Chapter 38: Life-or-Death Snipe

Chapter 38: Life-or-Death Snipe

The atmosphere grew heavy, the air itself seeming to thicken with tension.

Rainwater streamed endlessly into Chen Shouyi’s eyes, stinging like grains of sand, yet he dared not blink even once.

He held the strong bow drawn, aiming for what felt like an eternity, but he never loosed the arrow.

The canoe was still about 150 meters away. At such a distance, factors like gravity and the turbulent air demanded precise calculations—especially in this heavy downpour, which severely disrupted his aim. He had no confidence in making the shot.

Even during regular training, he had never attempted a shot this far.

After a moment of deliberation, he decided to abandon the attempt.

Just as Chen Shouyi relaxed the bowstring, the tall barbarian suddenly moved.

With terrifying speed, the barbarian pulled a short spear—roughly a meter long and as thick as a child’s arm—from his back and hurled it at him with brutal force.

A small dot rapidly expanded in Chen Shouyi’s vision, shrieking through the air like a rocket. Fortunately, unlike last time, he wasn’t caught off guard. Instinctively, he sidestepped to the left, narrowly avoiding the projectile.

The short spear slammed into the sandy beach with enough force to blast a small crater, sending a spray of fine sand flying in all directions. The stinging impact against his face made him grimace.

Chen Shouyi’s expression darkened.

This barbarian’s strength was monstrous—at least twice, maybe even three times his own.

His heart pounded violently as he retreated swiftly, scanning his surroundings for cover out of the corner of his eye.

Running wasn’t an option. If he fled now, death would come even faster.

With that monstrous barbarian hurling short spears at him intermittently, he couldn’t possibly sprint back to the passageway without distraction.

Soon, he spotted a rock nearby.

He quickened his pace and crouched behind it in a flash.

The rock stood about a meter tall and roughly 1.5 meters long, its surface smooth and hardened from years of tidal erosion. Though not large, it provided enough cover.

The moment he ducked down, a deafening explosion rang out, shaking the rock slightly. Wooden splinters rained down on him, dusting his hair.

He peeked out briefly before pressing his back against the rock, breathing heavily.

Tension, anxiety, fear—yet beneath it all, a thrill akin to walking a tightrope over a bottomless chasm.

Chen Shouyi suddenly felt the urge to piss.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

"How did things turn out like this?"

Just a minute ago, his life had been so peaceful—so peaceful that he’d foolishly believed it would stay that way forever.

But everything had changed. Now, his survival hung by a thread.

If not for the overwhelming reality of it all, he might’ve thought this was just a nightmare—a horrifying, inescapable nightmare.

One hand gripping the strong bow, the other clutching an arrow, he leaned his head against the rock and closed his eyes, letting the rain pour over him.

Time seemed to crawl, each second stretching into an eternity for Chen Shouyi.

And yet, a small part of him wished this moment would last forever—if only to delay the inevitable.

Then, abruptly, the attacks stopped. He couldn’t tell how long it had been since he last heard the piercing shriek of a spear cutting through the air.

Eyes still shut, he listened intently for any sound outside, straining to catch even the faintest clue.

But the relentless roar of the storm drowned out everything else. He heard nothing useful.

Until, after more than ten seconds, a faint splash reached his ears.

Immediately after, he heard a second, then a third... six in total.

Six barbarians had already jumped out of their canoes.

His breathing grew rapid, and he swiftly shifted from sitting to a half-crouch.

He didn’t recklessly peek out to observe, nor did he attack immediately.

The distance was simply too great—he had no confidence in hitting his mark.

Chen Shouyi silently counted numbers in his mind, but halfway through, his thoughts blurred, and he forgot the previous number.

"Damn it, calm the hell down!"

Chen Shouyi slapped himself hard across the face, leaving a red mark that quickly bloomed on his skin.

The sharp pain jolted his focus back, and he immediately started counting again.

He reached twenty.

Taking a few deep breaths, he swiftly nocked an arrow and drew his strong bow, rising from behind the rock. At a glance, he saw the tall barbarian still wading through waist-deep seawater with powerful strides.

In fact, this towering, muscular barbarian had been watching the spot intently, ready to attack the moment Chen Shouyi revealed himself.

Their eyes locked in an instant.

In that split second, Chen Shouyi released the bowstring, while the barbarian hurled his spear.

Their reactions seemed evenly matched, but in reality, one had been fully prepared, needing only to loose the arrow, while the other had to react hastily upon spotting his target.

One was a simple, instantaneous release; the other required at least three long-range movements. Chen Shouyi was a full beat slower.

The distance between them was roughly sixty meters—a mere blink of an eye.

Chen Shouyi didn’t wait to see the result. He barely had time to duck his head instinctively before the short spear slammed heavily into the rock.

Without checking the outcome, he swiftly nocked another arrow and drew the bowstring. After counting one second, he stood again and fired another shot.

Then he ducked back behind the rock.

This time, six short spears came flying back—the other five barbarians had also launched their attacks. For a moment, the spears rained down like hail, one nearly piercing the top of his extended foot.

He hastily curled his body tighter.

What made Chen Shouyi’s heart sink was that despite firing two arrows in succession, the tall barbarian remained unharmed. Perhaps he had dodged them, or perhaps he had deflected them—but either way, it was bad news.

Time was running out.

His anxiety grew.

Once they crossed the sea, he’d have to engage them in close combat with his sword.

But facing six barbarians, especially that formidable one, even with all his confidence, he didn’t dare believe he could win. That terrifying physical prowess alone could crush him.

And the last two canoes were almost ashore.

"I have to change tactics!"

His mind raced. Making his decision, he abruptly leaned out again and fired another arrow.

A short, muffled grunt.

Then, a furious roar reached his ears.

"Finally, one down!"

But he felt no joy. The one he’d just shot wasn’t the towering barbarian. Two consecutive failures had forced him to adjust—first eliminate the weaker ones, then deal with the strongest.

As soon as the barbarians’ counterattack subsided, he leaned out again and fired another arrow.

Another grunt followed.

...

Apart from that strong and tall barbarian, the rest were noticeably weaker.

Except for one barbarian who dodged an arrow, wasting another arrow, there were no further mishaps. After six consecutive arrows, the last remaining powerful barbarian on the second canoe was now consumed by rage, his face twisted in fury.

The veins on his neck bulged like writhing earthworms, his muscles swelling as he desperately drove his legs forward. His terrifying strength sent seawater crashing in thunderous waves around him.

Eventually, he even began running through the water, his speed increasing rapidly.

Chen Shouyi remained motionless for a long time, crouching behind the rock, listening intently.

At the true moment of life and death, his previous anxiety and fear strangely vanished, replaced by utter calm. His breathing steadied, and his gaze sharpened.

The sound of splashing water grew louder, its rhythm shifting from slow to swift, until it matched the pace of an ordinary man’s sprint.

He could even faintly hear the barbarian’s labored, ox-like panting.

Chen Shouyi closed his eyes briefly, then suddenly snapped them open. In the next instant, he moved like the wind, rising swiftly.

Without even taking a proper aim, he released the bowstring, firing an arrow purely by instinct.

At a mere 20 meters, the speed of the 500-pound strong bow made the distance negligible.

The charging barbarian barely had time to shift slightly before an arrow pierced his chest. His eyes widened in disbelief as his trembling hands reached up, as if to pull the arrow out.

But in the next moment, another arrow instantly pierced his skull.

His body swayed, then the impossibly strong figure collapsed heavily.

...

By now, the other two canoes had just reached the shore. One of the barbarians was about to leap into the water when he froze as if struck by lightning— "The Tribe Chief! The Tribe Chief is dead!"