Chapter 187: Killing Intent Was Everywhere

Alpha let out a faint sigh and looked up at the starry sky. A trace of gloomy aura flowed from his body. No one knew what he was thinking. After a long while, he habitually stroked his goatee, smiled slightly, and said unhurriedly, “Your Majesties, His Highness is young and competitive by nature. He will understand in the future that we did this for his own good. Just go ahead with the original plan without worry. Even if His Highness finds out and blames us, I will take full responsibility for you!”

Hearing Alpha’s assurance, Blackrock King felt his hesitation and worries lessen a bit. He gritted his teeth and said, “In that case, I will go and prepare!”

Thrace King was short and stout, with a head of curly brownish-yellow hair and a crown. His thick eyebrows slanted upward like broad knives hanging above his triangular furious eyes. He said hatefully, “Haha, excellent! This time, we must make King of Champoo taste the pain of losing his closest ones right before his eyes, leaving no trace of their remains!”

The old man with the goatee, Alpha, nodded in satisfaction, his eyes glinting sharply. He added, “With both of your majesties taking action personally, I feel much more at ease. I will send experts from the Imperial Knights’ Hall to assist you both in secret. This time, there must be no mistakes whatsoever.”

“Experts from the Knights’ Hall? That’s great!”

Both Blackrock King and Thrace King were overjoyed upon hearing this, and their confidence in the upcoming plan grew stronger. Although both were puzzled as to why the old man Alpha held such deep hatred for King of Champoo and was so determined to deal with Sun Fei, the saying ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ made them accept Alpha’s help without hesitation, feeling incredibly excited.

…

Looking at the dense pile of Windwolf corpses lying fifty meters away, everyone in the Soros Merchant Caravan, including Redknapp, was completely stunned. Their mouths hung open, almost reaching their ears, and they kept sucking in cold air, unable to believe what their eyes were seeing.

Nearly five hundred Windwolves had charged forward continuously like a tidal wave for ten minutes. Facing such an onslaught, if it were the forty-plus people of the Sorros Merchant Caravan—even though they had some skilled fighters among them and much more experience in wild magical beast encounters—they knew in their hearts that to defeat this pack of frenzied wolves, they would have to pay a bloody price, with at least half dead or injured being a real possibility… But now, what did they see?

They saw that golden-haired young man, who looked like a Moon Elf Prince, alone with a bow, unbelievably suppressing the terrifying Windwolf pack firmly outside the fifty-meter perimeter of the camp. Not a single vicious wolf could get within fifty meters of the young man. That boundary was like a line drawn by the God of Death with his scythe; no matter how ferocious the Windwolves were, once they crossed it, they would surely die.

Thump, thump, thump, thump…

The strangely rhythmic sound of bowstring vibrations still seemed to echo in their ears.

In the past ten minutes, every time that bowstring twanged, it meant a Windwolf would howl and be hit by an arrow—without a single exception.

What kind of unbelievable archery was this?

Even though Windwolves were only considered lower-tier magical beasts, their innate wind abilities allowed them to display their agility and speed to the fullest in the dark night. In such conditions, ordinary archers wouldn’t even be able to hit those vicious wolves—their eyes and arms probably couldn’t even track the Windwolves’ movements.

What shocked the Soros Merchant Caravan members even more was the speed and technique of the golden-haired young man’s shooting. It was incredibly fast; often, as soon as one arrow left the bowstring, another was already nocked. The arrows flew through the air one after another, forming a straight line of death.

Throughout the whole process, the massive mountain of a man, who had been standing with his arms crossed and a blade of grass in his mouth, did only one thing: he changed the quiver for the golden-haired young man ten times. Each quiver held a full hundred sharp arrows. That meant, in ten minutes, that elegant and handsome golden-haired young man, who resembled a Moon Elf Prince, had shot a total of one thousand arrows.

The charming red-clad woman Sherry and the white-robed swordsman beside her did not hide their shocked expressions.

Black-robed supervisor Redknapp’s heart was also tossed by towering waves like a raging sea. What stunned him wasn’t the young man’s archery skill; on the Azeroth Continent, there were many strong individuals with such archery. It was said that the archery of the strong among the Elf Race was even more astonishing, far surpassing Torres’s performance just now. What truly shocked Redknapp was Torres’s age, talent, and background. It was hard to believe that a young man under eighteen, born in a low-level small country like Shampoo City, from an ordinary poor family who had never received systematic archery training or guidance, could achieve such results at such a young age. Just how fearsome was his talent?

What Redknapp found most unbelievable was that he seemed to see a certain artistic conception emanating from the golden-haired young man on the moonlit rock—an artistic conception that even his eyes, which had witnessed countless mysterious events, could not comprehend. At a certain moment, that figure with his bow, the rock, and the moon seemed to merge perfectly with the vast night around them, making people unconsciously feel a dizzying, intoxicating sensation. It felt both far away and close at hand, mysterious and profound, indescribably wonderful, like the brilliant, ancient, and vast mystery of the stars in the sky.

“This young man is simply a peerless genius born for archery!”

Redknapp finally reached this conclusion.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but glance again at the distant king’s tent of King of Champoo. It was still dark and quiet inside. Redknapp could almost instantly imagine King of Champoo hugging his beautiful fiancée and soundly asleep… King of Champoo, how could he sleep so soundly!

“It seems I’ve been subconsciously focusing my attention on King of Champoo, neglecting some of the things around him… Shampoo City is becoming more and more interesting. Perhaps it might even make the Chief willing to initiate that plan for it!”

The members of the Soros Chamber of Commerce returned to their camp tents.

Outside the camp, the ground was piled with wolf corpses. Windwolves were magical beasts, so they naturally had magic crystals inside them. However, the magic crystals of such low-level beasts weren’t valuable. Besides, those vicious wolves were all killed by the golden-haired young man from Shampoo City; they hadn’t lifted a finger, so naturally, they wouldn’t collect the crystals.

Torres and Oleg jumped down from the giant rock and walked into the pile of wolf corpses.

Oleg pulled out the sharp arrows one by one from the Windwolves and placed them back into the quivers. At the same time, with a light flick of his small knife, he collected the fingernail-sized transparent magic crystals from the wolves’ heads into his pouch. The fat guy was a bit twisted, especially after that night at the top of the Blackrock Fortress tower when he received Sun Fei’s reward and was bestowed with the Cancer Star Attribute. Since then, he had developed a strong interest in dealing with corpses. He felt as if he could draw energy that made him stronger from the cold, gloomy bodies.

Although Fernando Torres’s fingers were bleeding from being cut by the bowstring, he still carefully examined every arrow wound on each wolf corpse, constantly recalling and summarizing the gains and losses from the battle.

His archery had originally only been considered top-tier among the [Zhebie] level divine archers in Shampoo City. But to single-handedly hold off over five hundred Windwolves with just a bow, as he did tonight, would have been absolutely impossible before. However, after Sun Fei unlocked his Sagittarius Star Attribute, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Combined with his diligent practice over the past few days, his archery had suddenly improved by leaps and bounds.

Tonight’s situation was actually set up by Sun Fei to test and train him. Sun Fei ordered Oleg to protect him nearby, only stepping in if it became critical. Sun Fei himself had actually switched to [Assassin Mode] and hidden in the shadows, ready to rescue Torres at a moment’s notice if danger arose. Unexpectedly, under immense pressure, Torres managed to grit his teeth and hold on. Though he used an average of two arrows to kill each Windwolf, he barely touched the edge of the artistic conception of a true archery master. He even faintly triggered a trace of Sagittarius Stellar Power, elevating his archery to a whole new level.

Seeing Torres achieve a breakthrough in his archery from the shadows, Sun Fei felt a moment of slight surprise followed by joy. This scene gave him another taste of the sense of accomplishment from ‘raising’ someone. With the danger gone, Sun Fei quietly slipped back into the king’s tent. No one in the entire camp noticed that Sun Fei had ever been there.

The next day, the team set off again.

Although the journey was calm on the surface, strange incidents began to occur one after another.

At noon that day, when they stopped to rest and camp, someone from the Soros Merchant Caravan discovered that the stream near the camp had been poisoned with a deadly toxin. If it hadn’t been for an unlucky Soros caravan guard who drank some water first and died miserably by the stream, alerting the others to the danger and allowing them to discover the poison in the water early, the Expeditionary Force and the Soros Merchant Caravan would have been in real trouble.

“Colorless and odorless, a terrifying poison. Someone deliberately poisoned the water here, and it wasn’t long ago, otherwise it would have been washed away by the stream. Clearly, someone calculated the timing; it’s targeted at us…” Redknapp, a four-star Mage, had some knowledge of potions. After careful observation and analysis, he reached this conclusion.

Sun Fei nodded.

He collected some of the poisoned water from the stream into a small bottle, planning to take it to the potion master Sister Acarra in the World of Diablo to study the composition of the toxin. If an antidote could be formulated, it might come in handy later.

In the evening, the Expeditionary Force and the Soros Merchant Caravan camped on a rocky hill.

As expected, the camp was once again harassed and attacked by a pack of magical beasts. Torres used his archery to repel them once again. This situation made Redknapp even more certain of his judgment, while Sun Fei continued to observe and ponder certain matters from the shadows.

On the third day.

As the team passed through a rather treacherous canyon, they suddenly and inexplicably encountered an unexpected rockslide. The cliffs on both sides collapsed, and large boulders came crashing down with a roar, creating an extremely dangerous situation.

“Accumulated Corpse Qi Shockwave—!!!”

The mountain-like enormous fat man erupted in fury. With a roar, an invisible high-frequency shockwave spread out, shattering many of the tumbling boulders. With the help of other Saints and the Urban Management team, the situation was stabilized. However, the Expeditionary Force finally suffered casualties; several soldiers had their legs broken while protecting the Princess Royal’s carriage. The Soros Merchant Caravan, following behind the Expeditionary Force into the canyon, was less affected but still had some injuries…

“I sense the residual elemental aura of earth magic ‘Earth’s Wrath’ in the air. This rockslide was definitely deliberately caused by someone…” Redknapp’s face was as dark as water as he relayed his judgment to Sun Fei.