Chapter 21: Exceptional Archery Skills

“Center!”

Outside the military camp, Zhao Ji released the bowstring, his gaze fixed solely on the target.

The surroundings blurred, but the target stood out with crystal clarity. At this moment, he was intensely focused, able to discern the arrow’s slight oscillations and its swift trajectory as it surged toward the target.

At a distance of a hundred paces, the arrow embedded itself in the target, leaving only the white fletching of the tail visible.

“Didn’t expect Aji to be such a marksman, rivaling even the famed archers!”

Beside him, Pei Xiu murmured in admiration as Zhao Ji retrieved another arrow and took five steps back.

Zhao Ji had started shooting from seventy paces, retreating five steps each time, seemingly familiarizing himself with his technique.

In any army, sharpshooters were few and invaluable, each deserving special protection.

Finally, standing at one hundred and twenty-five paces, Zhao Ji’s arrow grazed the waist of the human-shaped target.

One hundred and twenty-five paces—nearly one hundred and eighty meters.

Zhao Ji relied on instinct to shoot at such a distance; hitting near the target already held practical significance.

But at this range, unless striking a vital point or penetrating armor, the most it could cause was a minor wound.

In actual combat, its deterrent effect was even greater.

After repeated trials, Zhao Ji was convinced that the “Clearing Thickets” skill amplified his damage with bows, short spears, and stones, and helped correct his posture.

However, it did not enhance the power or range of heavy crossbows but did help refine his shooting technique.

Stopping at one hundred and twenty-five paces, Zhao Ji drew four more arrows in succession, releasing them with skillful precision.

Out of five arrows, three missed the mark, while two struck the target.

Considering the arrow’s speed, the distance, and the target’s movement, hitting a moving target this far was largely a matter of luck.

As the saying goes, “It’s better to catch than to shoot well.”

As Zhao Ji shook out his aching arms, Wei Gu shouted loudly, “Aji, five paces further!”

Pei Xiu urged caution, “Brother Zhongjian, Aji needs to conserve his strength.”

“Think again, Qi Lang. If Aji can hit the target at one hundred and fifty paces… that would be extraordinary and boost the army’s morale!”

Wei Gu was full of ambition. Having a sharpshooter capable of shooting at one hundred and fifty paces under his command would be strategically invaluable!

Pei Xiu warned again, “Brother Zhongjian, Aji is using a common strong bow. If he goes further, the bow limbs might snap. What if he gets hurt?”

Wei Gu relented but told his clansman beside him, “Bring me the composite bow.”

“Yes!”

The clansman responded loudly, and Zhao Ji stepped back another five paces, drawing an arrow from his quiver.

Standing upright, he adjusted his breath, nocked the arrow, and smoothly drew the bowstring to full draw.

He raised the bow by about two degrees without hesitation and released the string. The twang pierced the air as the arrow, like a dark shadow, arced sharply upward.

At its apex, it slowed slightly before leveling off and descending with renewed speed toward the target.

At such a distance, Zhao Ji wasn’t certain if he had hit the mark.

Near the target, a Tiger Guard soldier waved a red flag vigorously from side to side, prompting hundreds of voices to erupt in cheer.

To watch Zhao Ji shoot closely, the crowd, surrounding him on three sides, moved back five paces as he retreated.

The adept Tiger Guard youths were all studying Zhao Ji’s stance and even his breathing rhythm.

Zhao Ji made no effort to hide, allowing everyone to observe freely.

Seeing the crowd’s excitement, Pei Xiu hurried to Zhao Ji’s side. “Aji, how’s your strength?”

“If Wei Zhongjian buys ten sheep, I can shoot some more,” Zhao Ji replied, glancing at the horn thumb ring on his right hand as the skill emblem appeared: “Clearing Thickets, Level 6, damage amplified by 48%.”

It turned out that skill advancement didn’t require defeating or killing an opponent in competition. His breakthrough in archery, amid the cheers, had leveled up the skill once again.

Yet this rapid upgrade brought no joy—it felt too fast.

From beating up Lao Er to now simply surpassing everyone’s expectations with archery, it seemed as though this little skill “addon” was afraid he would falter and perish prematurely.

So it secretly boosted his combat power whenever it could.

“Aji, don’t overexert yourself. I’ll talk to him,” Pei Xiu said, understanding the importance of pushing the limits to rally morale and establish command authority.

He immediately turned to Wei Gu and whispered, “Big brother, Aji wants ten sheep. A full meal will help him fight better.”

“I’ll give twenty sheep. If the wine from Jiangyi is insufficient, send someone to buy from Linfen across the river,” Wei Gu said, eyes fixed on Zhao Ji, ignoring Pei Xiu. “Celebrate lavishly. Let the officials and common folk on both banks know. Buy the sheep and wine, but we’ll feast on the sheep, not drink the wine. If the barbarians dare come, this will be a proper rallying flag!”

At that moment, Zhao Ji turned his head, and Pei Xiu raised his arm in encouragement.

Zhao Ji nodded and measured out five paces before turning to face the target again.

Yang Ji spoke up, “Captain, do you want to change arrows?”

Wei Xing snapped, “Fool! The captain’s feeling is just right. How could he change arrows now?”

Wei Xing felt his rebuke was harsh and glanced back at Zhao Ji.

Zhao Ji didn’t respond but carefully examined the weight and balance of an arrow taken from the quiver.

Though the arrowheads were all identical broadheads and the shafts supplied from home, the shafts had been stored over winter, exposing them to moisture and deformation.

Though he had calibrated them by the fire, the flex and bend under force varied slightly, causing subtle differences in flight trajectory.

A skilled archer always tested his arrows a few times after calibration, discarding those with large errors or reserving them as expendables.

At this moment, Xu Huang and Jia Kui rode up, coming within a few dozen paces to observe the shooting.

Anyone who could hit the target at one hundred and twenty or thirty paces would naturally have no trouble at eighty or a hundred paces.

Even in the chaos of battle, with distractions and hurriedly switching bows or arrows, as long as the feel and control remained, the lethality was still formidable.

Xu Huang was not fond of sharpshooters—especially when they were not on his side; he wished for their swift demise.

He endured patiently and watched quietly.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ji steadied his mind, drew his bow like a full moon, and released another arrow in a graceful arc.

The arrow’s flight attracted all eyes; it finally struck just below the straw target’s wooden frame, embedding about half a foot into the ground.

Guan Shang, responsible for signaling hits, hesitated, unsure which flag to raise. Normally, if the arrow had flown a little higher, it would have landed squarely on target.

But this time, the bow’s power had truly reached its limit.

After some thought, he raised the red flag, stuck it where the arrow lodged, then waved the blue flag as well.

He quickly stepped away from the target area, wary of another sudden shot.

Zhao Ji, eager to level up his skill again, drew four more arrows and shot in rapid succession.

His arms ached, but his hopes were high—though the results were disappointing.

All five arrows missed the target.

Only then did Guan Shang rush over, panting in the front row, “Aji, stop shooting. The bow’s power is insufficient. Each arrow missed by only a few paces.”

As he spoke, Guan Shang scrutinized Zhao Ji’s bow. By its design and patina, it was clear this was no fine bow but a standard military issue, likely passed down through the ranks.

Pei Xiu hurried over, pointing toward Jia Kui and Xu Huang in the distance, “Aji, Jia Liangdao has invited Xu Huang. Come with me to the camp for a meeting.”

“Yes.”

Zhao Ji immediately handed the bow to Guan Shang, unhooked the quiver from his right waist, and gave it to Yang Ji. “Gather my arrows. Keep the ones from the straw target separated, do not mix them.”

“Yes, sir!”

Yang Ji responded loudly, fearing the crowd wouldn’t hear him.

Zhao Ji simply patted his shoulder. Meanwhile, Wei Xing arrived on horseback, leading several horses.

Pei Xiu and Zhao Ji mounted and rode back toward the camp.

The other Tiger Guards continued shooting. The young men of the county were rarely reunited, and naturally, they all wished to compete.

But with Zhao Ji gone, even the skilled Tiger Guards no longer wished to showcase their archery.

Instead, the less proficient Tiger Guards, feeling no pressure, boisterously competed among themselves.