Chapter 11: Chapter Ten: The Hun Eagle Shooter

Pannonian Plain.

The Empire conquered this land in 14 BC and established it as the province of Pannonia, which roughly corresponds to parts of today’s Hungary, Romania, and Serbia, situated in the heart of Europe.

“It seems the Empire’s Danube frontier is about to collapse.”

Deng Ken gazed at the distant, desolate village nearly devoid of inhabitants, his brow furrowing slightly—if Pannonia fell, the enemy could march straight into the Empire’s heartland.

The Roman Empire possessed the longest and most complex border in ancient history, with three major rivers forming its critical defenses: the Rhine, the Danube, and the Euphrates. The Euphrates lay in eastern Syria, serving as a boundary of the Middle East; the Rhine frontier faced numerous Germanic tribes, and during the Empire’s peak, it had conquered much of Greater Germania; the Danube was the most difficult and vulnerable line, confronting a complex array of barbarian foes, and it was the only major river that froze in winter.

This might not be immediately clear, but another phrase makes it bluntly obvious.

The barbarians have already crossed the Yellow River.

The Empire now effectively lost the natural defenses of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers, leaving the Central Plains wide open for direct invasion.

The caw of crows echoed.

Beside Deng Ken, the witch stared at the distant forest and murmured, “This place has been looted.”

Under a overturned nest, no egg remains intact.

Though the parallel world’s history had diverged, the Empire’s twilight could not be reversed—the border defenses along the Danube were now held by barbarian armies, over half the soldiers were of barbarian origin, and over the years, the barbarians integrated into the Empire had risen in rebellion against oppression; military mutinies were common.

“Accepting Catulus’s invitation was clearly not a wise choice.”

Deng Ken felt joining the barbarians offered more promise than joining the Empire.

He turned to glance at the witch, lagging half a horse’s length behind, and said grimly, “Where is your guide?”

Crossing the European continent to reach the British Isles without a guide was impossible, and now, with war raging across the Empire, one misstep could draw you into the conflict. Deng Ken, as a man, had it slightly better—he might merely be forcibly conscripted—but the Witch-Queen-Tris, as a woman, and especially one of breathtaking beauty, was unthinkable to imagine what fate awaited her.

In such a turbulent age, merely traveling alone as she was meant countless dangers.

“Gaul.”

The witch replied, “He is a druid of the Gauls, who once traveled widely and now lives in seclusion in a village near the Alps.”

Deng Ken was about to speak when his brow suddenly tightened and he growled, “Watch out!”

“Something’s wrong ahead!”

He grabbed an arrow quiver and tossed it to the witch beside him, then unslung his Northern War Bow, his gaze fixed on the distant forest—where a three-way fork lay, crow calls came from within the trees, followed by startled birds and beasts taking flight.

A distant clatter of hooves approached.

Several hundred meters away, over a dozen riders appeared in view; upon spotting Deng Ken and the witch, they cheered excitedly and spurred their horses to encircle them.

“Battle formation!”

From a god’s-eye view, Deng Ken saw the riders clearly.

They were short and stocky, with round, massive heads, broad faces, high cheekbones, sunken noses, thick beards, and a single earring; they shaved all their hair except for a single lock atop their heads, had thick eyebrows, and eyes like protruding almonds.

Many among them wore loose, calf-length robes with side slits, draped short fur cloaks over their shoulders, wore leather caps, tied their trousers snugly at the ankles with leather belts, and carried quivers slung at their waists.

“Fuck! Huns?” Deng Ken’s face darkened.

He would never mistake them—their facial features were distinctly non-European, their attire closely resembled that of the nomadic peoples of the Western Regions, standing out sharply from the other riders in the group.

The Witch-Queen-Tris also spoke gravely: “They are Huns.”

“They are exceptional horse archers!”

Unlike previous enemies, this small cavalry unit included several one-star units, even one two-star silver-gray commander.

——Alani auxiliaries.

——Gothic auxiliary riders.

——Hun nomadic riders.

——Hun elite horse archer【One-Star】!

——Hun Eagle Shooter【Two-Star】!

These enemies were harder to fight than the Pamphylian scouts encountered earlier—over half the Hun cavalry were one-star units; the commander marked as the Eagle Shooter was exceptionally well-equipped: he wore a hardened leather fur cap, chainmail armor, nomadic boots with leg bindings, carried a saber at his waist, and a war bow slung on his back, with two quivers at his side—one for heavy arrows for close combat, one for light arrows for long range.

Save for the helmet, his gear rivaled that of the Mongol cavalry who would invade the West centuries later.

The Eagle Shooter was the Hun’s most elite marksman.

Records of the Grand Historian, Volume 109, Biography of General Li: “The Xiongnu launched a major invasion of Shangjun; the Son of Heaven sent a eunuch to accompany Li Guang in learning military arts to resist the Xiongnu. The eunuch led dozens of cavalry, galloped out, and encountered three Xiongnu men, engaging them in battle. The three Xiongnu turned and shot arrows, wounding the eunuch and killing nearly all his cavalry.”

Translated: “The Xiongnu launched a massive invasion of Shangjun; the Son of Heaven dispatched a eunuch to accompany Li Guang in military training to resist the Xiongnu. The eunuch led dozens of cavalry, rode out, encountered three Xiongnu men, and fought them. The three Xiongnu turned and shot arrows, wounding the eunuch and killing nearly all his riders.”

The eunuch fled back to Li Guang, who said: “These must be Xiongnu Eagle Shooters.”【The Eagle Shooters recorded in the Records of the Grand Historian were the Xiongnu’s supreme horse archers.】

He had truly encountered a formidable opponent.

With Deng Ken’s current strength—even with the god’s-eye view—he could barely hope to defeat them.

The Huns were superb horsemen; even fleeing on horseback might not work. The witch beside him had nearly the same riding skill as he did, and their mounts were clearly inferior. Here, on the Pannonian Plain, if caught, they’d be riddled with arrows like hedgehogs.

“Retreat!”

Deng Ken immediately wheeled his horse and fled; the witch reacted swiftly, catching up and saying, “The Huns are master horsemen—we won’t outrun them.”

“What’s your plan?”

The distance was closing, bit by bit.

At this rate, being overtaken was merely a matter of time.

Deng Ken paused, fixed his gaze on the witch beside him, and said grimly, “Can you wound—or even kill—one or two of them?”

He still didn’t fully understand the magic of this world.

But from his experiences so far, sorcerers with supernatural powers weren’t beyond human limits—the Forest Witch was only one-star, and he estimated he could kill her alone. According to rumors, many monsters had been slain by mortal knights and warriors; supernatural power here was more a strange, unpredictable form of attack.

After a moment’s thought, the witch said, “I can make their horses go mad.”

“I can invoke Diana’s guidance to make arrows strike the enemy—but not necessarily vital spots.”

“Other spells require rituals and incantations—there’s no time to cast them.”

Fight or flee?

Within the dimensional space, Deng Ken constantly observed the enemy’s formation changes—because they were chasing, the Hun cavalry had scattered significantly; the conquered barbarian auxiliaries lagged far behind, and only the superior Hun horse archers remained close.

This stretched the enemy line: one two-star Hun Eagle Shooter, five one-star Hun horse archers—clearly fifty to sixty meters ahead of the rest, the entire force now split apart.

An opportunity!

Deng Ken turned and tested the “Parthian Shot”—a cavalry archery technique he’d stolen from the Pamphylian scouts. The aiming reticle in his projection flickered slightly but remained within his control.

“If we win, and take the Hun Eagle Shooter’s ability...”

“Then...”

“I’ll possess the finest cavalry archery skills of this era.”

“This single victory would instantly elevate me to the top tier of mortal martial prowess in the medieval age.”

Deng Ken had long realized his plunder ability required killing powerful enemies directly to advance rapidly—he couldn’t steal skills the enemy didn’t possess. During night raids, he’d slain many barbarian stragglers, but gained only three abilities, fewer than what he’d taken from the Pamphylian scouts.

Clearly, once he’d stolen all the combat skills the barbarian stragglers held, he could no longer gain new abilities—only basic combat techniques improved.

He could only plunder what the enemy had.

“Let’s fight!”

Fleeing might not work anyway—exhausted men and horses would be even harder to fight. Better to find an opening and strike back—perhaps even turn the tables.

Deng Ken, as if seeing through heaven’s eyes, galloped ahead, guiding them as if he knew the terrain intimately—despite ordinary riding skill and carrying a witch, he left the elite Hun cavalry far behind.

The enemy’s distance widened further—the Hun horse archers had pulled ahead of the auxiliaries by two hundred meters.

Six against one—advantage is ours.

Kill the man, and the woman can be taken back for pleasure.

“The forest ahead offers a chance to strike!”

Ahead, at the fork, lay a sparse patch of trees; Deng Ken calculated the distance and said to the witch beside him, “There’s a blind spot there—we turn in, ambush them.”

“Make their horses go mad.”

“Best if you wound them—or knock the one in the fur cap off his horse. The rest is mine.”

“Strike and flee immediately.”

“The southern edge of the forest leads back to the road—they can’t catch us.”

Map fully revealed.

Deng Ken now surveyed the entire battlefield, even selecting his escape route.

The Witch-Queen-Tris looked astonished, turned back to look, then spotted the enemy in the fur cap—clearly the Hun commander.

The witch nodded, murmuring softly; crow calls echoed from the forest.

Deng Ken fell slightly behind, letting the witch ride ahead.

“Now!”

“Into the trees.”

The two split left and right; the witch spurred her horse into the forest, while Deng Ken turned into the enemy’s blind spot, pulled his reins tight to slow his mount, then drew his sword, nocked an arrow, and aimed at the enemy approaching from outside the blind spot.

In open combat, he couldn’t outshoot them—he could only exploit the blind spot, strike first, and seize the initiative.

Eagle Shooter.

Just the title alone pressed heavily on him.

“Attack!”

A sudden gale swept across the open ground; crow cries seemed to echo in midair. In that instant, Deng Ken sensed something—his projection flickered subtly, as if invisible magic had interfered with reality.

The horses screamed in panic; the pursuing Hun riders were thrown into shock, unable to control their terrified mounts.

Two of them tumbled off.

The others nearly fell too—only the Hun Eagle Shooter remained steady; he instantly clamped his arms around his horse’s neck, his thick legs squeezing tightly, muscles bulging as he gripped the beast, forcing the panicked horse to slowly collapse to its knees.

“Is this even human?!” Deng Ken was stunned.

Reality was reality—any archer strong enough to draw a heavy bow was no weakling; close combat was usually the domain of warriors.

Shh!

At that moment, an arrow shot from the forest; the witch caught it in her right palm, and in an instant, the arrow pierced the air with force rivaling a powerful bow—unforeseen and devastating. The Hun archer seemed to sense something, though he saw no witch at all; relying purely on combat instinct, he twisted at an impossible angle, using astonishing horsemanship and agility to dodge behind his horse’s right side.

Pfft.

But the witch’s spell-launched arrow flew at an unnatural angle—it struck the archer’s left shoulder. Instantly, he felt numbness spread through his left shoulder, and soon half his body grew stiff.

“Witch?!” (in Hun language)

The archer’s face twisted in horror. During their invasion of Europe, the Huns had wiped out numerous Germanic tribes, burning, slaughtering, and looting—leveling many tribal temples and seizing the gold and silver ritual vessels within.

The archer’s most prized trophy was a pure gold drinking vessel, said to have been offered by the Gauls to their so-called “God of Wine.” (Note 1: The Gauls had three great passions: drinking, horse racing, and gambling. Susrus was the Gauls’ deity of agriculture, wine, and forests.)

The Huns swept westward across Europe.

They had encountered many sorcerers with strange powers—mostly Germanic tribal priests—but their tricks were worthless. Even sorcerers who dared resist were shot dead with arrows; during the raid on Greater Germania, a dozen Hun cavalrymen had trampled a witch who could summon venomous insects to death beneath their horses’ hooves.

That witch had killed one man and wounded two before being crushed into a pulp of flesh and bone.

The Huns had their own sorcerers.

They mastered incantations and spells, could heal wounds; strictly speaking, their sorcerers were closer to shamans.

Of course, any shaman who defied the chieftain’s orders was cut down by knives.

Shh!

The arrow pierced the air.

Deng Ken’s target was clear: the Hun archer. A sharp arrow struck the man’s chest—but because the archer wore armor, the wound was not severe.

— Hun Archers [Two-Star] (Poisoned) (Paralyzed).

Deng Ken’s arrow was certainly not poisoned—it was the witch’s magic taking effect.

The Hun archer’s body suddenly stiffened.

Hit!

Deng Ken swiftly nocked another arrow, ignoring Hun horse archers aiming at him, and fired again—this time piercing the archer’s skull.

The enemy’s health bar vanished instantly.

It seemed the Huns were much like the barbarians—slightly tougher than ordinary men, but a hit to a vital spot still meant instant death.

Several arrows shot through the air.

One arrow veered off course mid-flight, but the Hun horse archers’ skill was too great; even with the witch secretly shielding him, one arrow struck Deng Ken in the back. He grunted in pain and spurred his horse hard along the planned retreat route.

“When will I be strong enough to catch arrows with my bare hands?”

Within the dimensional space.

Deng Ken glanced at the projection: his health bar had dropped by about one-fifth. Thanks to his padded leather armor with studs, the arrow had only pierced flesh—he wasn’t dying.

— Parthian Shot!

Deng Ken turned, drew his bow, and the arrow shot through the air. With the skill active, his aiming crosshair stabilized further.

Bang!

One shot, one kill—headshot.

A Hun horse archer nearby dropped dead, his body tumbling from his horse.

The skill had no cooldown.

But it drained stamina more heavily.

— Parthian Shot!

Deng Ken spun again and fired—another arrow screamed through the air, instantly decapitating a Hun horse archer who had just raised his bow. His aim and firing speed were utterly crushed by Deng Ken’s. Both shot arrows—but Deng Ken carried his own aiming crosshair, firing nearly one arrow per second.

The Hun riders’ faces twisted in shock!

One against six.

Three dead, three wounded.

They hadn’t seen the witch—they assumed Deng Ken had killed all three.

For a moment, the Huns dared not counterattack; they fled toward their reinforcements.

Deng Ken did not pursue.

He retreated under arrow wounds, barely had he spurred his horse when the Crow Queen—Tris—burst from the trees and caught up.

Deng Ken exclaimed in surprise: “Why didn’t you retreat south?”

The original plan had been for the witch to flee south through the forest path after acting, while Deng Ken, relying on his God’s-eye view, would fight and fall back—he still had time to escape.

The witch spurred her horse to catch up, panting: “If I fled now—”

“How could you possibly face so many enemies alone?”

I’ve got cheat mode on.

Deng Ken said nothing in the end, only gave the witch a long, deep look.

………………