Chapter 7

Ruge's expression was momentarily stunned, and he soon saw the other scouts and villagers gradually gathering around. The original plan to forcefully take the bow had to be abandoned. Thinking of how Rodi had made him lose face, he shouted angrily, "Just you, a little brat? Bring your bow to the shooting range, and we'll settle this with a dozen arrows. We'll see who deserves to use it. If you lose, get down on your knees and lick my shoes!"

Rodi did not speak, only slightly lifting his eyelids, showing no intention of acknowledging the other party. He bent down to pick up the arrows and walked away.

The village was not large, but as soon as there was a commotion, everyone rushed over. The scouting mission was not due to start for another hour, and in such a small village, any movement would spread throughout in less than ten minutes. When Rodi stood in the small square, which was called the "shooting range," Ruge, holding a piece of grass in his mouth and a horn bow in his hand, continued to taunt him with a mocking expression: "Get ready to lick my shoes, little brat."

He had every right to say such things. In the past, no one in Noland Village could match Ruge's archery skills. This competition, in his view, was merely a way for Rodi to delay time.

He spat out the grass, as if spitting at Rodi, and raised his horn bow with a disdainful look. The rules of the archery competition in Noland Village were simple: shoot a piece of linen the size of a human head on a straw stack from twenty-five yards away. Each person had ten arrows, and the winner was determined by the spread of the arrows.

Although Ruge's constant cursing made people extremely uncomfortable, as the scout captain, his skills were undeniably excellent. His movements were standard, and his breathing was steady. Ruge raised his hand and shot three consecutive arrows, all hitting the center of the linen!

The precision of his archery drew gasps of admiration from the surrounding farmers. However, the strength of the horn bow was too great, and from the fourth arrow onwards, the spread of the arrows gradually increased. By the seventh arrow, it was clear that Ruge's arm was trembling slightly, and his movements were beginning to deform.

After shooting twelve arrows, Ruge had two that missed the edge of the linen.

This was due to the high draw weight of the horn bow. Even Ruge, with his skills, could not maintain high precision throughout. However, the current performance was enough to make the soldiers feel inferior. The arrows were almost completely embedded in the linen, creating a dense and intimidating scene.

There were about thirty to forty villagers and soldiers watching, all in a state of shock. Many of them openly said that Rodi was in deep trouble and would likely have a hard time saving face. After all, in their eyes, Ruge was "unbeatable," and considering Rodi's past behavior in the village, no one believed he could outperform Ruge in archery.

The public opinion favored Ruge, making him stand up straighter. He glanced at Rodi and spat again, throwing the horn bow at him with disdain.

"Little brat, learn from this."

However, he never expected that the words Rodi said after taking the horn bow would almost make Ruge explode with anger—

"Huh... Do you think this is good archery?"

"...This is just the surface."

Ignoring Ruge's reaction, Rodi wrapped his fingers with thin leather, glanced at the target 25 yards away, adjusted his breathing, and slowly raised the horn bow.

At that moment, all the scouts frowned, and even the farmers who had gathered to watch began to whisper among themselves...

Rodi drew the bow to a half-moon shape but did not fully draw it. His posture seemed extremely casual, which to the scouts was completely incomprehensible—did he know he had no chance of winning, so he didn't even bother to aim?

To put it simply, the most important aspect of archery is "consistency." Every time the bow is drawn and released, all movements must be highly consistent to ensure accuracy. The position where the right hand holds the string and the point where the left hand pushes the bow must be precise, or the arrow will deviate. Therefore, "fixed movements" are the most basic common sense in archery.

But what about Rodi? He drew the bow to a half-moon shape, and without any support for his arm, he released the arrow. How could he ensure that the force of each draw was the same? How could he ensure that the aiming angle was consistent?

The farmers did not understand what this meant, but all the scouts felt he was simply fooling around.

However, the next moment, the continuous "thud—thud—" sounds drew everyone's attention to the target. At first, people only made a puzzled "huh" sound, but by the time Rodi had shot his first five arrows, the puzzled sounds had turned into uncontrollable exclamations of amazement!

"This..."

"How is this possible?!"

"Heavens—"

Sweat suddenly appeared on Ruge's forehead, and he felt a chill run down his spine. Even though he had considered countless possibilities, he never expected to see such a scene—always arrogant, he now stood with his mouth wide open, staring at the straw stack not far away...

At 25 yards, only one arrow was in the center of the linen... and every time Rodi raised his hand and released the arrow, the next arrow would hit the tail of the previous one, driving it deeper into the target!

The tail of the previous arrow was shattered and fell to the ground.

This phenomenon is commonly known as "chasing arrows." Ruge often encountered it during practice, and when the density of the arrows was too high, this would happen frequently. In a sense, it was also a testament to the precision of archery—but at this moment, everyone saw a shocking fact: except for the first arrow, all of Rodi's arrows were chasing arrows!

"Thud—"

"Thud—"

"Thud—"

...

As the chasing arrows continued, the audience's nerves became numb. They no longer considered whether the arrows would hit the linen but began to wonder: could all eleven arrows chase each other?!

"Thud—"

When the last arrow was shot, Rodi still had a calm expression, in stark contrast to Ruge's trembling arms after shooting a set of arrows.

At this point, the arrows in the center of the target had been split by the continuous chasing, leaving only fragments on the ground.

All twelve arrows hit the same point!

After a moment of suppressed silence, the crowd erupted in astonishment. They could not imagine that archery could reach such a level—this was something only the elven marksmen in the bards' tales could do!

In the noisy environment, perhaps only Carter and the two scouts who had participated in the battle the previous day were not overly surprised. They looked at Rodi with complex expressions, unsure whether they should approach him—

At this moment, Ruge realized his mistake.

His whole body was trembling, not just because he had lost the bet. His archery skills were not bad, so he could better understand what Rodi's performance meant...

The draw weight of the horn bow was extremely high, yet Rodi did not fully draw it and still achieved such accuracy. This meant that Rodi had never taken the competition seriously from the beginning—did he really just do this for the bow?

At this moment, recalling what he had said earlier, Ruge suddenly understood the meaning of Rodi's cold, indifferent gaze...

It was the kind of gaze one gives to a dead man.

"I—I..."

He wanted to say something but saw Rodi standing in front of him, lifting three fingers and pointing to his chest.

"You poked me three times."

Although the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, as if he were smiling, the coldness in his eyes made Ruge shiver—seeing the boot coming towards him, he immediately realized what this guy was going to do, but he was not particularly nervous.

Even in hand-to-hand combat, Ruge had never feared anyone.

However, just as he made a blocking motion, he found that Rodi's kick changed direction and hit his abdomen with great force!

"Bang!"

Ruge, who considered himself skilled in combat, flew backward and crashed to the ground after a half-second in the air. The villagers' chatter stopped abruptly, but this was just the beginning. Rodi's shadow appeared in front of Ruge, and he forcibly pulled him up from the ground, then punched him in the stomach!

Rodi then kneed Ruge in the stomach, and the once arrogant Ruge, without even a word, flew backward again, rolling on the ground and falling into a state of unconsciousness.

After doing all this, Rodi picked up the horn bow and walked away.

Not far away, Dick, who was holding three copper coins so tightly that they were sweating, swallowed hard. Seeing Ruge being dragged away by the scouts for treatment, he quickly ran over and stammered, "Rodi, you... you want anything else? I'll... I'll try to get it for you..."

Rodi looked ahead, his expression still fierce from the beating, but the next moment, he put on a gentle, smiling face and said, "Ah... if possible, I need a small file. It would be best if you have one."

Dick, drenched in cold sweat, agreed and left, feeling his legs weak.

In a place like Noland Village, the strongest person was someone like Ruge, an old soldier. Without mentioning the knights or the guards in Holier City, for the simple villagers and the soldiers who lived here, anyone who could take down Ruge in three moves without hesitation was someone to be feared.

Military punishment? Judicial trial? Who the hell cares about a small group of border scouts? Would the nobles in Holier City even bother with such trivial matters?

If you hit someone, you hit them. Just like how Ruge had bullied Rodi before, in such a place, the one with the bigger fists was the one who had the power. Rodi understood this and acted accordingly—while there was certainly a reason for Ruge's excessive taunting, the main reason was the plans forming in Rodi's mind.

The villagers gradually dispersed, and Rodi pulled out the arrows that had been shot to waste, feeling a bit regretful—right now, he was basically penniless. According to the memories of this "Rodi," he had some money stored in a dilapidated house in a nearby village, but combined with what he had left, it was only about thirty copper coins.

This money, if not for the fact that he still had a place to eat in the scout team, would probably only be enough to live in a town for a month.

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