Legend of the Divine Archer

A group of men huddled around a blacksmith's forge spoke in hushed tones, their faces grim. "You heard what happened, right? Yan Ming's body just... burst. Blood sorcery, they say. Whatever's haunting that family is no natural force.

They're doomed."

Another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a merchant who had dealings with the Yan Clan. "The patriarch's grip is slipping. If he can't even protect his own blood, how long before the clan crumbles entirely? People are already talking about abandoning their allegiances."

At a nearby tavern, patrons sipped their drinks and discussed the latest developments. "They say Yan Li was involved somehow," one man speculated, leaning in close to his tablemates. "Wouldn't surprise me if there's a power struggle brewing within the clan. Yan Bai and Yan Li at each other's throats... It's only a matter of time before it all falls apart."

"Serves them right," another replied with a sneer. "The Yan Clan has always been arrogant, thinking they're above everyone else. Now look at them—falling apart from the inside."

The fear that had once kept people silent about the Yan Clan's darker dealings was dissipating, replaced by a grim satisfaction at their misfortune. "They've brought this on themselves," a woman said confidently as she passed by a temple. "The gods are punishing them for their cruelty and greed."

Rumors of dark rituals, internal betrayals, and a festering curse on the Yan bloodline circulated like wildfire. The once-powerful Yan Clan was beginning to feel like a crumbling empire, and many believed that its end was near. Even those who had once served or respected them now saw the family's misfortunes as a sign that they were no longer invincible.

In quiet corners of Pine City, there were whispers of other clans beginning to eye the Yan Clan's territory. "This is the time to strike," one rival clan member whispered to another. "While they're weak, before they can recover."

Despite the Yan Clan's attempts to maintain their image of power, the people of Pine City no longer feared them as they once did. Instead, they pitied them—or worse, awaited their downfall with bated breath.

--

Yan Bai sat in a dimly lit private room, his sorrow palpable in the air. The room was cluttered with overturned furniture, shattered wine jugs, and remnants of a drunken frenzy. His usually sharp eyes were bloodshot, his body slumped in a corner, and his face flushed with the haze of alcohol.

In his hand, he clutched a small porcelain cup that trembled slightly, though whether from the drink or the storm of emotions inside him, he couldn't tell.

His mind was filled with the image of Yan Ming—his little uncle, though now he knew better. Yan Ming, his half-brother. The innocent boy who had worshipped him, who had looked up to him for guidance and love, was nothing more than a skinny, broken shell when he died.

His body had been distorted and torn apart in the most grotesque way possible, and Yan Bai had stood there, helpless, unable to do anything but watch. The anguish of that moment gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast.

And then, there was his father. Yan Li. The man who should have been a protector but instead had brought ruin upon them all. Yan Bai's mother, who had died under mysterious circumstances years ago, now seemed entangled in a web of lies and secrets that Yan Bai could no longer untangle.

The more he drank, the more he felt the weight of those secrets bearing down on him, filling him with resentment toward the man who had betrayed him and his family.

He took another gulp of wine, but it did little to dull the pain. He threw the cup against the wall in frustration, watching it shatter into pieces just like everything else in his life. He buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the world, but it was no use. Yan Ming's pleading eyes—those innocent, trusting eyes—haunted him.

The door creaked open, and through the haze of his drunkenness, Yan Bai saw the figure of his grandfather, the Yan patriarch, enter the room. The old man's face was as stern as ever, his eyes like steel. Even in his advanced age, the patriarch carried an air of power and control that made others shrink in his presence.

Yan Bai didn't move. He couldn't. His grief and resentment had left him paralyzed, and now, with the old man standing there, it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on him even more.

"Yan Bai," the patriarch's voice was deep and commanding. "This behavior is unbecoming of someone of your stature."

Yan Bai scoffed, but there was no real malice behind it. "I'm mourning the death of my half-brother… Can you blame me for feeling a little... emotional?" His words were slurred, but the bitterness in them was clear.

The patriarch's gaze didn't soften. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Yan Ming was a child born of a mistake. Your sorrow does you no credit. You were meant for greatness, but here you are, drowning yourself in drink like some commoner. This is not how a member of the Yan Clan behaves."

Yan Bai glared up at his grandfather, his lips curling into a sneer. "A mistake? Is that what he was to you? Just another... another tool to be discarded when it's no longer useful?"

The patriarch's expression darkened. "The clan comes above all else, Yan Bai. There are sacrifices we must make for its prosperity, and not all sacrifices are easy. Your father… I knew of his transgressions long ago, but by the time it came to light, it was too late to act. The clan's stability had to come first."

Yan Bai clenched his fists, shaking with rage. "So, you let him live, let him do what he wanted... even when it meant the death of my mother, and now Yan Ming?"

The patriarch let out a heavy sigh, a rare sign of weariness from the otherwise imposing figure. "Your mother's death… was regrettable. But I could not allow a scandal to erupt that would jeopardize the Yan Clan's standing. When you take the mantle of leadership, Yan Bai, you will understand that sometimes, personal desires must be set aside. The clan must endure."

He paced slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "Your father will be confined after the burial. The shame he has brought upon us cannot be tolerated any longer. His actions endangered the clan, and that cannot be forgiven. As for the third concubine… She will be dealt with quietly. She has caused enough damage."

Yan Bai's breath caught in his throat. He had expected this, but hearing it said so plainly brought a fresh wave of despair. "You're just going to… kill her? Dispose of her like she's nothing?"

The patriarch's gaze was unyielding. "She is nothing. She was a weakness that was allowed to fester for too long. And now that weakness is gone. You must not allow yourself to be drawn into sentimentality over trivial matters, Yan Bai. You are destined for more than this.

You are destined to lead this clan."

Yan Bai stared at his grandfather, feeling the weight of those words. He had been raised to believe in the supremacy of the clan, to put its needs above all else. But the cost... the cost felt too high. The patriarch, sensing his grandson's hesitation, leaned closer.

"Remember, Yan Bai," he said quietly but firmly, "the Yan Clan must come before anything else. Before family, before friends, even before yourself. You have greatness ahead of you. Do not squander it over the fleeting emotions of this mortal coil."

With that, the patriarch turned to leave, his presence still looming large even as he exited the room, leaving Yan Bai alone with his thoughts. The echoes of his grandfather's words hung in the air like a suffocating fog.

Shortly after the patriarch was gone, a young lady came out from back door "I warned you, but you didn't believe me. my life is already forfeited, I just want the chance the avenge my son. Whatever you do after is up to you." Said the third consort walking away too.

"I will setup a stage for you" Yan Bai replied watching the departing grieving lady. He absolutely would not inherit a clan this rotten, his plan was to cleanse the rotten parts, and it begun with his father.