Chapter Seventy-One: Arrows! Arrows Everywhere!

The Odin warriors rushing from afar abruptly halted, brandishing their swords and shouting at Shaya from a distance. But at that very moment, a fierce wind roared beside him—a massive axe came crashing down. Shaya had no choice but to raise his fire fork horizontally to parry the blow.

Clang!

With a metallic ring, the axe snapped in two. Shaya felt as if he had been struck by lightning; his arm nearly refused to move. Looking up, he saw a Bear Soul warrior standing at his side, holding half of the shattered axe.

(What immense strength!)

Clutching the priest, Shaya retreated swiftly, roaring at the priest in fury, "Order these monsters to stand down!" As he spoke, he drove the fire fork viciously into the priest’s thigh, leaving another bloody hole.

At last, the old priest screamed, shouting commands in the Odin tongue. The Beast Soul warriors seemed to hear the order; they all froze, each fixing their green-flamed gaze on Shaya, snorting heavily through their mouths and noses.

Shaya seized the priest by the throat, retreating quickly to the side of Sharba and Kato, paying no attention to the shouts of the distant Odin warriors—he could not understand their curses and threats anyway. He raised the fire fork and cut the sinews binding his two companions. They leapt up, scrambling to Shaya’s side. Shaya hacked a branch from a tree, handed the priest to Sharba, and thrust the branch into the green-flamed bonfire. Instantly, one end caught with emerald flames, becoming a torch of ghostly green.

Brandishing this torch, Shaya waved it at the surrounding Beast Soul warriors. Clearly, they were deeply afraid of the green fire, stumbling back a few steps. Shaya and his two companions quickly retreated into the woods. As they fell back, facing off against the Odin men, it was obvious how much the Odin warriors valued their priest—his safety kept them at bay, their shouts laced with anxiety.

Soon, Shaya and his companions emerged from the woods to the edge of a slope, behind which rose a steep, four or five meter-high embankment.

"Jump! Now!" Shaya shouted to Sharba. Sharba and Kato exchanged a glance, seized the priest, and rolled down the slope. The height was not too great nor the incline too steep; as they landed, Shaya leapt after them, earth clinging to his clothes. The Odin warriors reached the top of the slope, bellowing as they watched Shaya’s group escape.

Only then did Shaya see clearly: another slope faced them, and between the two slopes, the low, flat ground—only a few hundred meters wide—had become a battlefield! The earth was strewn with corpses, dead horses and reindeer left by fallen cavalry, shattered weapons and armor littering the field.

Some Odin warriors were still clearing the field. When they saw Shaya’s group, they rushed from all directions to encircle them. Shaya forced the priest to shout again, and, just as before, the Odin men shrank back, not daring to close in.

Looking south, Shaya saw the valley’s exit was just over a hundred meters away. The three of them dragged the priest and ran for their lives. The Odin warriors gave chase, but Shaya kept the fire fork at the priest’s body, stabbing him from time to time and making their pursuers hesitate.

The Beast Soul warriors led the pursuit. Shaya still held the green torch, but the branch was burning down rapidly, the torch growing ever shorter.

At that moment, on the slope, Kekelan watched Shaya and his companions with a darkened expression. He had already received reports from below.

"Fools! How could you let a lurking Byzantine seize the priest?" Kekelan’s face, usually so gentle and soft, twisted with rage—anger even fiercer than when he’d learned of his brother’s death. An Odin warrior said something to him, pointing toward the distant Shaya. Kekelan’s eyes flashed.

"Oh? So that's the Byzantine warrior who killed my brother? Ha... interesting..." Instantly, his anger faded. Narrowing his eyes at Shaya, who was retreating into the distance, he suddenly laughed. Turning, he took from behind his beast-bone throne a massive half-man-tall longbow.

The bow was bleached white, the material unknown, but each tip was set with a milky, fist-sized gem. Kekelan drew the bowstring—without an arrow—aiming at the distant Shaya.

"If the priest cannot be saved, then let him die. Better to die here than be taken by the Byzantines." His tone was calm, lips curled in a cold smile. "And the murderer who killed my brother—I must kill him myself, else how will I answer to my beloved father?"

Vmmm!

As Shaya retreated, he suddenly heard a strange buzzing sound. Looking up, he saw a silver glint ahead to his left, hurtling toward him and growing rapidly in size—a sphere of light. In an instant, a chilling sense of danger enveloped him, the light radiating a crisis that made his heart sink in dread. With a wild shout, he flung his fire fork to block the incoming brilliance.

Bang!

Shaya was thrown backward, crashing to the ground. His right arm, gripping the fire fork, split open with several bloody cracks, blood spurting out; even several fingers were broken.

(So strong! So powerful!)

Despair washed over Shaya. Just one arrow, shot from afar, had so easily shattered his dragon-blood-forged body? Fortunately, the fire fork remained unscathed.

Kato rushed over to help him up, but Shaya pushed him away, bellowing, "Run! Run!"

He seized Kato and hurled him southward.

"Hmm, to block my arrow... No wonder he killed my brother. He must be at least a mid-level Byzantine warrior," Kekelan’s pale face grew more sinister as his fingers nocked the bowstring again.

Vmmm!

The buzzing returned. This time, the silver light did not aim for Shaya. The priest, held by Sharba, had his head shattered by the beam of silver—obliterated in an explosion of blood and bone. The silver light not only destroyed the priest, but also blasted Sharba’s shoulder into a mass of bloody flesh.

Even Sharba, tough as he was, could not withstand such a blow; with a grunt, he toppled backward. Shaya lunged to grab Sharba, slinging him over his back, then turned and raced for the mouth of the valley, every stride carrying him several meters.

With the priest dead, the Odin warriors behind had nothing left to fear—especially the Beast Soul warriors, who let out furious howls and charged after them.

Kato had already reached the mouth of the valley. Seeing Shaya lag behind, he turned as if to help, but Shaya screamed frantically, "Don’t wait for me! Run! Run, damn you!"

At that moment, the third arrow sang out.

Vmmm!

The sound came from afar. Shaya gritted his teeth, determination flashing in his eyes. Carrying Sharba, he could not let the man be shot. He spun, squared his chest, and with all his strength, swung the fire fork to meet the incoming silver beam.

But injured as he was, the fire fork failed to block the light this time.

Bang! The silver radiance struck Shaya’s chest directly. His outer robe turned to powder, his armor beneath shattered instantly. With a crisp snap, a sound that echoed with utter despair in Shaya’s heart, the dragon scales were pierced.

A wave of icy cold shot through the scales into his chest. With a thunderous crash, Shaya’s vision went black as he was hurled backward, flying over ten meters. Blood, black as pitch, spewed from his lips, congealing into ice the moment it touched the air.

As Shaya hit the ground, Sharba cried out in pain, several bones breaking. The dragon scales on Shaya’s chest split in two.

The wound on his chest gaped to the bone, but the wound had already frozen into a crystalline sheet of ice, blood not flowing but transformed into scarlet frost.

Shaya spat out a mouthful of black blood, but his mind cleared in an instant. Seeing the Odin warriors rushing toward him, he realized he had landed right at the mouth of the valley.

Kato grabbed Shaya’s arm and hauled him to his feet, the three of them stumbling and staggering as they fled out of the valley.

※※※

...

Kekelan’s face was unnaturally calm. Watching Shaya escape the valley, his fingers still rested on the bowstring. At the last moment, a strange look flickered through his eyes. He finally released the string and set the unusual bow back on its bone throne.

A bizarre smile appeared on the effeminate Odin noble’s face.

"Hmm... To take an arrow to the chest and still run. This one is truly interesting..." He looked up coldly at those beside him. "Pass the order: no need to pursue them out of the valley."

Ignoring the odd looks from his men, Kekelan sat on the bone throne, one hand propping his head as he closed his eyes in thought.

(To take two of my arrows and live—he is a true warrior. A true warrior should not die in disgrace... No, a warrior deserves an end befitting his stature. Byzantine, let me slay you with my own hands on the battlefield.)