Chapter 147: [All Shall Bear Witness!]

The entire audience was stunned!

At that moment, dozens of eyes all fixed intently on the young general.

Xia Ya’s expression remained calm, suppressing a heartbeat pounding like a drum. He slowly rode his horse forward to the Emperor of the Lancer’s side. Mounted, he simply held his longbow horizontally against his chest and slightly inclined his body, speaking in a tone neither humble nor arrogant: “Your Majesty, Xia Ya reports!”

That arrow—if precision alone were the measure—among everyone present, including the nobles and the seasoned eagle-division generals, all of whom were superior archers to Xia Ya, none would have been able to match him. His arrow struck the deer’s neck, nearly piercing through it. Blood sprayed forth, yet it was not a lethal shot. The deer collapsed before the Emperor’s horse, still breathing lightly, struggling faintly.

Had a true archery master fired that arrow, the deer would have been dead instantly.

But Xia Ya’s arrow triumphed through sheer power!

Simply put... it was ferociously mighty! Wildly forceful!

On the trunks of two towering trees in the distance, egg-sized holes appeared, completely pierced by a single arrow! Under the tremendous penetrating power of the Ju Xiao Bow, the arrow pierced both trees. The remaining force was enough to send a mature stag airborne with one shot?!

Such power was monstrous!

Though the arrow missed the deer’s vital spot, the rustic archer’s advantage was in strength! The arrowhead pierced the deer's neck, and the force shattered the neck bones instantly! So, although the deer was not dead, it could no longer leap or struggle, lying obediently bleeding, awaiting death.

Among the dozens of gazes—some shocked, some envious, some jealous—Xia Ya merely maintained a resolute expression, looking toward the Lancer Emperor. Emperor Cantos revealed a faint smile—a subtle yet genuine expression of approval.

The Lancer Emperor was very pleased. This young man was indeed bringing honor to his name.

The Emperor pursed his lips, and immediately several court envoys approached, kneeling with golden knives. They slit the deer’s throat, drawing a bowl of steaming fresh blood, then, with skillful strokes, cut off the antlers.

Cantos Emperor quietly surveyed the nobles behind him, then smiled warmly: “Xia Ya truly embodies valor and martial spirit. I proclaim him a fine son of the Byzantine Empire!”

At this, a quick-witted noble burst out laughing: “Your Majesty’s discerning eye! General Xia Ya, favored by Your Majesty, will surely realize great ambitions and not betray your trust!”

Others chuckled: “May the gods bless us, for the Byzantine army is filled with young heroes! It is Your Majesty’s great fortune!”

Several eagle-division generals bore courteous smiles as they looked at Xia Ya. They had heard of him before, but since everyone was in the military, the true story behind the incident at Hastings was well known, so they had not paid him much attention initially. Now, seeing him step forward, his arrow’s precision was average, but the bow’s power was truly astonishing—it proved he was no fraud but genuinely capable. Moreover, Xia Ya was friendly with the eagle division’s portly Rour and the mad dog Green. Since the Emperor had openly endorsed him, these generals, following the current, all laughed and offered praise.

The Emperor’s face brightened noticeably. Looking at Xia Ya, who remained unflustered and not a bit conceited, the Emperor’s satisfaction deepened.

A servant presented the cut antlers and bowl of deer blood. By tradition, the first game of the hunt was bestowed upon a favored subject—usually the Emperor’s most trusted in recent times. In past years, if Duke Minas had attended, the first share would naturally go to him or his heir. Besides Duke Minas, the commander of the royal city guards and Yanjing’s chief administrator had also received this honor.

But today... indeed! The Emperor smiled faintly: “Since this deer was hunted by Xia Ya, the spoils shall be his.”

He glanced at Xia Ya.

Xia Ya maintained a proud, brave expression, neither humble nor arrogant, nodding slightly as he accepted the bowl of deer blood. Ignoring the iron scent of blood, he tilted his head back and gulped it down in one swallow.

The deer blood was pungently gamey, but for a rustic mountain-born youth like Xia Ya, this was nothing. He had lived by eating raw meat and drinking blood—what was a little fresh blood?

Moreover, deer blood was highly nourishing. After finishing the bowl, Xia Ya was still somewhat wanting more, wiping the blood from his lips with bright eyes: “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

The nobles present, the most prestigious families and powers of Yanjing, were astonished. For so many years, none had ever won such favor from the Emperor. Alongside their surprise, they also calculated secretly: this youth had the Emperor’s favor, so his future was promising! Though currently only a baron with nominal command over one district’s military supplies—a rank of little real import to true aristocrats—being favored by the Emperor meant that showing kindness to him now was a long-term investment. The Emperor would be pleased to see their goodwill.

In no time, many of the great families had quietly marked Xia Ya as someone to win over.

The Lancer Emperor seemed in a particularly good mood today, for reasons unknown. He found the young man, clad in military attire, very agreeable. His earlier actions had greatly enhanced Xia Ya’s reputation.

Suddenly, on a whim, he had a servant bring the arrow taken from the deer. The Emperor held it and examined it. The weight alone pleased him, prompting a closer look at Xia Ya.

He was the famed Lancer Emperor, a veteran of many years’ service. Though aged now, his eyes were sharp and discerning. Such a heavy arrow, forged with a solid iron shaft and a three-edged bloodletting tip, demanded great strength from the archer.

Among the nobles’ sons who participated annually in the hunt, some tried hard to curry the Emperor’s favor, but most led pampered lives of luxury and excess. Their bones had softened from indulgence in wine and cosmetics. Where was the spirit of true valor? In past hunts, these young men vied to impress, sometimes aided by cheating attendants. Even those claiming genuine skill displayed only flashy but hollow techniques. Their arrows flew true but lacked strength. Using bamboo shafts, the arrows might seem fine at short range but would bend and falter at distance or in the wind. Such archery was good for show but useless in battle.

The Emperor gripped the arrow shaft and suddenly, with a flash of brilliance in his eyes, he bent it forcefully with both hands. With a crack, the shaft only bent slightly—it did not break! A satisfied smile crossed his face as he dropped the bent arrow to the ground, then looked at Xia Ya: “How heavy is this arrow?”

Xia Ya glanced at the arrow on the ground with some reluctance—he had heard it was expensive. Hearing the Emperor’s question, he hesitated momentarily before replying, “Three jin.”

“Three jin?” the Lancer Emperor laughed heartily. “Excellent! When I was young, I used golden arrows weighing only two jin!” He paused, then glanced at Xia Ya again. “Hmm, you seem quite attached to your arrow, don’t you?”

Xia Ya did not hide it. The cunning rustic had resolved that since the Emperor seemed to appreciate straightforwardness, he might as well be candid. He said loudly, “Yes, this arrow is handmade and costly. I only have twenty in total, and today Your Majesty broke one. Next time, I’ll have to be more careful using them.”

“Ha ha ha! Very good! A warrior cherishes his weapons—that’s as it should be!” The Emperor suddenly looked at the Crown Prince standing silently behind him. From the moment Xia Ya had shot the deer until the praise that followed, the Crown Prince had remained expressionless and silent.

The Emperor studied the Crown Prince, then spoke thoughtfully: “I have broken this young man’s arrow, but you shall not lose a good weapon for it.” He looked at the Crown Prince. “Garcia!”

“Father!” Garcia bowed slightly on horseback, every movement precise and measured.

“You oversee the Court’s Ordnance Office. I have a task for you.” The Emperor said lightly, “Go to Baron Xia Ya and request another of his arrows. Then have a hundred made and gifted to him. The cost will be covered by the court’s expenses.”

He looked again at Xia Ya: “A soldier cannot lack proper weapons. Xia Ya, do you understand my intention?”

Xia Ya was overjoyed. He pounded his chest and saluted: “Thank you, Your Majesty, for the gift of arrows!”

“Ha! Good! I gave you deer blood and antlers—such great honor cannot be bought with gold, but you did not thank me. Yet for a mere hundred arrows, you are grateful! Excellent!” The Emperor laughed heartily, spurring his horse toward the forest. After a few steps, he glanced back and smiled warmly: “Boy, what are you waiting for? Follow me!”

Such open favor was rare in past years! Among the many astonished nobles, Xia Ya’s face remained unchanged. He cautiously followed behind the Emperor, keeping a horse’s distance but naturally falling beside Crown Prince Garcia.

The nobles hurried to keep pace. Along the way, they whispered amongst themselves. Many had planned to make a grand showing today, but their spirits had waned. They understood this: no matter what they did next, they could not outshine Baron Xia Ya. Even if they could, it would not please the Emperor; indeed, it might arouse his displeasure.

As they walked through the forest, Garcia glanced at Xia Ya riding abreast. His expression remained stern, neither pleased nor angry. “Baron Xia Ya, give me one of your arrows.”

Taking the arrow Xia Ya handed over, Garcia looked it over: “Within ten days, I will send a hundred more.”

Only these few words were spoken between them during the journey. Xia Ya thought to himself: he had heard that the Crown Prince hated him because of the Bonfret incident, but today the Prince showed no hostility. Perhaps such a person would never reveal true feelings easily.

Thinking of that damned Bonfret, Xia Ya looked at the Crown Prince again. Garcia was handsome, bearing some vague resemblance to the Lancer Emperor in features, but less heroic and more delicate in temperament.

The Lancer Emperor, though aged and sickly, still flashed the spirit of a mighty lion—old but still formidable.

But the Crown Prince—his demeanor was rigid, steeped in royal etiquette, yet he seemed dull and weak. Though not yet thirty, he lacked the vigor of youth.

(Damn it, are all those who take the easy route so weirdly insincere?)

***

By afternoon, the hunt became a stage for the young nobles. After a brief show by the elder dignitaries, the opportunity was given over to the youth. Young scions from noble families spread out with their attendants and knights, seeking game in the forest.

Soon, groups returned bearing abundant prey: deer, foxes, rabbits, and fowl. It was unclear whether these were taken by the young nobles themselves or by their skilled attendants.

Alongside the hunt, there were archery contests with targets set up. Competitive youths wagered heavily on their shooting skills. These events were traditional, and the Emperor enjoyed witnessing them, hoping to inspire the young nobles to remember the spirit of valor.

But this year, after Xia Ya’s deer shot, the contests lacked enthusiasm. Some hot-headed youths were secretly resentful of Xia Ya stealing the spotlight but dared not confront him.

Xia Ya himself knew his limits. His archery was good but not dazzling enough to dominate. He kept a low profile, staying close to the Emperor and avoiding the contests—an act of discretion.

Occasionally, some nobles approached to converse. Knowing the Emperor was near, Xia Ya pretended to be an unsophisticated rustic soldier, speaking sparingly to avoid mistakes, expressing politeness and goodwill but maintaining a degree of formality and distance. The Emperor observed him from afar several times, pleased to see Xia Ya knew his place.

Xia Ya was no fool. He understood the nobles’ attempts to win him over. Without the Emperor’s favor, these powerful families would not deign to glance at a lowborn mountain rustic like him. So, he did not take their overtures too seriously. With the Emperor’s favor, they would continue to show kindness; there was no need to appear overly friendly now.

Thus, Xia Ya’s nature was cunning and shrewd.

***

In the afternoon, Xia Ya did not shoot another arrow, maintaining caution.

By evening, court servants had gathered all the day’s game and lit bonfires. Palace chefs prepared roasted lamb, venison, chicken, rabbit, and other wild game. The camp soon filled with the aroma of sizzling meat.

An outdoor barbecue feast began. The Emperor, bored with the artificiality of court banquets—the perfumes, the music, the etiquette, the false peace—was thoroughly interested in this lively atmosphere. Large chunks of meat, hearty drinking, swords at their sides, and bows nearby—this reminded him of his youth, campaigning and fighting, eating stew in army camps.

Barrels of fine wine were brought out, and once again Xia Ya shone.

He had a naturally strong tolerance for alcohol, and the nobles could not compare to this mountain-born wine tank raised by old veterans.

The Emperor praised him further, and Xia Ya, emboldened, drank heartily. Soon, a few young nobles, resentful of his prominence, tried to get him drunk, only to be carried away themselves, defeated.

Xia Ya, now quite intoxicated, removed his armor and cloak, revealing a bare chest muscular as a young bull’s. His muscles were sharply defined, as if carved by a knife, brimming with explosive strength!

Such rugged vigor was incomparable to the bloated, pampered nobles hollowed out by luxury.

The Emperor, seeing Xia Ya bare-chested, squinted his eyes and pointed: “Xia Ya, come here!”

Though the camp was noisy, the Emperor’s command instantly silenced everyone.

Xia Ya, ignorant of the reason, strode to the Emperor’s side.

Cantos Emperor, heavily drunk and flushed, looked at the scars on Xia Ya’s skin. To the keen eye of a seasoned warrior, these were clearly battle wounds.

“Xia Ya, stand tall and let everyone see your scars!” The Emperor suddenly stood, laughing heartily. “A fine man’s scars are his best medals! What’s there to be shy about? Stand up straight!”

The Emperor, quite drunk, even referred to himself in a rough manner. Xia Ya was a tough fighter; with the Emperor’s word, what was there to fear?

“More wine!” the Emperor bellowed. Servants quickly brought cups, but he glared and kicked one over: “Idiot! Bring a larger cup!”

The servant scrambled away. Soon, a large wooden cup was brought. The Emperor raised it and said loudly: “Xia Ya! Count your scars! Tell me the story behind each one! The better your tales, the more I shall drink! For every scar, a cup! Let’s see how many I can drink tonight!”

Though the court servants were anxious about the Emperor’s health, no one dared interrupt when he glared.

The Crown Prince Garcia left early that evening, seemingly unwilling to linger with Xia Ya.

Xia Ya hesitated briefly, then the Emperor sneered: “Fine man, no stammering! What are you afraid of?”

Spurred on, Xia Ya called out: “Who says I’m afraid? Very well! Listen!”

“This left shoulder scar is an arrow wound! On my first campaign, I was ambushed by Odin’s archers. I took one arrow, but on that hillside, I killed over ten Odin men! Not a loss, but a great gain!”

The Emperor roared approval, downing a full cup. “Good! I’ve heard of that battle—you cleaved an Odin prince with one blow! Well done!”

“These two on the right are from the Battle of Albacht Plains, a fierce canyon fight. I broke through the enemy’s rear, took two arrows—nearly died! But I killed an Odin priest in return. Not a bad trade!”

“Good!” The Emperor drank again, laughing: “A brave man avenges in time. Next time you meet your shooter, cut off his head!”

“This here is from the Hastings raid on my thirteen cavalry regiment’s camp. We fought all day. When the enemy attacked, I charged out to fight. In the chaos, an Odin cut two ounces of flesh from me. Hurt like hell, but I still came out ahead!”

“And here... hmm, this was left by an Odin beast warrior.”

“A knife wound! But I dodged fast and cleaved his head with an axe!”

“Hmm... this one’s from a fall... Not to hide anything, Your Majesty, this one wasn’t from the enemy but from early training—I didn’t know how to ride yet. Ha ha ha!”

Xia Ya pointed to each wound as he recounted them—some remembered clearly, others less so. The Lancer Emperor grew increasingly merry, drinking a cup for every scar’s tale.

After seven or eight stories, the Emperor was unsteady, and the servants, worried, began pouring smaller amounts. The Emperor didn’t notice, but still drank much.

Finally, he swayed, falling back in his chair, dropping his cup, panting, breath reeking of alcohol. His eyes fixed on Xia Ya: “Xia Ya, do you know any military songs? Sing me one!”

The feast had fallen silent, becoming a stage for the Emperor and Xia Ya. Both were intoxicated, surrounded by eager eyes. Xia Ya had no reservations now.

“Sing? I don’t know how,” Xia Ya thought, then remembered a statue he had seen at the military headquarters—the legendary founding hero of the empire, Duke Tulip Osgeilia.

His friends, Fat Rour and Green, revered this hero greatly. Xia Ya had privately asked about the Duke’s deeds.

He vaguely recalled a short poem the Duke had composed in youth to inspire troops.

In a moment of drunken impulse, Xia Ya climbed onto the Emperor’s platform, grabbed a candlestick as a hammer, beat the table as a drum, and sang loudly:

“If we do not fight,

Then the enemy will point at our bones and say,

‘Those are slaves!’”

The poem had more lines, but Xia Ya’s mind was clouded. Luckily, he finished just these two lines. Suddenly, the Emperor’s eyes blazed like fire! He slammed the table and stood tall!

The grand old man was filled with vigor, the usual sickness and weariness gone, like a roaring lion baring his fangs!

“Xia Ya!!!”

Xia Ya froze, dropping the candlestick, turning to face the Emperor.

The Emperor’s gaze burned like flames: “I’ve heard that in the Wildfire Plains battle, you shouted: ‘Kill the Odin! Kill the Odin! Kill more Odin!’ Is that true?”

“Yes!” Xia Ya answered proudly.

“Good!” The Emperor laughed wildly three times, then stared intently: “You’re appointed to Mor County, the empire’s frontier! I give you three years—if you kill thirty thousand Odin in that time, I will make you Earl! And if you bring me the head of Hastings’ leader one day, I shall make you Duke!”

Suddenly, the Emperor staggered, supporting himself on the table. Looking at the stunned nobles, the old Emperor’s voice carried both sorrow and grandeur:

“If I die before that day, then Xia Ya’s merits shall be recognized by my successor! Let the new Emperor bestow the dukedom! All of you here are witnesses!”

(To be continued)