Chapter 45: Fated Enemies Cross Paths
Not only him, but everyone else stood frozen, overwhelmed by this unexpected windfall.
They had thought four was the maximum, but Chen Fan had struck another target from 300 meters away. Five kills! These antelope-like beasts were swift runners and lighter than most creatures, yet each still weighed nearly 200 pounds. Five meant a full thousand pounds of meat!
This haul would feed the village for over half a month.
Converted to rice, it would equal three to four thousand pounds—enough to last even longer.
Just imagine the villagers' faces when they saw this bounty!
"Uncle Liu, this isn't a dream—it's real," Chen Fan said with a laugh, flexing his arm regretfully. "Pity they fled so fast. I could've taken another."
"Five's more than enough!" The bald man waved vigorously. Dragging back even these five would challenge their group. Another would've been impossible.
The absurdity struck him—since when had he ever worried about having too much game to carry?
Others gradually recovered from their shock, faces blooming with delight.
Chen Guodong's brow furrowed with concern. "Xiao Fan, your arm—is it hurt?"
A 100-pound draw weight bow fired five times straight—a feat beyond even the Wei brothers. While the bounty thrilled him, his son's health mattered more.
"Two antelopes would've been plenty," someone chimed in.
"Don't push yourself so hard," another added.
Gao Yang and the others voiced similar worries. Chen Fan had become their linchpin. In any crisis, most would gladly shield him—his safety outweighed theirs.
Chen Fan shook his arm demonstratively. "Really, I'm fine." Privately, he noted the ample provisions—time to broach martial training.
Scanning the group, he declared, "Father, uncles—I've reached the first tier of Body Tempering. Not just entered it, but stand among the stronger initiates. This bow's no strain now."
"Body Tempering?"
"A martial practitioner?"
"First tier already?"
The men gaped, then erupted in exclamations. They remembered the Wei brothers' claims of nearing first-tier strength—enough to use this bow twice before resting. Yet here stood Chen Fan, unfazed after five shots.
"No wonder you're not winded!" Gao Yang marveled.
"Didn't you hear?" another cut in. "He's not just first-tier—he's top-tier among them!"
"So... second-tier strength?"
"Close enough. Stronger than the Wei brothers, certainly." The speaker sucked air through teeth, eyes alight. "Xiao Fan—does martial cultivation truly grant such power?"
The group leaned forward, Chen Guodong included. Survival had left no room for training before, but Chen Fan's prowess kindled new ambition.
"Greater than you imagine," Chen Fan affirmed. "Uncle Zhang mentioned a man at Zhao Fort who draws a 300-pound bow with kilometer range—a Muscle Refinement cultivator."
"Zhao Da?" The bald man's grin faded. "They say he slays mid-tier beasts solo—unscathed."
"That's no boast?" someone whispered, having dismissed it as recruitment propaganda.
"Zhang Ren vouched for it," Chen Guodong murmured. He'd always sensed depth in the quiet hunter.
Chen Fan pressed his advantage: "Before, survival consumed us. Now with ample food, you should train too. Progress will be slow, but strength brings security—true self-reliance."
"Truly possible?"
"If Xiao Fan says so, it's truth!" Gao Yang thumped his chest. "I'll start tonight!"
"Me too!"
"All of us!" The bald man's laughter boomed.
Chen Fan's closing argument had struck home—reliance on others couldn't last. The Wei brothers' departure had nearly doomed them before Chen Fan's rise.
Chen Fan smiled. Even minor physical gains would ease logistics. Though a cart would help...
Miles away, Zhang Ren sneezed, unease prickling his neck. He shook it off—likely just dust.
The party lashed spears into litter poles, pairing up to carry the weight. Chen Fan single-handedly dragged the fifth carcass—effortless strength silencing doubts.
Laughter echoed on the trail, miles melting under camaraderie.
Then figures emerged ahead. Hearts stuttered—dozen-strong, closing fast.
Recognition dawned.
"Li Village!" the bald man roared.
