Chapter 632: Raven Feather Bolt Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“Judging from the silver fox’s reaction, that gourd surely presents no threat. But if it was something good, why would the silver fox go back to sleep?” Han Sen was still unable to determine whether the gourd was good or bad, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk. Once he was healed, he planned to take the gourd out someplace far from the roads others tread and discard it.

It would be best to throw it somewhere deep into the wild, in case something emerged from the gourd that would harm innocent people.

It wasn’t as if Han Sen did not want to see what was inside the gourd, but it was too hard for him to break it. He had even tried to crack it with his berserk sacred-blood beast sword, to no avail.

Han Sen had been grievously injured, and even with the silver fox’s frequent licks, it took him four whole days to recover enough strength to walk. It would most likely take another half month for him to heal completely.

Han Sen still had the thirty-six raven feathers in his possession. If he was to transform them into bolts for his peacock crossbow, perhaps he’d be able to shatter the gourd.

Han Sen observed the black feathers with great inquisitiveness. They were one foot long each, and they were as black as soot. The shaft of each feather was hollow, with the vane tightly-knit across its length with little to no afterfeather. They were like two finely-cut slices of obsidian.

If you went along the vane, stroking gently with your fingers, you could push down the barbules. They were delicate and gentle.

But if you went against the vane, they were frighteningly sharp. It felt like countless spikes were forming a line to shred whatever came against them.

The shaft of the feather was lethally pointy, as well.

“I wonder if these feathers can be loaded directly into the peacock crossbow?” Han Sen summoned his peacock crossbow and tried to load one of the feathers.

It worked better than Han Sen thought it would, as the feather fitted inside perfectly. The feather aligned with the bolt chamber, so that it could glide softly along when fired. The only downside to using these feathers was the difficulty of retrieval. To pull a feather out of a target, you would have to go against the vane. This meant you risked the terrifying prospect of shredding your own skin against the feather.

Han Sen loaded one up and fired a raven feather bolt. A black streak flew a distance of three kilometers, managing to pierce through a giant fir tree without slowing down. It took another three barrel-thick trees to slow it down enough to remain stuck.

“It’s so strong!” Han Sen was so happy, he almost jumped with joy. He quickly went to retrieve the feather.

Han Sen could only load sixteen of the thirty-six feathers into the crossbow’s quiver. The feathers were smaller than the average bolt, of which the quiver could only contain nine.

After loading up his quiver, Han Sen traveled to the base of a mountain cliff. He placed the gourd into a little nook along its rough surface and took aim with his peacock crossbow. He fired it at the gourd.

Boom!

The black feather had a direct hit on the gourd, which triggered a powerful explosion. A big hole was blown into the craggy surface of the cliff, in which the gourd still remained lodged, without harm.

Han Sen wasn’t willing to give up so easily, however. Again, he fired an arrow at the gourd. He fired again and again. Hit after hit, explosion after explosion. The hole eventually became a deep cave but still, the gourd was undamaged.

“Holy smokes! What is with this gourd?” Han Sen couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Now that Han Sen thought about it some more, the raven was unable to bring harm to the gourd vines. It had to shed its own feathers to escape their grasp. Perhaps this was to be expected.

Han Sen retrieved the gourd with a puzzled expression and a bewildered mind. After contemplating the scenario for a little while longer, he gritted his teeth and decided to fly up somewhere extremely high with the gourd and drop it.

Han Sen really could not shake the fear of toxic wasps one day emerging from the gourd to strike him in his sleep. Han Sen had heard the fable of the Farmer and the Viper many times, and the last thing he wanted was to become such a victim.

When Han Sen dropped the gourd from a great height, the silver fox quickly grabbed it and spat it back out into Han Sen’s hand.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Han Sen asked the fox, holding the saliva-covered gourd in his hand.

But the silver fox was unable to talk, so all it could do was remain on Han Sen’s shoulder, wagging its fluffy tail.

Han Sen, not receiving a formal response, dropped the gourd once again.

And again, the silver fox leapt down, grabbed it, and passed it back to Han Sen. At least he knew that the silver fox wanted him to keep the gourd.

Han Sen observed the silver fox for a good while longer, but then turned around and left the area.

If this was something the silver fox insisted that he keep, he didn’t believe it to be of any genuine threat. Perhaps one day, it really could yield a mighty treasure of some sort.

And at least when he held the gourd himself, he could not sense any danger. It was just his paranoia insisting that he be rid of it.

The heartbeat of the gourd was what disturbed Han Sen the most. Whenever he held it in his hand, the movement inside concerned him a great deal. The curious pulsation hadn’t stopped ever since his return from Sky Pillar mountain. It beat rapidly, but faintly. He could only feel it if he held it in his hand.

Han Sen continued playing with the gourd for a few more days, unsure if it was actually the gourd that was playing with him. The dead, yellowish gourd did start looking brighter, however. It now looked like a yellow jadestone, with gold veins coursing around its complexion. It was quite beautiful.

The heartbeat of the gourd seemed to feel a little stronger, as well. It was still weak on the whole, but there was most certainly a minor improvement in its strength.

Han Sen rested for half a month. His body healed in that time and the mood of his mind improved, too.

Now that he had the peacock crossbow and raven feather bolts, providing he didn’t meet an obscenely powerful super creature like the raven, he might finally be able to hunt one down.

“Hmm, but where would I find such a target? If it was a super creature like the donkey, I could give it a shot. Literally. And even if it did not die, I should be able to escape it without much trouble,” Han Sen mulled to himself.

But the Sky Pillar mountain was still home to that wretched raven, and he didn’t fancy going near that place for a good long while.

And in regards to the super creatures that might be found in the sea, he didn’t want to hunt those, either. He would be relying on his crossbow, and crossbows were significantly weaker underwater.

The Queen told Han Sen she had something to do, and promptly returned to the Alliance. He asked her where they might find an easier super creature to deal with, but she didn’t respond to him.

Just as Han Sen was wondering whether or not it was time for him to return to the ice fields, someone knocked on his door.

“Who’s there?” Han Sen frowned.

“Brother Han, it is me!” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door; it was Chen Ran’s.

Han Sen was shocked, unable to believe the old bastard was still alive and that he had actually dared to come see him. What could he possibly want?