The Mute Servant saw the situation and immediately thought something was wrong. His mind, clouded by anger, suddenly cleared, and he realized that in a moment of agitation, he had incurred the wrath of the crowd.

Seeing the townsfolk charging at him, he began to panic. No matter how strong he was, he couldn’t possibly withstand an attack from so many people at once.

In his panic, he made a foolish move—he didn’t even try to find Devon, but simply turned and ran. This guilty reaction happened to confirm Devon’s words.

The strong men immediately chased after him with even more enthusiasm.

But to everyone’s surprise, The Mute Servant’s running speed was astonishingly fast. In no time, he had sprinted over thirty meters, leaving his pursuers far behind.

He was also extremely agile. Many townsfolk who tried to intercept him along the way were easily dodged by his nimble movements.

For a moment, no one could catch up to him.

Just as he was about to escape, someone in the crowd shouted, “Move aside, let me!”

At this moment, Devon had just reached the wooden cart and grabbed his axe. Hearing the shout, he turned to look and saw that it was the hunter, Uncle Nolan.

In his hands was his family’s heirloom hardwood longbow, already nocked with a dark iron arrow, aimed straight at the fleeing The Mute Servant.

The strong men chasing The Mute Servant immediately moved aside to clear the way. Everyone had great faith in the hunter’s archery skills.

Nolan shouted, exerted all his strength, and managed to draw the powerful bow to half its full draw.

With a “twang,” the bowstring vibrated, and the iron arrow shot toward The Mute Servant’s vital spot on his back with deadly precision—worthy of the town’s best hunter.

Nolan was ruthless; this shot was never meant to let The Mute Servant survive.

No one knew Nolan’s archery better than Devon. Even at half draw, the bow’s power was astonishing, not to mention the rare cast iron arrowhead. Even a werewolf from the dark forest couldn’t withstand such a shot.

All the townsfolk present, including Devon, believed that The Mute Servant was doomed this time.

But what happened next left everyone dumbfounded.

The iron arrow, whistling through the air, flew toward The Mute Servant’s back. Just as it was about to strike, The Mute Servant, without even looking, casually swung his arm backward and used the dagger in his hand to deflect the arrow at the very last instant.

The arrowhead and dagger collided, sending out a few sparks, a testament to the force behind the blow.

But that was the end of it—the iron arrow was easily knocked aside, not injuring him in the slightest, nor even slowing his pace.

Seeing this, hunter Nolan’s eyes filled with disbelief. His proud archery skills had been so effortlessly countered, and the confidence on his face vanished without a trace.

“How is that possible?” he muttered to himself, the blow to his pride immense.

But he was only stunned for a moment. As soon as he came to his senses, he looked around and quickly spotted Devon not far away. He immediately tossed his bow to Devon and shouted, “Kid, your turn!”

Devon’s archery was taught by him; he knew Devon’s abilities very well, just as Devon knew his.

The townsfolk all knew this too. Everyone was aware that Devon was his apprentice, the one who had inherited the old hunter’s archery mastery.

Devon didn’t hesitate. He reached out to catch the powerful bow, then caught the iron arrow that Nolan tossed over, nocked it, drew the string, and pulled the bow to its full arc—like a full moon!

With a twist of his longbow, he aimed at The Mute Servant’s back and, without even taking aim, released the arrow.

The entire sequence was seamless, as smooth as flowing water. The dense ironwood bow let out a loud twang, and the iron arrow shot out silently, leaving a black streak in everyone’s eyes, streaking straight toward The Mute Servant’s back, now over seventy meters away.

Just like Nolan’s shot, this arrow was deadly accurate, aimed at a vital spot. More importantly, the force behind it was much greater than Nolan’s.

This was Devon’s physical advantage, his innate talent.

This time, the fleeing The Mute Servant sensed the threat behind him and dared not take it lightly.

The arrow was too fast, flying silently like a viper darting from the grass. He had no time to dodge, so he could only stop abruptly, half-turn his body, and once again use the dagger in his hand to block the incoming arrow.

His entire body, especially the dagger, began to emit a faint white glow.

In the next instant, the dagger met the iron arrow.

A sharp “ding” rang out, piercing the ears of the townsfolk like a needle, making everyone instinctively cover their ears.

The arrow was not knocked aside; the cast iron arrowhead shattered instantly, breaking into fragments that scattered in all directions.

The Mute Servant’s body shuddered violently, his entire arm going numb and weak. A sharp pain shot through the web of his hand, splitting it open and covering his hand in blood.

The dagger also scattered a large number of white light particles.

As the light particles streaked through the air, they left long, misty tails that quickly spread out, turning into thick white fog, seemingly very cold.

Faced with this strange phenomenon, the townsfolk who had just been shouting to catch The Mute Servant immediately fell silent, looking at The Mute Servant with awe in their eyes.

When they looked at Devon, their eyes were filled with respect. Although The Mute Servant was formidable, many had seen the blood streaming from his hand.