Legend of the Divine Archer

They rained down on him like a relentless storm. Some exploded on impact, rocking his shield and sending shockwaves through his body, while others seemed to pierce straight through the gaps in his defenses, forcing him to expend more energy than he could afford.

Each arrow was a calculated strike, forcing Yan Li to guard himself from every angle, never allowing him a moment of reprieve. He gritted his teeth, growling in frustration. He couldn't tell which arrows carried explosives and which were mere distractions. Every shot demanded his full attention, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of the others.

Wei Xi, Meng Xiao, and Yan Bai took full advantage of this. The relentless barrage from Yan Jin gave them the breathing room they desperately needed. They used the precious moments to catch their breath, steadying their minds and bodies before re-engaging the fight.

They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. The three of them moved in unison, surrounding Yan Li in a triangular formation. Wei Xi, with his spear at the ready, circled to the right, his eyes locked on Yan Li's every movement. Meng Xiao shifted to the left, her eagle-like claws flexing in anticipation.

Yan Bai held his spear steady, his face set with grim determination as he moved in closer.

Yan Jin, hidden in the darkness, continued his assault from afar. His arrows were precise, deadly, and unpredictable, striking at Yan Li's defenses from multiple angles. Every time Yan Li tried to focus on one of his close-range opponents, an arrow would slam into his shield, diverting his attention once more.

Yan Li was caught in a deadly dance—trapped between the close-quarters assaults of the three warriors and the long-range bombardment of Yan Jin's arrows. He could feel the pressure mounting, his shield flickering and weakening with each blow. His corrupted dragon energy surged, but it wasn't enough to fully repel the coordinated assault.

Wei Xi lunged forward, his spear aimed directly at Yan Li's exposed side. Yan Li barely managed to deflect the attack with a swipe of his hand, but before he could counter, Meng Xiao was upon him, her claws slashing through the air with lightning speed.

Yan Li twisted away, the claws narrowly missing his throat, but her follow-up strike caught him across the chest, tearing through his already tattered robes and drawing blood.

Yan Bai, seeing an opening, thrust his spear forward with all his might. The tip of the spear glinted in the moonlight as it hurtled toward Yan Li's heart. At the last moment, Yan Li managed to shift his body, the spear grazing his ribs instead of piercing through.

He howled in pain, his blood splattering the ground beneath him, but the corrupted energy within him kept him standing, even as his body was pushed to its limits.

Yan Jin's arrows never ceased, each one strategically aimed to keep Yan Li off balance. One arrow struck the ground just behind Yan Li's foot, causing an explosion that forced him to stumble forward—directly into the path of Meng Xiao's claws. She slashed at him again, this time catching him across the face, leaving a deep gash that oozed with dark, corrupted blood.

Yan Li's rage boiled over. He let out a furious roar, unleashing a burst of blood magic that sent a shockwave outward, momentarily pushing his attackers back. But they regrouped quickly, their formation tightening once more.

Yan Li's vision blurred, his breathing ragged. His corrupted dragon energy pulsed erratically, struggling to maintain its form. He could feel the bloodlust gnawing at the edges of his mind, threatening to consume him entirely. But even as his body faltered, his spirit remained unbroken. He refused to fall to these whelps.

With a snarl, Yan Li surged forward, his claws lashing out with desperate ferocity. He targeted Wei Xi first, sensing the boy's inexperience, hoping to eliminate the weakest link. But Wei Xi, despite his trembling limbs, held firm. He parried Yan Li's strike with his spear, the force of the impact jarring his entire body, but he didn't back down.

Yan Bai and Meng Xiao closed in from either side, their strikes coordinated and precise. Yan Li was forced to split his attention, his movements growing more frantic as he tried to fend off all three of them at once. His claws clashed with spears, his bloodied fists deflected blows, but with every exchange, he grew weaker.

Yan Jin remained in the shadows, his eyes focused and unyielding. He drew back his bowstring, another arrow nocked and ready. His muscles burned from the exertion, but he pushed through the pain. He knew that every shot counted, every arrow had to find its mark. He could feel the rhythm of the battle, the ebb and flow of energy between his comrades and their foe.

He let the arrow fly.

This time, it wasn't aimed at Yan Li's shield—it was aimed at the ground beneath his feet. The arrow struck with precision, detonating with a force that sent debris flying into the air. Yan Li lost his footing for a split second, and in that moment, Meng Xiao and Yan Bai attacked in perfect harmony, their weapons striking in unison.

Yan Li's shield flickered, the corrupted dragon energy barely holding on. He bared his teeth, blood dripping from his wounds, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But he refused to fall.

His eyes, now glowing with blood-red malice, locked onto Yan Jin's silhouette in the distance. "You think this will stop me?" he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll devour every last one of you."

But Yan Jin remained unfazed, his expression calm and focused. He nocked another arrow, drawing the string back slowly, his senses tuned to every movement on the battlefield. He could feel the tension in the air, the life-or-death struggle that hung in the balance.

This battle was far from over.

At Yan Jin's command, the trio sprang into action with the precision and desperation of warriors putting their lives on the line. Wei Xi was the first to move, his spear spinning in his hands as he lunged forward with a burst of speed. His innocence had long faded in the heat of battle, replaced by the raw determination of a fighter who knew this was their moment to strike.

He drove his spear downward with a forceful thrust, aiming for Yan Li's legs to immobilize him. The corrupted man snarled, twisting his body, but Wei Xi was relentless, his spear finding purchase and pinning Yan Li's leg to the ground.

Meng Xiao, quick as lightning, followed suit. She darted around Yan Li's side, her fingers extending into deadly claws. With precision, she struck at Yan Li's shoulders, her claws piercing his flesh and sinking deep. Her grip was vice-like, holding him in place as she used her full strength to keep him down.

Blood splattered from the wounds, and Yan Li howled in fury, his corrupted energy flaring around him, but Meng Xiao's resolve did not falter.

Yan Bai completed the pincer, his silver spear glowing in the moonlight as he rammed the blunt end of it into Yan Li's spine, forcing him further onto his knees. Yan Li's body shook under the combined force of their assault, his roars of defiance filled with rage and desperation, but the coordinated attacks pinned him down, locking him in place as his body struggled to break free.

Breathing heavily, Yan Jin stood a few paces back. He felt the flow of energy between his comrades, each movement resonating through him like a carefully orchestrated dance. He knew this was his moment.

He planted his bow into the ground with deliberate care, driving it deep into the earth. the currents of the battle coursed through him like an electric pulse. He bent his leg at an impossible angle, drawing the bowstring back with the help of his foot. The tension in the string grew immense, humming with the deadly energy concentrated between the bow and the javelin now hooked in place.

The air around Yan Jin grew cold, a freezing aura emanating from his very being, coating the ground beneath him in frost. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, an almost tangible weight settling over the battlefield. As he pulled the javelin back to its maximum tension, the energy around him shifted, growing darker, sharper, deadlier.

An unnatural cold flame ignited along the length of the javelin, the freezing fire licking the edges of the weapon, dancing dangerously as if feeding on the very air itself. The flame wasn't ordinary—it carried an aura of ancient malevolence, the will of something far older and far more sinister than any magic they had encountered before.

The energy concentrated at the tip of the javelin, growing denser and denser until it seemed ready to explode.

Yan Jin's breath steadied, his focus locked in, timing every second with precision. He waited for the perfect moment, feeling the tension of the fight, the strained effort of his comrades holding Yan Li in place, the buildup of energy within him as his entire being aligned with the shot.

Then, with a swift and practiced motion, he let go.