ENG
An army of bows carved with loong,
The roars of shafts a frightening song.
Warring on, their archery glows,
And with tactics their glory flows.
In the days when the Kingdom of Flowing Sands warred against the Fuban, there was a company of warriors known as the Four-Feathered Army. Skilled archers they were, one and all, armed with repeating crossbows and great shafts fletched with four feathers, capable of piercing even the strongest iron. Great was the joy of these soldiers when the weapons were placed into their hands, for they believed that with their hard-earned skills and such mighty tools of war, victory would be swiftly theirs.
As darkness fell, the soldiers gathered to discuss the strategies they would employ. A veteran said, "Shoot its eyes to blind it, and the bug won't be able to hit us." A young one said, "Shoot its heart to stop its breath, and the creature will perish." A brave one said, "Shoot its legs to cripple it, and let it wait for death." Long they debated, each seeking to sway the others, but none could be swayed. At last, they resolved to each follow their own strategy and see which would prevail on the field.
The next day, the Four-Feathered Army lined up in neat rows. At the given signal, a storm of arrows was released. Yet each archer aimed as they judged best, and not a single shaft found its mark in the same place as another.
The hide of the Fuban was so thick that the rain of arrows served only to vex the creature. In the end, the valiant soldiers were scattered and put to flight.
Alas, minds divided need not always agree, yet the strength of one alone has its limits. In unity lies true strength, and only with a single purpose can the greatest deeds be accomplished. A fellowship divided against itself cannot endure, but is ever doomed to ruin.
This story takes place during a war between the Kingdom of Flowing Sands and a foe called the Fuban. On the side of the kingdom was a unit called the Four-Feathered Army, a company of expert archers armed with repeating crossbows and long shafts fletched with four feathers. These shafts were strong enough to pierce iron, and the soldiers were proud and confident that such weapons, combined with their skill, would win them quick victories.
The night before a battle the archers met to plan their tactics. Three leaders spoke for different approaches: a veteran who wanted them to aim for the creature’s eyes to blind it, a young soldier who argued for shooting the heart to kill it outright, and a brave fighter who said crippling its legs would leave it to die later. Each believed his method was the right one for success.
They argued long, but none convinced the others. Rather than pick a single plan or compromise, they decided to test their theories by each following his own approach during the fight. They thought their individual skill and chosen target would show which tactic was best.
When the battle came, the Four-Feathered Army fired a huge volley of arrows, but every archer aimed at a different target. No group of shots hit the same place, so there was no concentrated damage. The Fuban’s hide was so thick that the scattered arrows only annoyed it; the attack failed to subdue or kill the enemy, and the archers were driven off and scattered.
The outcome is explicit: lack of unity cost them the battle. The text’s clear implication is that divided minds and conflicting aims weaken a group; without a single purpose and coordinated action, even skilled fighters with powerful weapons can be defeated. A fellowship split against itself cannot endure and is likely to fail.