High Martial Arts: Invincible Starts from Basic Archery Chapter 3: Unlock, Basic Archery

Chen Fan followed the noise to its source, discovering a modest house encircled by a gathering crowd. A flurry of whispers and debates rippled through the onlookers.

"What could have driven Xiao Hong to lose her mind and hang herself?"

"It’s a tragedy. Her husband never returned yesterday, and having lost her child years ago, she was truly alone. She likely felt there was nothing left to live for and chose to end it."

"Such a shame."

"In these desperate times when no one knows where their next meal is coming from, death can be seen as a mercy."

A heavy silence fell over the group following those words.

Indeed, when survival is a constant struggle, death can feel like a final escape from agony. Yet, it takes a grim sort of bravery to actually go through with it.

"Move aside, let us through."

A voice cut through the air as two men emerged, carrying a makeshift stretcher. Upon it lay the pale, emaciated body of a woman. Her tongue protruded grotesquely from her mouth, creating a truly macabre image.

The sight sent Chen Fan’s heart into a frantic gallop at first glance.

The others, however, seemed desensitized or perhaps simply numb; even children under the age of ten watched without flinching.

Chen Guodong was the last to exit the house, his face etched with profound regret. Had Zhuzi not perished the previous day, perhaps this woman wouldn't have abandoned all hope.

With a raspy voice, he offered a few words of comfort to the neighbors before turning to several men. "Prepare yourselves; the hunting party leaves in thirty minutes."

The men exchanged nods of understanding.

The dead were gone, but the living still had to endure the coming days.

"How long have you been standing there?"

As the crowd began to drift away, Chen Guodong walked over to Chen Fan and asked.

"I just arrived," Chen Fan replied, still feeling a trace of horror from the glimpse of the corpse.

Chen Guodong gave a curt nod and turned to depart.

"Dad," Chen Fan called out suddenly. "Are there any extra bows available? I want to practice Archery."

Chen Guodong stopped and turned, looking surprised. His son had always been quiet and fearful in his eyes. Sending him to face fierce beasts seemed like a death sentence. What had sparked this sudden change?

"I want to get stronger," Chen Fan explained earnestly. "I don't want to starve to death."

A brief flicker of pride and relief crossed Chen Guodong’s features.

"We have bows. Head to the warehouse and seek out Uncle Zhang. Tell him I sent you. There are several bows stored there; find the smallest one and give it a try."

"Several bows?" Chen Fan was taken aback.

He had assumed that iron bows were a rarity in the camp, considering only a few hunters carried them. Based on his father's words, it seemed there were more than he thought.

Reading his son's mind, Chen Guodong remarked quietly, "Archery is far more difficult than you imagine. It takes immense practice to master. A skilled archer can take down a fierce beast from twenty or thirty meters away. If you lack the skill, you’re better off with a saber."

With that final piece of advice, he walked away.

A sense of unease settled over Chen Fan; perhaps he had been too naive. However, since the request was already made, he had to see it through.

The warehouse sat in the northwest corner of the camp. The path was empty, as most people remained indoors to preserve their energy.

Upon arrival, he was surprised to see a group of youths his own age training with spears in the open dirt lot in front of the building.

They were practicing repetitive thrusts with two-meter-long spears. Behind them, a disheveled middle-aged man with a noticeable limp paced back and forth, barked commands like "Withdraw!" and "Thrust!" to correct their form.

Chen Fan squinted, realizing this must be the Uncle Zhang his father mentioned.

He took a breath and stepped forward.

Before he could reach them, the limping man spun around, scrutinizing him from top to bottom. The training youths also paused, eyeing him with curiosity.

"Uncle Zhang, my father is—"

"I know who you are."

The man with the limp gave a knowing smirk. "You’re Chen Guodong’s kid—the one who nearly died from eating those poisonous wild fruits a few days back, right?"

Chen Fan offered a sheepish smile.

"Are you here to join the spear training?"

"I’d like to try my hand at Archery first," Chen Fan replied.

The other youths traded looks, as if sharing a private joke.

"Another one?" The limping man chuckled. "Follow me."

He turned back to the trainees, his voice suddenly sharp. "Why have you stopped? Sweating more now means bleeding less later! Get back to it!"

The youths jumped and immediately resumed their drills.

Entering the warehouse, Chen Fan was stunned by the collection of armaments. The large room was packed with sabers, spears, swords, halberds, shields, axes, and various other weapons. He even spotted a few old cannons.

Noticing his stare, the limping man grunted, "No gunpowder, so they're just scrap metal. Look over there, those are the bows. Take your pick."

On the left wall, several longbows were displayed, increasing in size from left to right. The smallest was about a meter long, while the largest was nearly two meters, rivaling the height of a man.

Chen Fan gulped and looked at Uncle Zhang. "Uncle Zhang, I think I'll start with the smallest one on the far left."

"At least you have some common sense."

The man chuckled, pulled the bow from the wall, and gave the string a test pull. A sharp "twang" echoed through the room as the string vibrated. It was clear that a snap to the face from that string would cause serious injury.

"This bow has a draw weight of forty pounds. At twenty paces, it can drop a low-level fierce beast with a single arrow. Give it a go."

He tossed the weapon to Chen Fan.

Chen Fan caught it, gripped the bow in his left hand, and notched an arrow with his right. He aimed at a nearby target and began to pull. The resistance was immediate and heavy. Gritting his teeth, he poured every ounce of strength into the draw until the string reached its limit, then he let go.

"Snap!"

The arrow whistled through the air. The recoil sent a jolt through Chen Fan’s body, leaving his right arm trembling and sore.

In that instant, the attribute panel in his mind flickered and updated.

Skills: Basic Archery, Level 0 (1%)

"???"

Chen Fan nearly shouted in shock but managed to keep his composure. Unintentionally, by simply firing a single shot, he had unlocked the Basic Archery skill. Even though it was only at Level 0, the 1% progress bar was visible.

Did this mean there was hope for him?

Following this logic, if he picked up a sword or a saber, could he unlock those skills as well? If he practiced martial arts—even something as simple as Turtle Fist—would he gain a Basic Fist Technique?

A sudden wave of motivation washed over him.

"?"

Uncle Zhang looked at Chen Fan’s face, which was beaming with an odd excitement, and frowned. Were youths these days really that easy to please? Getting that thrilled over drawing a basic bow and firing just one arrow?