1106 A Sword I (2/2)

The Drunkard retreated instantly to hundreds of miles away. A moment later, he returned.

He looked at the wound on his left shoulder, that was left by the Steel Arrow, as his blood dripped on the floor and blended into the puddle of dirty water. He stayed silent for a brief moment before he lifted his head to stare at Ning Que who was already beside Sangsang.

He stood at the end of the street, approximately tens of feet away from the destructed teahouse, yet not far away from the painting and calligraphy shop.

He was determined to kill Sangsang in the earlier moment as Ning Que's Steel Arrow created a great trouble for him. His face revealed no anxiety despite his failure as he must stay calm.

The only way for him to dodge Ning Que's Steel Arrow was complete peacefulness.

He reached out to pat at his right shoulder to toss the blood onto the floor, as if he was dusting his shoulder off.

Ning Que's Steel Arrow came again.

As the Drunkard had perceived the next moment of Ning Que's finger before the Steel Arrow left the bow, he made an advanced move.

A muffled bang resonated.

A clear track of arrow appeared on the long street. The rain had stopped only a short while ago. The newly condensed water vapour misted the dark long street, in the meantime, reflected the dim light from the painting and calligraphy shop and gave out an eerie feeling.

The Drunkard returned to the street. He removed the wine bottle that was hung around his waist, brought it to his lips and took a couple of big gulps. He was oblivious to the wine that was dripping all over his body. Then, he stared silently at Ning Que and slowly took out a sharp sword from the bottle.

The Steel Arrow came again. He dodged it again. Then, he returned again.

He looked at the quiver on Ning Que's back and asked a crucial question: ”How many more Steel Arrows do you have?”

Ning Que didn't answer his question. The calmness on his face, which was covered in dust and blood, was staggering.

He was not at Chang'an. Therefore, he could not borrow the great power from the God-stunning Array. Meanwhile, Sangsang could no longer support him with endless Haotian's Divine Flame like how she used to do it before.

There was no legacy from the elders and no enlightenment from Haotian. He was left on his own.

The Drunkard didn't expect any answer from Ning Que as he knew that Ning Que had one steel arrow left. He was a step away from the victory.

Most importantly, he had confirmed that Ning Que's arrows were unable to shoot him at all.

Ning Que continued to shoot with normal arrows.

The arrows made a shrill sound as it flew passed the sky above the small town. The whistling of the arrows was intense and appeared to have absolutely no pause.

Swoosh!

Sizz!

Puff!

The arrow left the bow and was propelled at a terrifying speed, targeting accurately at the Drunkard. The arrows perforated the atmosphere and tore the night sky into half, while the dusky town was almost lit up by the glint of the many arrows.

Like a spirit, the Drunkard moved freely between the rain of arrows as he waved his sleeves gracefully.

Regardless of how fast and accurate Ning Que's arrows were, he was not able to shoot him.

It was all because of his rapid reaction.

…

The street was silent. There were arrows everywhere. There were arrows that stuck obliquely on the broken eave of the pawnshop. There arrows that stuck deep into the stone steps of the rice shop. Cracks with the shape of spiderweb appeared when the arrows hit on the green flagstone.

To be able to hit the flagstone by the arrow, one could conclude the power of Ning Que's shooting skill. Yet, his skill failed to help him to take the Drunkard down.

Ning Que held his pose as he drew the bow and aimed at the Drunkard in silence. He did not release the bowstring. His arms were exhausted after the excessive shootings from before and were trembling indistinctly.

There were only some ordinary arrows and a Steel Arrow left in the quiver on his back.

The Drunkard looked at him expressionlessly and said, ”Shoot me if you can.”

Ning Que did not reply. It was a fact that he was unable to shoot him.

The Drunkard laughed at Ning Que's wordlessness. His laugh was filled with mockery and total disdain as he said, ”Go ahead.”

Ning Que did not shoot. Nor did he put down the steel bow.

He was waiting. He was waiting for the moment when the Drunkard was no longer able to travel back and forth within seconds.

The Drunkard stood in front of the painting and calligraphy shop. Filtered by the paper on the window, the dim and slightly mottled light from the shop was cast on his face. It appeared like the leaves that stubbornly hung on the branches in the autumn and were later soaked in rainwater for a few days.

All of a sudden, a powerful array intent was released from the mottled beam on his face.