As Yan Jin retreated backward, disappearing into the shadows, a deadly silence hung in the air for a brief moment. Yan Li's eyes darted around, trying to track his adversary, but his corrupted senses could only catch fleeting glimpses of the archer. His breaths were shallow, his energy running low, but his bloodlust kept him fueled, the blood magic within him bubbling beneath his skin.
Then, without warning, an arrow tore through the air like a bolt of lightning. Yan Li barely had time to react before it slammed into his energy shield with a deafening explosion. The force sent him staggering back, his feet digging into the dirt as he struggled to maintain his balance. Before he could recover, another arrow came—then another, and another.
They rained down on him like a relentless storm. Some exploded on impact, rocking his shield and sending shockwaves through his body, while others seemed to pierce straight through the gaps in his defenses, forcing him to expend more energy than he could afford.
Each arrow was a calculated strike, forcing Yan Li to guard himself from every angle, never allowing him a moment of reprieve. He gritted his teeth, growling in frustration. He couldn't tell which arrows carried explosives and which were mere distractions. Every shot demanded his full attention, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of the others.
Wei Xi, Meng Xiao, and Yan Bai took full advantage of this. The relentless barrage from Yan Jin gave them the breathing room they desperately needed. They used the precious moments to catch their breath, steadying their minds and bodies before re-engaging the fight.
They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. The three of them moved in unison, surrounding Yan Li in a triangular formation. Wei Xi, with his spear at the ready, circled to the right, his eyes locked on Yan Li's every movement. Meng Xiao shifted to the left, her eagle-like claws flexing in anticipation.
Yan Bai held his spear steady, his face set with grim determination as he moved in closer.
Yan Jin, hidden in the darkness, continued his assault from afar. His arrows were precise, deadly, and unpredictable, striking at Yan Li's defenses from multiple angles. Every time Yan Li tried to focus on one of his close-range opponents, an arrow would slam into his shield, diverting his attention once more.
Yan Li was caught in a deadly dance—trapped between the close-quarters assaults of the three warriors and the long-range bombardment of Yan Jin's arrows. He could feel the pressure mounting, his shield flickering and weakening with each blow. His corrupted dragon energy surged, but it wasn't enough to fully repel the coordinated assault.
Wei Xi lunged forward, his spear aimed directly at Yan Li's exposed side. Yan Li barely managed to deflect the attack with a swipe of his hand, but before he could counter, Meng Xiao was upon him, her claws slashing through the air with lightning speed.
Yan Li twisted away, the claws narrowly missing his throat, but her follow-up strike caught him across the chest, tearing through his already tattered robes and drawing blood.
Yan Bai, seeing an opening, thrust his spear forward with all his might. The tip of the spear glinted in the moonlight as it hurtled toward Yan Li's heart. At the last moment, Yan Li managed to shift his body, the spear grazing his ribs instead of piercing through.
At Yan Jin's command, the trio sprang into action with the precision and desperation of warriors putting their lives on the line. Wei Xi was the first to move, his spear spinning in his hands as he lunged forward with a burst of speed. His innocence had long faded in the heat of battle, replaced by the raw determination of a fighter who knew this was their moment to strike.
He drove his spear downward with a forceful thrust, aiming for Yan Li's legs to immobilize him. The corrupted man snarled, twisting his body, but Wei Xi was relentless, his spear finding purchase and pinning Yan Li's leg to the ground.
Meng Xiao, quick as lightning, followed suit. She darted around Yan Li's side, her fingers extending into deadly claws. With precision, she struck at Yan Li's shoulders, her claws piercing his flesh and sinking deep. Her grip was vice-like, holding him in place as she used her full strength to keep him down.
Blood splattered from the wounds, and Yan Li howled in fury, his corrupted energy flaring around him, but Meng Xiao's resolve did not falter.
Yan Bai completed the pincer, his silver spear glowing in the moonlight as he rammed the blunt end of it into Yan Li's spine, forcing him further onto his knees. Yan Li's body shook under the combined force of their assault, his roars of defiance filled with rage and desperation, but the coordinated attacks pinned him down, locking him in place as his body struggled to break free.
Breathing heavily, Yan Jin stood a few paces back. He felt the flow of energy between his comrades, each movement resonating through him like a carefully orchestrated dance. He knew this was his moment.
He planted his bow into the ground with deliberate care, driving it deep into the earth. the currents of the battle coursed through him like an electric pulse. He bent his leg at an impossible angle, drawing the bowstring back with the help of his foot. The tension in the string grew immense, humming with the deadly energy concentrated between the bow and the javelin now hooked in place.
The air around Yan Jin grew cold, a freezing aura emanating from his very being, coating the ground beneath him in frost. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, an almost tangible weight settling over the battlefield. As he pulled the javelin back to its maximum tension, the energy around him shifted, growing darker, sharper, deadlier.
An unnatural cold flame ignited along the length of the javelin, the freezing fire licking the edges of the weapon, dancing dangerously as if feeding on the very air itself. The flame wasn't ordinary—it carried an aura of ancient malevolence, the will of something far older and far more sinister than any magic they had encountered before.
The energy concentrated at the tip of the javelin, growing denser and denser until it seemed ready to explode.
Yan Jin's breath steadied, his focus locked in, timing every second with precision. He waited for the perfect moment, feeling the tension of the fight, the strained effort of his comrades holding Yan Li in place, the buildup of energy within him as his entire being aligned with the shot.
Then, with a swift and practiced motion, he let go.