By the time Yan Jin made it back to his hut, the sun was slowly creeping out, illuminating the atmosphere with a soft, golden hue. He sat on his bed for a ritual of introspection. Analyzing his actions from the hunt had become a crucial habit, a carryover from his days as a professional athlete where post-performance reviews were paramount for future improvements.
"I can shoot very fast with my left hand since it is my dominant one, but my right hand falls behind," he muttered while meditating to digest the energy he had absorbed the night before. "So, I always have to reposition my left side to shoot. My aim is shaky when I am not standing still. So, I need to stop every time I shoot an arrow before moving again."
His analysis highlighted two immediate problems: ambidexterity and movement shooting. Yet, the main issue loomed larger, a common dilemma for any ranged attacker: close combat. In a world where bloodline warriors could achieve the impossible, a ranged attacker was vulnerable once the opponent closed in. This was especially true for foes with burst movement speed, like the Poison Tree Snake.
Yan Jin had devised many strategies over the years, including the spear arrow technique, but each had its drawbacks. "In an open area, I can retreat indefinitely, but indoors, I would be dead meat against a swordsman or a spearman," he mused.
Unable to find an immediate solution to his close combat vulnerability, he decided to focus on the short-term issues. "I need to be faster, to train my speed and my movement," he resolved.
As he planned his new training regimen, a sudden, life-threatening danger pricked his senses. Reflexively, he grabbed his case and leaped out of the window. The bright sky had darkened ominously, and fiery streaks rained down from above. It was a meteor shower, with fireballs hurtling toward the little creek village.
Yan Jin's senses picked up the rough trajectory of the projectiles, but he could only curse under his breath as he took cover. A series of explosions rocked the area and the outskirts of the Beast Forest, each blast reverberating through the ground and rattling his bones. For a few minutes that felt like an eternity, the relentless barrage continued, leaving a ringing sound in his ears as he struggled to find his bearings.
Chaos was everywhere. He could hear the lamenting screams from the village and the panicked cries of animals in disarray within the forest. His soul domain, which could normally expand to about a kilometer, was completely jumbled, as if something was causing severe interference. He felt dizzy and drowsy, struggling to keep his focus amidst the cacophony.
As he tried to reorient himself, Yan Jin realized his hut was gone. He couldn't sense it at all. In its place was a giant crater, with pieces of meteorite shrouded in fire and dust scattered around. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and sulfur, and the heat from the impact made the area almost unbearable.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head and the disorientation from the soul domain interference, he forced himself to stand, using his cane to steady himself as he headed toward the village.
The disaster was evident: houses on fire, bodies and injured villagers scattered along the sides of the streets, the smell of carbon filling the air. Survivors were frantically digging through debris for others, some mourning the dead, while others were busy putting out fires.
Yan Jin immediately busied himself, pushing debris out of the way to help a crying child. It took the entire day to pull survivors from the wreckage and clean up the carnage. Spirits were down as the village chief requested everyone to gather and discuss the situation and the next steps.
"We lost 150 people, half of the hunt team is dead. We might not be able to ensure sufficient food for winter," Gu Zhun announced, further dampening the general morale.
"Why are the gods punishing us?" lamented a villager.
"This is not the work of gods, it's just bad luck," murmured Yan Jin.
"Do you know what it is?" asked Gu Zhun, being the only awakened warrior, he could actually hear Yan Jin's murmur.
"I can't see. How would I know? But if it is what I think it is, we might be in bigger trouble," Yan Jin replied.
Old Zhu, suspecting that Yan Jin knew more due to his mysterious background, pressured him, "I know you are dissatisfied with the village, but if you know something, please share it with us."
Immediately, the other villagers supported his statement, urging Yan Jin to share his findings. After letting out a sigh, Yan Jin began, "This is probably some rare metal ore," he then pointed at Gu Zhun, "You probably feel the energy coming out of it! Even though I can't see, the energy it emits has been pounding at me all day."
Gu Zhun frowned and said, "Supposing you are right, we could sell the ore for provisions. Why is it a disaster?"
Old Ma, the blacksmith, was sitting on a wooden stool with his right leg amputated as an emergency relief. In his other hand, he held his terrified granddaughter. He spat whatever liquid he was drinking on the ground and said, "With the commotion this celestial ore created, bloodline warriors will be reaching us by sunrise tomorrow! Best case scenario, we manage to trade some ores for resources. Worst case scenario, they slaughter everybody to silence us."
"The blind ghost is right about the energy it emits; it is very precious. Regardless of the situation, we are screwed," he added.
A murmur of panic spread among the villagers. Sensing the agitation, Old Zhu took the lead, "Gather the women, children, and injured and head toward the Winter Storm Crease for a couple of days. The able-bodied should collect the fallen ores, and we will offer them to the bloodline warriors as they arrive and beg for forgiveness! They will not be unreasonable."
Yan Jin sighed again, thinking to himself, "Don't be afraid of a godlike enemy; be more worried about a pig-like teammate." As he left toward the wreckage of his hut.