24. Midnight Hunt

Whoosh!

A sharp, whistling sound traveled from afar, rapidly closing in on Zhang Biao.

Although Zhang Biao had consumed quite a bit of wine and was feeling the effects, he was a genuine Copper-Skin Realm martial artist. Years of bloodshed had honed his instincts, making him highly alert to danger.

Clang!

The moment he sensed the threat, Zhang Biao drew the heavy broadsword from his waist, swinging it backward in an attempt to block the arrow while simultaneously leaning forward to dodge.

Suddenly, a loud "clang" rang out.

The broad surface of his blade intercepted the high-speed arrow, but the immense force behind it left his hand tingling, nearly causing him to drop the weapon.

What incredible force!

Zhang Biao was shocked to his core, realizing he had been targeted by a heavy archer. A Copper-Skin Realm martial artist could hone their skin to be as tough as oxhide, allowing them to resist the invasion of heat, cold, and malevolent energy, and they were unfazed by ordinary scrapes. However, they feared armor-piercing heavy arrows above all else. With his attacker lurking in the shadows, a single moment of carelessness could cost him his life.

Reflecting on this, Zhang Biao dared not be even slightly negligent. He immediately whipped the reins, urging his horse to gallop faster, hoping to escape the danger zone as quickly as possible.

Whoosh!

Another sharp whistle cut through the air.

The arrows shot from a heavy bow were so fast that they reached their target almost the instant the sound was heard, making them extremely difficult to defend against. Consequently, Zhang Biao leaned low over his horse's back, galloping wildly while swinging his sword in a chaotic defensive flurry.

However, this arrow was not aimed at him.

It headed straight for the horse's head.

Squelch!

The horse's head was pierced clean through by the arrow, and it let out a miserable whinny. A moment later, the beast lost its balance and crashed to the ground. Zhang Biao was thrown off by the powerful momentum. Fortunately, he was agile; he used the momentum to roll along the ground, coming to a stop against a poplar tree as thick as a bucket. He pressed his entire body flat against the trunk, not daring to move a muscle.

Shoot the horse before shooting the rider!

His opponent was a veteran.

The terror of death sobered Zhang Biao from his drunken state. He kept glancing around with the corners of his eyes, but he saw only the flickering shadows of trees and branches swaying in the wind. Aside from the occasional bird call, there was no other movement.

The more silence there was, the more panicked Zhang Biao became.

Gulp.

Zhang Biao swallowed hard, calling out, "I am Zhang Biao, an executor under Deacon Wei Dian of the White Feather Hall, Tiger-Wolf Gate. May I ask for your honorable name?"

Xie An, standing in the brambles behind, felt speechless.

I’m planning to take you out; why would I reveal my name? I’d be better off spending this time figuring out how to kill you.

Xie An crept cautiously toward the poplar tree, stopping once he found cover about thirty meters away.

This distance was perfect. It ensured his arrows would have considerable accuracy. Any closer, and he would risk Zhang Biao closing the distance for hand-to-hand combat. Although Xie An felt that his current strength and speed were more than enough to defeat Zhang Biao, he had never practiced martial arts techniques, and close-quarters fighting carried risks.

Growing old, he didn't like risk; a guaranteed win was what mattered most.

Therefore, Xie An made no sound, denying Zhang Biao the chance to locate him by listening.

At this point, Zhang Biao spoke again.

"If I have offended you in any way, please let me know. I will compensate you twofold."

Xie An remained silent. He knew Zhang Biao was fishing for a response to pinpoint his location. While thirty meters was relatively safe, Xie An was unwilling to take even the slightest risk.

Hearing no reply, Zhang Biao continued his cajoling, "Why be this way? If we hold out until dawn, others will arrive, and your plan to kill me will be ruined. Why not propose a condition? Can we not turn our hostility into friendship?"

Xie An still did not answer.

Hold out until dawn? You’re overthinking it...

Xie An silently moved from behind the poplar to the side. He raised his heavy bow with his left hand, skillfully pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back with his right, and nocked it onto the string. His index finger pulled the bow to a full moon.

Whoosh!

An arrow surged forth.

Almost immediately, Xie An shifted his position and continued to draw his bow, firing in rapid succession.

Clang!

Zhang Biao blocked the first arrow with his sword, his hand tingling once more. Startled, he immediately moved around the tree to the opposite side from where the arrow had come. He didn't abandon the tree, intending to play a game of cat and mouse with Xie An.

It was clear he was a veteran with extensive underworld experience.

But then, the second arrow arrived.

Clang, clang, clang.

Each arrow was stronger and faster than the last. To ambush this White Feather Hall executor, Xie An had prepared forty arrows, all tipped with snake venom. If he could break Zhang Biao's skin, he would be finished.

However, Zhang Biao's swordsmanship was indeed formidable. While he couldn't precisely determine the direction of each incoming arrow, he swung his broadsword so fast it looked like an electric fan, causing Xie An no small amount of trouble.

Xie An soon realized that brute force wouldn't work. Moreover, this frantic swinging was exhausting Zhang Biao's stamina. It would be better to wait for the moment he grew tired and slowed down.

Xie An stopped firing. He simply held the bow at full draw, hiding in the darkness, arrow nocked and ready.

At this moment, Xie An was like an old hunter, staring fixedly at his prey. He only needed to wait for the prey to grow tired and stop swinging the blade—that would be the moment of his death.

When it came to patience, Xie An felt he could outlast anyone.

Although holding a full draw was taxing, Xie An had long practiced longevity techniques, giving him deep, rhythmic breathing. He lacked nothing if not endurance.

Perhaps Zhang Biao realized this too. After spinning like an electric fan for several minutes, he finally grew weary, his speed slowing significantly. Gasping for breath, he said, "Sir, there is no need for this. I apologize. I was wrong. Please, just say a word and spare me, would you?"

He didn't even know what he had done to offend the other party, yet he was offering apologies and begging for mercy; it was clear he was terrified to the point of breaking.

Xie An knew the prey was at the end of its rope. He still remained silent, hiding in the dark, watching his target intently. In such an environment, silence and the unknown brought Zhang Biao the greatest terror.

"Sir, I have five hundred taels at home. I’ll give it all to you, how about that?" Zhang Biao's fan-like swings grew slower and slower, his heart filled with mounting dread.

From the start of the standoff until now, he didn't even know who his attacker was, nor had he seen a face. But the more unknown the threat, the more intense the fear Zhang Biao felt. Unknown entities were the most terrifying.

"Sir, I’ll tell you the truth. I have two thousand taels at home. It’s all yours, okay?"

"I also have a concubine, a real beauty. She came from the Yi-Hong Brothel; her skills are top-notch, enough to make a man feel like he's in heaven. I'll give her to you as well."

"I have more..."

As his sword swings became increasingly sluggish, Zhang Biao knew the hunter was about to strike, and he began offering every incentive he could think of. Yet the other party refused to make a single sound, completely shattering Zhang Biao's resolve. He felt that the last ten years of his life combined were not as terrifying as this one moment.

He offered money, and they didn't want it. He offered a woman, and they didn't want her...

Dammit!

Finally, Zhang Biao could no longer swing his sword. Not knowing where the attacker was hidden, he suddenly leaped from behind the poplar tree and bolted into the distance, screaming.

At that very moment—

Whoosh!

An arrow tore through the air. The exhausted Zhang Biao failed to defend himself. He felt a chill at the back of his head, and then he collapsed stiffly onto the ground.

As he died, he tried to turn his head in frustration, finally catching a glimpse of a figure emerging from the darkness. Before he could make out the man's face, he could hold on no longer. His vision went black, and he was gone.