Legend of the Divine Archer

Suddenly, more humanoid figures began to materialize in the shadows, their forms flickering into existence like specters called forth from the dark. They moved quickly, their glowing yellow eyes locked on Yan Jin as they prepared to attack. There was no hesitation in their movements, no hesitation in their intent—they were here to kill.

Yan Jin braced himself, his body moving with a predator's grace. One plasma cell lunged at him from the right, claws extended. Yan Jin sidestepped the attack, spinning his bamboo stick with deadly precision, and struck the figure across the head. The creature crumbled into yellow light as soon as it made contact with his weapon.

Another plasma cell came from behind, this one larger, its claws aimed at his back. Without turning, Yan Jin ducked and swept his stick low, taking out the creature's legs. It collapsed, and he quickly dispatched it with another sharp blow to the neck.

The next plasma cell was faster, darting in from above with its wings spread wide. It screeched as it descended, talons gleaming in the dim light. Yan Jin waited until the last moment, then twisted to the side, letting the creature pass by him before striking it with a downward thrust. The birdman exploded into light, just as the others had.

They kept coming—more and more of them. It was as though the labyrinth itself was trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. But Yan Jin was calm, his movements precise and methodical. He dispatched each plasma cell with a deadly efficiency, his bamboo stick becoming an extension of his body as he struck again and again.

Two hours later, Yan Jin finally managed to catch his breath. His chest heaved as he leaned against the cold stone wall of the labyrinth, his muscles tense from the strain of battle. He closed his eyes, focusing inward on his soul power, trying to stabilize the swirling energy that had accumulated during the relentless onslaught of plasma cells.

The moment he began to circulate his blood, something unexpected happened. The visions from before began to take shape again, this time clearer than ever.

The image of the Garuda—the celestial being of ice and storm—flashed vividly in his mind. Its wings were outstretched, slicing through the blizzard like two deadly blades. Yan Jin watched as the Garuda's feathers, sharp as any sword, tore through the storm with terrifying precision. But what struck him most was not just the sheer power of the Garuda's attacks—it was the elegance of its movements.

Each flick of its wings was a calculated, effortless motion. Every feather that flew through the storm was aimed with purpose, striking its target with lethal accuracy.

Yan Jin's mind raced. This wasn't just some random vision; it was a message, a revelation. The Garuda's movements and attacks weren't just impressive—they held the key to refining his own archery. He had always focused on power and precision, but the Garuda had shown him something more. Its feather barrage wasn't just raw force; it was technique.

Its ability to harness the storm, to use the very wind and ice as part of its attack, resonated deeply with Yan Jin.

In that moment, Yan Jin felt his soul power surging. The plasma cells he had absorbed had done more than just replenish his energy—they had elevated it, refined it. His connection to the Garuda's memory was sharpening, and with it, his own abilities. His mind was flooded with ideas, techniques he could adopt and transform into his own.

He imagined replicating the Garuda's feather barrage with his arrows—launching not just one or two, but a deadly flurry, each one imbued with purpose and deadly precision, tearing through his enemies with the same grace and lethal accuracy as the Garuda's feathers.

He also saw the Garuda's ability to maneuver through the storm, its body moving with an impossible fluidity, gliding effortlessly despite the chaos around it. Yan Jin's instincts as a hunter were already sharp, but this vision gave him something new—a way to move through battle with the same graceful ease.

He envisioned himself moving like the Garuda, evading attacks with fluid motions, shifting in and out of his enemies' reach before delivering a precise, devastating strike.

Yan Jin clenched his fists. He would turn these visions into reality. The Garuda's techniques would become part of his arsenal. He would develop a new archery style, one that combined the power of his soul force with the elegance and precision he had seen in the Garuda's attack. His arrows would rain down like feathers in a storm—swift, unstoppable, and devastating.

And the movement techniques—he would study them, learn how to weave through the battlefield with the same fluid grace. Every tap of his bamboo stick against the stone floor of the labyrinth was now filled with purpose, mapping out the terrain in his mind, but also preparing his body to move like the Garuda.

The plasma cells had given him more than just memories—they had unlocked a deeper understanding of combat, and Yan Jin was determined to use it to its full potential.

A faint smile crossed his lips. His soul power had grown immensely since the beginning of this trial, but there was still so much more to uncover. He had only just scratched the surface of what these plasma cells could offer. The Garuda's memories had inspired him, but he knew there were more secrets hidden within the labyrinth.

He had realized that each plasma cell he absorbed not only improved his soul power but also brought with it new insights, new techniques.

Yan Jin stood up, feeling the weight of the bow on his back. His muscles ached, but his determination was stronger than ever. He had come into this labyrinth with a single goal—to survive and win. But now, he had an even greater ambition. He wanted to master the Garuda's techniques, to transform himself into something far more powerful than he had been before.

And he would continue to fight, continue to hunt, until he unlocked every secret the labyrinth had to offer.

After a brief rest, Yan Jin surged forward, his body moving with newfound purpose as he resumed his relentless journey through the maze. Every step was deliberate, every move honed by the knowledge he had gained from the Garuda's vision.

Each Plasma Cell he encountered was swiftly dispatched, his bamboo stick cracking through the air with lethal precision, turning enemies into golden light that surged into his body. The maze was vast, its passages winding and confusing, yet Yan Jin pressed on, fighting the constant onslaught of plasma cells while navigating the labyrinthine corridors.

Days passed, and Yan Jin found himself constantly on the move. His mind had begun to adjust to the rhythm of the maze, his senses sharpening as he used sound to guide him through the darkness.

Outside, within the grand observation hall, a massive array of monitors displayed the progress of the candidates within the labyrinth. The City Lord stood alongside Purple Spear Meng, watching the participants fight for survival within the maze. The tension in the room was palpable as powerful figures scrutinized the leaderboard, noting which participants had advanced and which had fallen behind.

Purple Spear Meng's eyes were fixed on Yan Jin's monitor. Though Yan Jin was moving, his name was hovering near the bottom of the leaderboard, his progress slower than many others. "He has a handicap because of his sight," Purple Spear Meng observed, his voice neutral but tinged with concern. "The others can see and move with more ease. He is forced to rely on his other senses. It's slowing him down."

The City Lord frowned slightly as he glanced at the leaderboard. Yan Jin's name was indeed close to last. "Maybe we have been expecting too much from him," he mused aloud. "His progress is slower than the others. Perhaps this challenge is too much for him after all. He is talented, but this maze requires more than just skill—it requires speed, adaptability, and the ability to make quick decisions.

Without his sight, he is at a significant disadvantage."

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