"Remember this," Shen Daolun said rapidly, his voice tight. "The Archer Chieftain is terrifying—but only while it still has arrows. Once its flaming bone arrows are spent, it's a toothless tiger. Lure it into firing everything. The instant its quiver is empty—cut it down."
He drew a line across his throat with two fingers.
Lin lan slid his thumb along the smooth edge of the Blood-Slaughter Bone Blade. The crimson sheen reflected faintly in his eye sockets.
"I get it."
Shen Daolun didn't relax. "Easy to say. Hard to do. You've seen its strength. As long as it has even one arrow left, you're gambling your life. One hit and you're done. Worse—once the arrows are gone, they regenerate. One per minute."
Lin lan stopped retreating.
"That means," Shen continued grimly, "you have less than a minute to kill it. Miss that window, and it fires point-blank. No armor will save you."
Lin lan tightened his grip.
"No choice," he said. "I'm already cornered."
He turned—and charged back toward the Archer Chieftain.
Shen Daolun watched him go, the familiar crooked smile still on his face, but his eyes dark with worry. This was a wager against fate itself. Losing would be normal. Winning would be absurd.
The Archer Chieftain froze for a split second.
It couldn't understand why this lowly skeleton had suddenly reversed course. Confusion flickered—then delight.
Good.
Let it come closer.
It shrieked, bone bow blazing, and unleashed another volley of flaming arrows.
Lin lan emptied his mind.
No fear. No hesitation.
Only trajectories.
Whoosh—
An arrow skimmed past his shoulder and detonated behind him, blasting a crater into the ground.
Before he could breathe, another screamed down from above.
Lin lan planted both hands, flipped, and twisted mid-air. The arrow struck where he'd been a heartbeat earlier, fire roaring upward.
His soul flame burned steadily as numbers ticked through his mind.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
His movements grew tighter. Cleaner. Each dodge shaved away space and time.
Nine… ten…
The distance closed.
Twelve… thirteen…
The Archer Chieftain's attacks grew sharper—angrier.
Fifteen.
Lin lan's spine screamed. Cracks spread through bone, but he didn't slow.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
The Archer Chieftain drew again.
Only one left.
Lin lan felt it—the shift in pressure, the tightening of killing intent.
Ten meters.
Too close.
One mistake and he was finished.
The final arrow loosed.
Lin lan twisted hard, pushing sideways with everything he had—
Too slow.
The flaming bone arrow smashed into his chest.
The world exploded.
He flew backward more than twenty meters, crashing into the ground in a spray of shattered stone.
The Archer Chieftain let out a low, satisfied laugh.
Authority restored.
Shen Daolun's heart dropped. He stared at Lin lan's still form, afraid to move, afraid to hope.
Then—
Lin lan pushed himself up.
Half the Spirit Witch Armor was shattered. Several ribs were broken clean through.
But he was standing.
Shen Daolun exhaled shakily. Without that armor, Lin lan wouldn't have had ribs left to break.
Lin lan didn't pause.
He ran.
The Archer Chieftain's quiver was empty.
Sixty seconds.
That was all he had.
Death energy surged into the Blood-Slaughter Bone Blade, crimson aura boiling outward as Lin lan closed the last stretch of distance.
He raised the blade—
And the Archer Chieftain retreated.
Lin lan's heart jolted.
"Don't you dare—!"
He lunged, boots screaming against the ground, but his strike cut through empty air.
The Archer Chieftain withdrew ten paces.
That was enough.
A new arrow condensed.
Dark. Dense. Burning.
The bow came up.
Shen Daolun's face drained of color. There was no time left. No space to dodge.
The arrow fired.
Lin lan threw himself backward—but his damaged spine slowed him by a fraction.
Too slow.
The flames kissed his skull.
In that instant, death was closer than it had ever been.
No.
Images surged through him—his past life, the warmth of being human, Liang Wan's face.
I'm not dying here.
Not like this.
The deep white soul flame in his eyes flared violently.
Lin lan roared.
And swung the blade—
At himself.
Crack.
The Blood-Slaughter Bone Blade cleaved clean through his waist.
His body split apart.
Gravity took him.
The flaming arrow tore past where his skull had been, scorching bone black as it missed by inches.
The Archer Chieftain froze.
It had never seen anything like this.
Never imagined a skeleton would sever itself to survive.
Before it could react—
Lin lan's upper body slammed into the ground.
His left arm struck, twisting his torso forward.
His right arm followed through.
The blade screamed.
Crimson light erupted.
BOOM.
The Archer Chieftain's howl was cut short as its body exploded into fragments. Bones scattered. Pale-crimson soul flames drifted upward, trembling.
Silence fell over Archer Hill.
Shen Daolun stood frozen, mouth hanging open, cheeks twitching.
A deep-white soul flame had just slain an Archer Chieftain.
Two ranks above it.
Impossible.
After a long moment, Shen Daolun finally exhaled.
"…Ruthless," he muttered. "Absolutely ruthless."
He stared at Lin lan's broken form, awe creeping into his voice.
"I really underestimated that brat."