The full moon tonight shines bright, casting its illuminating glow upon the boundless wilderness, while flickering scales of light dance on the distant waters.
Under the watchful eyes of many, Wang Chen, with a longbow in hand, stands atop the watchtower, akin to a frozen statue.
The entire camp is eerily quiet, with many instinctively holding their breath.
Screech—
Suddenly, a sharp night owl's call emanates from the depths of the nearby forests, rousing everyone's eardrums.
It's happened again!
Everyone instinctively furrows their brows, a wave of strong revulsion rising within them.
The same call had troubled them for nights on end, even plugging their ears failed to completely solve it.
Yet in that moment, Wang Chen on the watchtower moved.
He abruptly drew his bow, his left hand loading a cold-glinting arrow.
The next moment, this sharp arrow shot out, traversing hundreds of steps in a flash, piercing into the dark woods.
"Ah!"
