Legend of the Divine Archer

The Golden Warriors, once seen as an impenetrable force, were now overwhelmed and understaffed. Their presence in the streets, once a reassuring sight, now served as a reminder of the grim reality that had befallen Pine City.

Murders continued to occur, the bodies of victims found drained of life, and with each new discovery, the hope and excitement that had once characterized the city faded further into despair. Even those who had come from afar for the tournament found themselves on edge, their usual competitive spirit dulled by the oppressive atmosphere.

Today, however, the city's focus was not on the tournament but on the funeral of Yan Ming, the youngest son of the patriarch of the Yan Family. His death had cast a long shadow over Pine City, and while the details of his demise remained shrouded in secrecy, it was enough to unite the populace in grief.

The streets were filled with a somber silence as a silent march wound its way through the city. Mourners, dressed in plain white robes, walked quietly in unison, heads bowed in prayer for Yan Ming's soul to find peace. Candles flickered in their hands, small flames struggling against the cold wind.

They whispered prayers as they moved, their voices soft but filled with emotion, hoping that their collective grief could somehow guide the young man's spirit to rest.

The procession ended in the heart of the Yan Family compound, at a grand hall reserved for occasions of mourning. The hall was vast, its walls lined with soft white tapestries that draped from ceiling to floor. In the center of the room lay Yan Ming's coffin, adorned with intricate carvings and surrounded by offerings of incense and flowers.

White candles were placed at every corner, their flames casting a gentle glow over the somber gathering. The scent of incense filled the air, thick and sweet, mingling with the soft sobs of mourners.

The aura of the hall was heavy, as if the grief of the entire city had settled into the very walls. The Yan family stood at the forefront, their faces pale and drawn, dressed in ceremonial mourning attire. Yan Li stood tall beside the coffin, his usually fierce demeanor softened by the weight of his loss.

His face was an impassive mask, though his eyes were red, betraying the sorrow he was trying to conceal.

Around the hall, every influential figure in Pine City had gathered to pay their respects. The heads of prominent clans, the wealthy merchants, the Golden Warriors, and even representatives from the far corners of the kingdom had come to offer their condolences. They lined the walls, heads bowed in reverence, their murmured condolences adding to the hushed atmosphere.

No one dared speak above a whisper, as though the air itself demanded silence.

After the first round of prayers had concluded, Yan Li stepped forward. His gaze swept over the crowd, pausing for a moment on each familiar face. His voice, when he spoke, was steady but laced with an undercurrent of pain.

"My brother, Yan Ming," Yan Li began, "was an extraordinary soul. Though he was the youngest among us, his heart burned with a brilliance that many could not match. He was destined for greatness, and yet…he was taken from us far too soon. He was the victim of mecreants, cowards who dared to harm him in the shadows."

Yan Li's words resonated through the hall, and the crowd murmured in sympathy. His tone was filled with conviction, laced with the controlled fury of a man who had lost not just a brother, but also a sense of control over his family's fate. He raised his voice slightly, his eyes hardening as he looked out over the gathered crowd.

"I swear on his soul," Yan Li continued, his voice ringing with determination, "that I will not rest until justice has been brought to him. As the leader of the elite in Pine City, I will ensure that those responsible are found and punished. I will bring peace to his soul and restore honor to our family. Let this tragedy be a reminder that none of us are safe from the treachery of the shadows."

The room grew still. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. There was a quiet intensity in Yan Li's words, a promise of retribution that sent a shiver down the spine of many present. Some nodded in agreement, others exchanged worried glances.

Yan Bai stood quietly at the edge of the room, his face a cold mask of indifference as he listened to his father speak. Inwardly, he marveled at Yan Li's hypocrisy, how easily he turned black into white with his words, weaving a narrative that painted himself as a grieving, righteous brother.

Yan Li had always possessed that talent—to twist truth into something palatable, even heroic, while hiding his true intentions beneath a veneer of honor and duty.

As Yan Bai watched, he discreetly made a subtle hand signal. The tension in the hall shifted as a disheveled figure pushed her way into the room—none other than the third consort of the Yan family, Yan Ming's mother. Her once regal bearing was gone, replaced by wild eyes and a grief-stricken face. Her hair was unkempt, her clothing askew as if she had been dragged from some desperate struggle.

Yan Li immediately snapped to attention, his voice sharp with alarm. "Who let her in?" he barked, the mask of calm cracking for a brief moment. "Restrain her, now!"

But no one moved. The room seemed frozen in place, and the guards hesitated, uncertain whether to act or stay put. The tension thickened as the third consort stood in the center of the hall, her eyes locked on Yan Li with a mixture of hatred and despair.

"You don't want me to say goodbye to our son?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You want to silence me just like you silenced him, don't you? After everything we've done together, you still think you can shut me up?"

Yan Li's face paled, his confident demeanor faltering as he took a step back. "You're grieving," he said quickly, trying to regain control. "You don't know what you're saying—"

But the third consort cut him off, her voice rising above his. "I know exactly what I'm saying!" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "I know what you are, Yan Li. And I know what you've done! You think you can stand here, pretending to mourn our son, while you hide the truth behind your lies? How dare you?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd as she continued, her words striking like a blade through the air. "Fourteen years ago!" she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Yan Li. "Fourteen years ago, you made a deal with the blood witches! You were jealous of Yan Bei Shang and Wei Mi, so you sold them out!

You gave the blood witches the location of the beast vein, and in return, they promised to kill them during the beast invasion!"

Whispers erupted from the crowd. Shocked faces turned toward Yan Li, who stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with disbelief. He tried to speak, but no words came out.

"You thought no one would find out," the third consort continued, her voice steady now, filled with bitter resolve. "But I knew. I've always known. You were responsible for the deaths of countless people during that invasion. You destroyed families. You betrayed the clan for your own ambition!

And now...now you have the gall to stand here and claim to seek justice for our son? You! The very man who caused this tragedy in the first place?"

Yan Li finally found his voice, but it wavered with desperation. "Stop this!" he commanded, but his voice held no power. The authority he once wielded so easily was slipping away. "This woman is delusional—grief has clouded her mind! She doesn't know what she's saying!"

But the crowd was no longer listening to him. All eyes were on the third consort as she pressed forward, determined to expose the truth.

"You're the one who's delusional, Yan Li!" she shouted. "All of this—every death, every loss that we've suffered—it's all because of you! And you know it. You can't hide it anymore. Your greed, your jealousy, your betrayal...it's led us to this."

She turned to the crowd, her voice softer now but still cutting. "He's done worse. He's committed atrocities, not just against our family but against the citizens of Pine City. He's the real danger. He's the one who should be locked away."

Yan Li's face contorted with fury and desperation. "Enough!" he bellowed.

As the tension in the hall reached its breaking point, the third consort stepped forward, her face twisted in a grotesque mix of grief and madness. Her eyes locked onto Yan Li with a chilling intensity, and without a word, she reached for her robe.