Chapter 98: Shooting Competition

Borjigin and Temujin met very early on; the two became acquainted when they were thirteen years old.

At that time Temujin's father had died, and his uncle's family had driven them out of the Taichiwu tribe; the family could only take the few livestock they had left and scrape by outside, and at the time the horses belonging to Temujin's household were stolen.

For their family this was an unimaginable loss; Temujin mounted his horse and went after those horse thieves, and in the course of it he met Borjigin.

When Temujin asked him about the direction the horse thieves had gone, he agreed very readily, but he also raised a question: "There are probably seven or eight horse thieves, and you're only one person — even if you catch up, what can you do about it?"

Unexpectedly, Temujin said with great confidence: "Although I don't have the strength to match eight men, I do have a mind sharper than that of several dozen men put together."

As if moved by the boy's confidence, Borjigin asked to go after the horse thieves with him. At sunset the two arrived at a group of commoners and saw Temujin's horses grazing beside the camp. Temujin said: "Friend, you stay here; I'll go drive the horses out." Borjigin said: "I came here together with you — how could I possibly stay here?" The two rode in together and drove the horses out.

Many riders came after them one after another. One man on a white horse, holding a lasso pole, spurred ahead and caught up first. Borjigin said to Temujin: "Friend, give me your bow and arrows — I'll shoot him!" Temujin said: "I'm afraid you'll get hurt on my account; I'll shoot him." So saying, Temujin wheeled around to meet the attack.

The sight of the boy drawing his bow, nocking an arrow, and shouting the pursuers into retreat is still before his eyes to this day; even then he felt the boy before him was worth following for a lifetime.

After this incident he became even more obsessed with the bow and arrow. As long as he could shoot far enough and accurately enough, one man alone could put seven or eight — even twenty — to flight.

By now he was already one of the top divine archers on the steppe; he was confident that very few people in this world could shoot farther or more accurately than he. But the battle in which the revolutionary army utterly routed the tribal coalition showed him that there were well over ten thousand people who could shoot farther than he could.

Although they weren't as accurate as he was, they shot faster than he did. By the time he drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and let one fly, others had already fired ten shots. Borjigin was well aware that this world could not possibly have so many people who could shoot farther than he.

The only reason they could outrange him was the special weapon in their hands — the gun. To get his hands on a gun, he had come to this tribe in person, sparing no effort.

When he gripped the gun in his hands, pulled the trigger, and fired the first bullet, the excitement inside him was something only he himself could understand — such a weapon was practically tailor-made for a divine archer like him.

Admittedly, when the trigger was pulled the gun had quite a kick, but compared with the strength it took him to draw his bow and nock his arrow, that kick seemed hardly worth mentioning.

If he practiced with a weapon like this for a few days, he could easily kill enemies beyond six hundred paces. But six hundred paces was the limit of Borjigin's own eyesight — not the limit of the Wu Liu Ban.

This Wu Liu Ban could send a bullet as far as two thousand paces, and anyone hit within fifteen hundred meters would still be either killed or wounded.

The squad leader was furious at his unauthorized firing of the gun, but after seeing his target-practice score, not only did he not get angry, he instead took out his own allowance and treated the whole squad to a good meal.

During the meal the squad leader saw how much he liked guns and suggested he enter the army-wide shooting competition. First place would receive a prize personally awarded by Instructor Nie — it seemed to be a gun with better performance than the Wu Liu Ban, fitted with a device that let one see farther. A divine archer could use such a gun to kill enemies beyond fifteen hundred meters.

Hearing that the prize was such a divine weapon, Borjigin felt the hot blood boiling all over his body. Fifteen hundred meters away — one really could kill an enemy without a trace.

That evening Temujin and his group all signed up. Originally Temujin didn't want to register for the competition — after all, he had met Nie Huaishang before — but who would have thought his squad leader signed him up directly without asking.

With no choice, he could only pretend he was too nervous, miss the target several times, and withdraw from the competition. The squad leader, however, didn't blame him too much, and instead comforted him for a while.

Borjigin, Kublai, Jele-me, and Subutai, on the other hand, showed off their prowess at this sniper competition; after a few days of practice they could all hit targets beyond six hundred paces.

Of course, six hundred paces only got them on the target. The only one who could consistently score a ten-ring was Borjigin, the number one marksman. As the elimination rounds went on, they ran into truly formidable experts.

When they reached the top-one-hundred round, Jele-me was eliminated. The one who eliminated him was a burly, powerfully built man called Jirko'aday. He was seen raising his hand and saying arrogantly to the competition official: "Don't waste time and bullets like this — move the target out to seven hundred paces. As long as someone can match my score, I'll concede defeat on the spot."

"Seven hundred paces — are you sure?" the competition official asked in disbelief.

"Of course I'm sure. I've watched their matches. To tell the truth, scoring like that is really a disgrace to the guns in their hands," Jirko'aday said contemptuously.

"What are you being arrogant about? What you can do, we may well be able to do as well," Jirko'aday said with a face full of defiance.

"Fine then, let's try it," Jirko'aday said with great interest.

When the target was moved to the seven-hundred-pace position, Jele-me could only see a tiny black speck in the distance; hitting the target at all was already his limit.

Jele-me let out a breath and fired ten shots in a row.

"Report: all ten shots hit the target, fifty rings total."

Hearing this score, Jele-me breathed a sigh of relief — for him this score counted as an over-the-top performance.

"Mm, this score is still passable, but compared with a true expert it's far behind." So saying, he raised his gun and fired ten rounds in a row.

Then the target-spotter's trembling voice came from afar: "Report: all ten rounds have hit the target — a total of, a total of one hundred rings."

Hearing this score, the competition official stood up in disbelief, and had someone bring the target sheet over to look. When he saw the ten bullet holes on the ten-ring positions, he was utterly shocked.

Shocked were not only the official but also Jele-me — a hundred rings at seven hundred meters. Is this guy even human?

Jele-me, who had just been eliminated, was in a foul mood. Borjigin and Subutai, who had just passed their own matches, each clapped him on the shoulder and comforted him: "It's just one loss, right? Whoever knocked you out — later Subutai and I will eliminate him for you and get your revenge."

Jele-me pushed the two of them away and said helplessly: "It's not because of that. I'm downhearted because these people probably aren't a match for that guy."

"Is that guy really that formidable?" Borjigin asked in disbelief.

"A hundred rings at the seven-hundred-pace position — you tell me, is that guy formidable or not?" Jele-me finished speaking and shot Borjigin a withering look.