Chapter 2 Son of God

Under the sharp eyebrows, the light in those eyes became gloomy. He felt more and more wrong. As long as the king's troops pass through the canyons of the wilderness and mountains, it is a flat river in the far north grassland. Nothing can hinder the powerful riding with strong mobility. But now hundreds of thousands of people have waited for more than two hours. Such a delay is by no means the king's style. Is there a traffic jam on the road?

But on the grassland in the far north, who dares to stop the barbarian king and his God-given cavalry? Zaerhua stood first, holding the handle of the wolf's blade in his hand, and couldn't help sweating in his palm. He let the cold wind wrapped in sand and stone hit his face without moving at all. If something really happens on the king's road, I'm afraid that before the white wind comes down, the rest of the tribes will tear the China Sibu into pieces... After all, the status of the lord of the grassland is really eye-catching and hateful!

He turned his head and whispered to his own soldiers around him, "Go and transfer the warriors under my strong wind tent, quietly surround this river, and not let anyone enter or leave, especially the army!"

The warrior was ordered to retreat quietly. Zha Erhua watched him gallop and calmed down a little. He glanced at several Khan kings who had been waiting impatiently, as well as those delicate nobles, and knew that these people were eager for the defeat of the king. Although the king's expedition to the south was for millions of barbarians to safely survive this 50-year cold winter, it was an indisputable fact that these tribes were not united! Don't be afraid of natural disasters, man-made disasters are the most terrible!

Anyway, first transfer the army to control the situation. If these sweat kings have different intentions, they can be captured now. Zaerhua silently thought that his hand touched the cold knife of the wolf blade and wanted to shrink his hand back. But when I thought of the big shaman's sentence 'the only thing that can save you is the knife in your hand', I couldn't help holding it hard and feeling the cowhide lines on the handle of the knife sticking to the palm of my hand!

"Don't worry! The boy will definitely come back, and he will return with a great victory, full of grain, gold and silk. I already know that we can have a stable winter. How could Tengri God kill his children? The big shaman said angrily while sucking his nose. He put his hands in his sleeves, held them in his chest, and his turbid eyes stared at the black clouds above his head. His expression was pious and calm, really as if the messenger of God was praying to the gods.

Zha Erhua looked at him silently. The old man's words were always true or false, false, and unpredictable. He also said that there were only iron stones in God's chest and no heart. Now he said that God would not kill them, which was really confusing. But I can't believe that the big shaman prays solemnly to Tengri...

The big shaman sucked his nose, blinked his eyes, and scolded, "I got a cold in the winter. Is this going to tear down my old bone?" His head lowered and withdrew his eyes looking at the sky, but his nose came out of his nostrils like a reptile. The old man frowned, wiped his sleeve, raised his head again to look at the sky, and said, "Do I have to raise my head to not have a runny nose..."

Zerhua's rising confidence was instantly punctured like a balloon, and the shadow in her eyes became thicker and thicker... This old god stick is always so crazy. If the messenger of God was really this virtue, I guess he would have been blind when choosing a person...

A black armored scout quietly approached Zaerhua and said in a low voice, "General, I found that unidentified cavalry was moving this way, about 30,000 people!"

"Is it the king's cavalry?"

"No, my subordinates only dare to look at it from afar and dare not approach it, like the lion's teeth of the Azlan Department. I'm not sure!"

"Lion teeth riding and shooting?" Zha Erhua's eyes wide open in an instant, staring at the scout who was half kneeling on the ground. His wolf-like eyes glowed with cold light and glanced at the Great Khan King in the distance. The gloomy Khan King was extremely calm at this time, showing great patience and calmness.

Zerhua's uneasiness became stronger and stronger, and she said coldly, "All the 20,000 warriors in the gale tent were transferred out, and all the warriors in the slave tent were also dispatched to stop the cavalry. If it's the enemy, kill it directly, don't keep your hand!"

Does the Khan of the Azlan Department really want to take action when the Chinasi Department's vitality is seriously damaged on the day of the king's return? Zaerhua didn't dare to imagine the consequences. The king took away the vigorous horse and the thaya horse. There were only nearly a million old and weak women and children left in the Chinasium. Only the warriors under his strong wind tent and some slaves were allowed to go to fight. But his warriors are good at scouting and sneak attack tactics. In the face of lion teeth riding that can be compared with the vigorous riding, it is not enough. More than 100,000 slave warriors are just sheep... What would he think if the king came back and found that Chi Na Sibu had been washed with blood? Tens of thousands of warriors fought far away in the south. In the end, when they returned to their hometown, they found that only had been left with some corpses. What would they think? Zaerhua can't think about it any more. He hates that he is not a hero like Zhuo Ligetu, the god of war, otherwise he will jump up and cut off the heads of those who dare to offend the grassland emperor one by one...

Suddenly, there was a low horn trumpet sound from the wind in the south, which had a strong penetration in the roaring wind. The big shaman with his hands on the horse suddenly smiled: "My old man said that the boy will come back, right? Ha ha, I'm old, but I can still predict some things!"

Zha Erhua listened carefully. Sure enough, it was the sound of the horns when riding out, and her hanging heart was finally relieved. He did not forget the erdun Ketu Khan king. The old lion's dark eyes were shining, and his eyes narrowed and tried to look at the southern sky. It seems that he is also thinking about the whereabouts of the king, but I don't know if it's An's kindness...

The two teams sent by Zaerhua just now galloped back, waved the whip and roared: "The king is back and won a complete victory... The king is back and wins a complete victory..."

People who have been in the cold wind for several hours get up. Whether they can survive this winter depends on whether the king can win. In the face of the white hair wind, which is doomed to be a disaster this year, the inter-tribal war is meaningless, because in front of the white hair wind, no matter the big tribes and small tribes, whether nobles or slaves, are equal! That's the anger of the gods! So we can only unite to put our hopes on the rich south and grab the grain, gold, utensils, silk... Only in this way can we survive this winter. This summer's drought has damaged the vitality of the grassland. There is no other way but the Southern Expedition...

Zerhua turned around and nodded to the big shaman and said, "The noble big shaman is still the eyes of the Tengri god. You can see places that ordinary people can't see and predict what we don't know. You are the living prophet of my barbarians, and the king is really back..."< /P>

The old man waved his hand and said with a smile, "Don't put a high hat on my old man. I'm not the eyes of the Tengri God. If I had such a god, I would have been taken by the Tengri God to enjoy the blessings... This time, the Bori Post's trip to the south is nothing more than victory and defeat. Choose one or the better one. That's it. In fact, I didn't know whether I won or not just now, guessed randomly, guessed randomly..."

There is a black line on the forehead of the flower——

"A person who is too excellent will die early. My old man can live so long because he is so incompetent that Tengri is too lazy to take my rotten bone to enjoy happiness in heaven. For example, the first generation of Chinasi's ancestors founded the Chinasi Department. What a great achievement, so the ancestor died before the age of 40, and Zhuo Ligetu Chinasi, the god of war, also died at the age of 42. Even the eldest son of Bo Ritu, Mondulatu Chinasi, was drunk in his milk at the age of seven and dared to ride at the age of eight. Lie Ma, killed a wolf at the age of 11, and dared to kill thousands of captains with a wolf blade knife at the age of 15... Such an outstanding young man was bitten to death by the wolves only lived to 18 years old... If Monduratus is still alive, Zha Erhua, can you guarantee that he can beat him who made a wolf blade like you? The big shaman said slowly, picked up a white eagle's eyebrow and looked at Zaerhua.

"I can't!" Zarhua said honestly. Mondulatu Chinas, he knows this person. If it hadn't been for the early death of the king's eldest son and his peers, I'm afraid that the name 'Chinasi's Wolf Teeth' would not have fallen on his head. Unfortunately, he died too early and too early. That's what God's jealous of talents means. He remembered that when the incomplete body of Mondurathu was found, the king was depressed for two months before he recovered. After that, no one dared to mention Mondulatou in front of the king. The name seemed to be banned. Anyone who dared to mention it will face the king's anger head-on... Because at that time Rumor has it that the king killed the Lanmzabu Khan of the Gazaate and destroyed nearly half a million people, which made the gods dissatisfied. God's anger led to the sudden death of Monduratu as a punishment...

The big shaman said leisurely, "There is never a shortage of heroes on the grassland. Heroes are sleeping quietly under every grassroots, hehe..."

The sound of the horn in the distance became clearer and louder. Zaerhua took a deep breath and roared, "All of them disembark and welcome the king!"

At this time, the nobles did not dare to show the dissatisfaction on their faces. They disemboted one after another, humbly lowered their heads and arrogantly. Even several Khan kings got off their horses and stood up, and they were unruly and unruly. After all, he is the lord of Chi Nasi and the emperor of the grassland. No one dares to easily disobey his glory.

Between the dim yellow sky and earth in the south, a row of black shadows rushed out. The heavy cavalry galloped at high speed, and the heavy horseshoes stamped on the ground. The whole earth was trembling. The white wolf flag fluttered above the cavalry's head and rolled up thousands of waves, which was extraordinary. The nobles' horses scratched their hooves uneasily and hissed in a low voice, as if they were of great fear. The slaves came forward to take the reins, comforted the horses, and calmed them down.

King Tatamu Khan of Kuma quietly approached King Erdun Ketu and whispered, "The vigorous ride is so fast. Shall we retreat..."

The lion-like Erdun Ketu Khan king was silent for a moment and said in a low voice, "It's useless to retreat. Looking at this momentum, the Chinasi Department won... I originally planned that if the Chinasi Department lost, I would use the lion's tooth to destroy the Chinas Department, and the rest of our parts divided the cattle and sheep grain population of Chinassi. Winter. My lion tooth riding and shooting are already on the way, but unfortunately, I don't want my warrior to fight with such a magnificent horse, and I can only withdraw the army!" With that, he recruited his guard warrior and whispered a few words, and the warrior had to retreat.

King Tatamu Khan's fat face was full of frightened expression and stammered, "Er Dun Ketu... You old lion, you have such a calculation. If the Chinasi Department loses and loses the vigorous riding, will your lion tooth ridden kill all the nobles here... Swallow all the tribes, and from then on, you are the only Azlan clan in the far north grassland?

King Erdun Ketu Khan ignored him, but looked at the cavalry like a dark arrow with a blank face. His eyes were dark and gloomy, and he couldn't see what he was thinking...

Ta Tamu muttered something in a low voice and quietly moved away, trying to stay away from this old lion...

The magnificent iron horse rushed to his eyes in an instant. The leading dark horse hissed, the man on the horse raised the whip high, and immediately someone blew the horn. The well-trained horse braked its iron hooves in the yellow dust, and the whole brigade stopped in the Mercedes-Benz, but it was not chaotic at all. The smoke and dust stepped up by the horse team swept over with the wind, and the Khan king and the nobles pulled up their command to stand in front of them. Zaerhua didn't dare to stop it. He couldn't see anything clearly in the smoke and dust. He wanted to prevent evil-minded people from attacking the king. His heart jumped, his hand holding the knife tightened, and half of the snowy wolf blade came out of the sheath.

He wanted to step forward and stand between the nobles and the cavalry, but felt a hand holding his wrist. Zaerhua was conceited, but the man slowly exerted his strength and pressed his knife back into the sheath.

He turned his head and found that it was the wrinkled face of the big shaman. The thin old man, almost 70 years old, actually had such strength. His thin fingers pinched the flowery wrist, like an iron hoop tightly wrapped around it. The shaman let go of his hand and said calmly, "Don't mess up, don't panic. It's our king who is back!" Bo Ri Tie was seriously injured. Don't say anything. Let everyone kneel down and bow their heads. Don't let too many people notice the king's injury..."

Zarhua couldn't take care of the choking smoke and dust, took a deep breath and roared, "It's our king who is back. The people of Tengri, kneel down and dedicate all your loyalty to the people appointed by the gods!"

Everyone knelt obed obediently, and so did those nobles. Although they were still reluctant, the momentum of riding was too domineering. They were deeply afraid of such a god-like warrior in their hearts. Lowering their heads to avoid the awe-inspiring momentum could make them feel better.

The smoke and dust settled down, and all the horses had disembowed, pulling the reins and half kneeling down. The warrior on the front black horse got off his horse, the untreated wolf skin armor rushed in the wind, his gray hair danced in the wind, and his amber eyes glanced majestically at the hundreds of people kneeling at his feet. Although he galloped for nearly a month, the warrior did not look tired and his expression was extremely calm. He didn't say a word, slowly stepped forward, looked at the incredible Zaerhua and rugged bones, and his dry and bloody lips twisted a faint smile.

Zarhua's body seemed to be frozen, and she took two steps mechanically. Her green eyes were filled with a layer of fog, and the expression on her face was extremely sad. He choked and said, "King, your arm...your arm..." How could he not see that the king was obviously missing a left arm, the whole left shoulder was empty, and the wolf skin armor sleeves rolled up wantonly... Is this the king who returned from the war?

He quickly took off his shoulder and put it on the king's shoulder, covering the king's body, so that no one would see the king's body at this time! Then he also knelt down with a wolf blade, allowing tears to flow in his green eyes.

The surroundings suddenly calmed down, and no one whispered to each other. Everyone bowed their heads and knelt down, their hair scattered on the grass, worshipping devoutly, except for the roaring wind and sighing in a low voice. Tens of thousands of vigorous riding warriors were mixed with the smell of rust and bloody corruption, and the welcome team swept by the wind. Everyone couldn't help trembling when they smelled this suffocating smell... This is the strongest cavalry of the barbarian clan. They are full of the blood of the enemy, and they are killing on the battlefield. If you don't die, they are a nightmare in the hearts of all those who dare to be their enemies...

Nearly 200,000 people knelt down, and only the king stood in the dim yellow world. The roaring cold wind seems to bypass him, and he is the only existence in the world!

At this time, the big shaman came out, and his thin body seemed to be blown down by the wind at any time, but his steps were extremely steady. Behind him, two slaves carried a tied ram. The sheep's dark eyes were closed, and its pink nose flucled violently in the cold wind. The great shaman nodded to the king and said in an extremely solemn voice, "Fools congratulate the king on his victory. God bless millions of people of our barbarians. This barbaric land can live a happy life and not fall into the Jedi. Let the fool return to pray for the king's victory with this humble body instead of the decree of the god.

The king's amber eyes flashed for a moment, without saying a word, and knelt down on one knee to the great shaman. He did not kneel down on his knees like these Khan king nobles or slaves, and his foreheads were close to the earth. He knelt on one knee, but his waist was straight, his face was raised, his dark and old face was facing the big shaman, and his eyes were slowly closed.

The big shaman pulled out the silver dagger around his waist and stroked the bright blade of the dagger with his fingers. In an instant, the sharp blade of the dagger was dyed red by fine blood, and then he danced with the dagger, sometimes raising the dagger to the top of his head, and sometimes holding it with his hand, eager to plunge in from his chest. His thin and fragile body became extremely dexterous at this time, and his waist was much softer. His gorgeous sacrificial robe was blown by the wind, like flying on the mural. In the vast world, only the big shaman stood and danced alone, and nearly 200,000 people knelt down on the river. They were like kneeling to the god in their hearts, or the god in their hearts was such a thin old man dancing with a silver dagger...

I don't know how long it took, but the big shaman's breathing was still stable. His bare feet were rubbed and bleeding by the sandstones. As he danced, the blood on the soles of his feet was dripping. But he seemed to be unaware of the pain and still danced around the king. His dancing steps became more and more gorgeous, and his movements became more and more and more passionate. From a distance, who would believe that this is an old man who is almost 70 years old dancing?

The big shaman's dance steps finally stopped, and he stood facing the king again, with his waist straight. The blood stains at the bottom of his feet left a circle beside the king. Just now, he was dancing around the king, depicting such a perfect circle with a radius of more than two meters, and the king is the center of this circle and the center of this vast world!

The big shaman shouted and grabbed the ram held in the hands of the two slaves with his left hand. He picked up hundreds of pounds of ram with his thin arms alone. Such strength can't even be done by young and strong middle-aged people! But the big shaman lifted a ram with one hand and raised it above the king's head like that! Zha Erhua secretly looked up at the usually crazy old man. From the moment he danced, he knew that he had never underestimated this unattractive and even a little sloppy and annoying old man!

The ram seemed to know what fate it was going to face, and suddenly hissed loudly. Except for the wind, the whole world was the hiss of the ram. The big shaman looked up at the ram, and then the dagger of his right hand suddenly pierced the ram's heart. The scarlet blood gushed out and splashed on the king's head, flowing down the king's hair, cheeks, and wolf skin armor. He looked like a blood man. The big shaman silently pulled back the dagger, held the ram with both hands, let the blood fall, and poured the king red all over, like a demon.

The hissing of the sheep weakened, and life quickly passed from the body. It was held in mid-air as a sacrifice. For the sheep raised to kill the meat and peeling, its fate is really different, but no one thinks it is ridiculous. In fact, no one can laugh. This is a small human being in this vast land. The most devout salute to Tengri.

The two slaves knelt down and approached the blood circle with their knees. At each step, they lowered their heads and kissed the ground, little by little, carefully approaching the big shaman holding the sheep. In the eyes of their humble slaves, this is already a miracle. The slave trembled and took the dead sheep from the great shaman, and then carefully withdrew.

The big shaman stretched out a finger, stained some blood on the king's forehead, and then drew some strange symbols along his forehead and said something. Both of them closed their eyes extremely devoutly. In this world, in the roaring wind, under the worship of countless people, they carried out the most fishy, wild and ancient ceremony!

When the heroes on the grassland went out or returned, they all carried out such a ceremony! Generation after generation, there is no shortage of heroes on the grassland, and a quiet soul sleeps under every grassroots.

Finally, the shaman withdrew his hand, held the king's forehead, and kissed it slowly, representing the highest protection and grace of the gods, and the blessing from the gods of the barbarians.

The bloody king opened his eyes, stood up, looked at the subjects kneeling at his feet, and roared in a low voice. Then countless violent roars sounded from all directions: "Son of God, Son of God...!"

The vast northern grassland is full of such loud and arrogant screams. This is the world of barbarians, and this is the most fishy barbarians.