Spring in Luoyang (3)
It carried no binding force.
Nor was there any tangible gain from joining the contest.
It was nothing but a traitor's nonsense.
It could very well be a trap meant to drag her out from among her own cavalry.
The loyal officers from Bing Province shouted their absolute opposition: "Refuse at once!" "Liu Seong-hwi is said to boast exceptional tactical skill!" Her sworn sister and the foremost of her riders, Zhang Liao, also let her unease show.
But—
-A bitch with three different fathers
-Are you Lü Bu, Ding Bu, or Dong Bu
-If you're scared, stay away.
Crunch.
The thoroughly insulting provocation, laced with killing intent, pulled her fighting spirit to the surface.
She would kill him.
She would shatter that arrogant pride with the archery he so boasted about.
Murderous rage seethed inside her—she would beat the wretch who had sent a letter just to humiliate her so utterly into a pulp. At the same time, a competitive thrill surged: she wanted to test her bow against the famed archer whose reputation as the Greatest Archer Under Heaven resounded far and wide.
"Even if it's a trap, I don't care. I'll just smash the trap right along with them. Beat the Greatest Archer Under Heaven, and every warrior beneath the sky will hold me in awe."
Smash them right along with the trap.
The words revealed a fierce and pugnacious nature.
Confidence in her own martial prowess.
The nerve to walk in knowing it might be a trap, unafraid.
And a competitive hunger, a thirst for fame that would make her name ring across the realm.
Once Lü Bu accepted Liu Seong-hwi's proposal, the Bing Province officers let out sighs. Daunted by the sight of their bold heroine radiating combative fervor, they nevertheless volunteered to escort her.
"Wenyuan, I'm counting on you for the escort."
"Yes."
Zhang Liao.
The beauty with elegantly flowing black hair nodded.
If Lü Bu was a heroine who flaunted ferocious valor and nerve, Zhang Liao was a heroine of gentle steel. That was why Zhang Liao shouldered the role of brains inside Lü Bu's army, an army otherwise packed with reckless brawlers and boneheaded thugs.
Wenyuan, I can trust her with my back.
She entrusted command of the escort troops to Zhang Liao.
"Greatest Archer Under Heaven or whatever, I'm going to smash him to pieces! Our northern officers have always been famous as the great archers of the era, haven't we? How dare some southerner call himself the Greatest Archer Under Heaven...!"
"It's not self-proclaimed. The southern folk bestowed it on him as a title of praise."
"Ahem! It would've been nice if you'd just agreed with me."
"Heh, my apologies."
Lü Bu jutted her lips and grumbled.
Zhang Liao received her proud sworn sister's tantrum with an affectionate smile.
* * *
Lü Bu was one of the most famous archers of the era among all the commanders who appear in the Three Kingdoms. Her uncanny, Hundred Shots, Hundred Hits accuracy was so widely known even in the modern day thanks to the famous anecdote of Shooting the Halberd at the Camp Gate.
I wanted to see that skill for myself.
Deliberately provoking Lü Bu had been part of my competitive streak.
I also, admittedly, wanted to taunt her with "Must be nice having three daddies." I wanted to ask her to her face: is it Lü Bu, Ding Bu, or Dong Bu.
"Hmph. How's that?"
One hundred fifty paces.
A red-fletched arrow pierced the target a hundred fifty paces away.
As expected of Lü Bu.
Dead center, without a hair's breadth of error.
The golden-haired heroine, her mane tangled like a wild beast's, grinned ferociously in challenge. I answered her triumphant provocation by loosing the arrow already nocked on my string.
Twang!
The black-fletched arrow struck home.
It lodged dead center, right alongside the red-fletched arrow that had staked its claim first.
"Tch! All right, I'll grant that you live up to the name 'Greatest Archer Under Heaven'... Yeah, the rumors aren't wrong—you're damn good with a bow. You're still going to lose to me, though!"
"Do northern officers shoot arrows with their mouths?"
"Fine! I'll just shoot fast, happy?!"
"The next mark is three hundred paces."
The Chen Kingdom officers providing security bristled with open hostility, hands flying to sword-hilts as they snarled, "How dare you address His Highness the Crown Prince with such insolence!" Lü Bu fired back with a caustic retort: "Oh, so I'm supposed to use polite speech with an enemy commander? Are you southerners empty in the head?"
She had a point.
There's no reason to stand on ceremony with an enemy commander you face on the battlefield.
Bare-minimum acknowledgment is enough.
In a war drenched in bloodshed, courtesy and decorum were mere veneer.
"Tch...!"
"Looks like your concentration slipped?"
Three hundred paces.
The red-fletched arrow pierced the target,
but a tiny error pushed it just off dead center.
The black-fletched arrow, meanwhile, punched clean through the exact center's red spot. Having witnessed a display of skill so flawless it brooked no objection whatsoever, she bounced up and down on her heels, bow still clutched in both hands.
"Again! I want another round!!"
"Then next is five hundred paces."
"Wh— five hundred paces? There's no way that's possible!!"
"I can do it."
Five hundred paces.
Roughly six hundred fifty to seven hundred meters.
Hitting a target at one hundred paces alone is enough to earn the title of master archer. Even in the 21st century, with all our modern technology, five hundred paces is an extreme difficulty for Olympic archers.
"Hoo."
I let out a breath and steadied my breathing.
Then I drew the bowstring taut and sighted on the mark five hundred paces away, barely visible now.
"..."
I was aiming for the realm of impossibility.
Unless you were the divine archer from myth who shot down nine suns, hitting a target at five hundred paces was common-sense impossible.
A heavy silence settled.
So quiet you could hear someone swallow dry spit.
Even Lü Bu, normally full of lively chatter, was holding still, fists clenched, just watching.
'Hit.'
The black-fletched arrow left the bowstring.
The instant I watched its trajectory cut through the air, I knew it had struck true.
"On target!"
The soldier stationed beside the mark waved a flag.
The signal that the arrow had landed.
The northern-born officers were famous for vision so sharp it was nearly clairvoyance. So when they saw the arrow lodged in the exact center of the target, they simply froze.
What on earth,
what in the world had they just witnessed?
Five hundred paces.
They had seen a feat of divine archery that utterly defied belief.
And they stared holes through Liu Seong-hwi as though face to face with a living demon.
Lü Bu's garrulous mouth had clamped completely shut, and Zhang Liao, composure unconsciously shaken, kept her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the target.
"Wh-what in the world...!"
"That was clearly five hundred paces! How can a human being do such a thing?!"
There was no trick.
The arrow's journey from bowstring to target was absolutely straightforward and honest.
They used the same bow.
And the same arrows.
In a wide-open field without any obstacle, how would anyone even rig a trick?
Lü Bu, who had been venting her hostility, vowing to break the pride of the cadet imperial clansman she had insulted with that ugly epithet, fell silent after witnessing divine archery with her own eyes. The skill of the Greatest Archer Under Heaven had struck such a chord that even the enmity coiled inside her chest evaporated in a single breath.
"How... how did you do that?"
"It's nothing extraordinary. I only hit a target that was standing still in one place."
He looked as composed as someone who had just taken a short stroll.
Liu Seong-hwi lowered his bow and faced Lü Bu.
"You saw just now, so you understand. Even if you're five hundred paces away, don't let your guard down. No matter where you are, my arrow will aim for your heart."
"Wh-who says I'll just stand there and take it?! I'll just swat it aside!"
My arrow will aim for you.
The words were more frightening than a demon's whisper.
Hadn't even the Monster of Superhuman Strength, armored in thick steel plate, fallen in the end? Hearing Liu Seong-hwi's warning, the officers of Lü Bu's army broke out in cold sweat.
"Victory is decided. Now go back."
"T-tomorrow...! We'll do it again tomorrow! Surely you aren't going to win once and then run?!"
"Of course I'll accept the contest anytime, but..."
"I'll definitely win tomorrow!!"
Dong Zhuo is bound to be suspicious.
Liu Seong-hwi trailed off and stared at the wild filly kicking up a storm.
"Ah. Since I won today's contest, the loser has to meekly accept the penalty."
"Penalty...? You never said anything about that! Yeah, there definitely wasn't one!"
"Peerless Under Heaven, a heroine said to have no match beneath the sky—how shameless. Your own officers are all watching. Aren't you embarrassed?"
"Tch!"
She had no rebuttal.
It didn't help that she'd never been good with words.
Stung by Liu Seong-hwi's jab, Lü Bu stamped her feet and fumed.
* * *
Army Protector Wei Xu, who commanded the main camp, waited for Lü Bu in a nervous sweat.
The Flying General had returned.
The moment he heard the runner's report, his footsteps turned urgent.
He had fretted over some insidious trap, but Lü Bu and her escort returned without a single straggler, looking exactly the same as when they had ridden out from camp.
"C-Commander? On your face there are characters..."
"Enough! Everyone shut your mouths! One peep out of any of you and I'll rip your mouth open!!"
Her cheeks.
Characters were written on her snow-white cheeks. In what looked like ink.
On the left cheek: 'WAS'
On the right cheek: 'TE'
Together: 'WASTE.'
Written the right way around for all her subordinates to read, conveniently facing forward when they met her eyes.
"I'll kill him, I'll kill him...! First I'll beat him at archery, and then I'll kill him on the battlefield! Liu Seong-hwi, Liu Seong-hwi, Liu Seong-hwi!!"
She spat out seething killing intent, her cheeks trembling.
Her complexion had the clean whiteness of fresh drawing paper, making the characters that much sharper.
As if the insult "bitch with three fathers" weren't enough, she had suffered the humiliation of having WASTE scrawled across her face.
She ground her teeth.
Droplets trembled in her killing-intent-filled eyes.
She had never been insulted so thoroughly before, and rage mixed with bewildered mortification washed over her.
