
"Ah? Heavens!"
The crowd gasped in unison. Some felt heartache, some felt regret, some gloated, and some rejoiced.
Those who gloated did so out of jealousy. Those who rejoiced were the ones who would gain money from Zhou Fugui's death. Although the sum was not large, it was still better than losing.
However, most of the sounds were of regret, mourning the loss of a young, heroic general.
"Fugui!" Seeing this, Murong Huiying's tears instantly streamed down her face. She moved to rush down from the viewing platform to be with Zhou Fugui.
"Sister Ziyue..." Eldest Princess Murong Xiaoxiao, who had been with Murong Huiying, was unknowingly swept up in her emotions, feeling as if she were experiencing it herself, her eyes also welling up with tears.