"He only uses one arrow at a time, and there are so many of us. Why be afraid? Let's charge together!"
In every team, there are impulsive people.
Some were swayed.
The man with glasses remained silent, pleased to see someone standing in front.
Archer didn't retreat, just calmly said, "One arrow at a time can still target one person. There are twenty-one of you. Who do you think I will target first?"
He moved the target of his bow, sweeping over the people in front, "Is it you, you, or you?"
The last one he aimed at was the man who had just spoken.
The man was startled and instinctively stopped in his tracks.
When he realized he had been intimidated by a kid, he felt embarrassed and toughened his neck, "Come on, try if you dare!"
He pointed at his own neck.
Archer stood still in his original spot.
His composure was strong, and he was cool enough; for several minutes, his bow-drawing hand didn't move, nor did his arm shake.
Stable, like a steadfast pine.
