[Brothers, I can't take it anymore. I've had stomach problems all day, so I really can't finish this before midnight. I'll post one chapter now and make up for it during the day.]

The atmosphere in the Huanrong camp was peaceful and lively. The women were busy processing the sheepskins that had just been slaughtered, while the men roasted the sheep and ate heartily, occasionally cutting off a few pieces of meat for the laughing and playing children.

They have always lived off the labor of others and have no respect for food; some fatty meat is thrown everywhere.

Mu'erxiao, accompanied by his trusted confidants, sat on the high platform, eating meat and drinking wine heartily. Looking down at his tribesmen with satisfied expressions, he felt incredibly successful.

"This cup of wine is to the clan chief. If it weren't for the clan chief, the clansmen wouldn't be living such a good life now!" A burly man with a big belly held up a cup of wine on the right. The style of the wine cup in his hand was obviously made by a Chinese.

A proud look appeared on Mu'erxiao's face. Facts proved that he was more outstanding than the old clan chief. More than ten years ago, the clansmen were starving and had no clothes to wear.

It was he who led his people step by step to grow and prosper into what they are today!

He was also the one who single-handedly caused the tribe's strength to surge, making it one of the leading tribes among the Rong people.

His next step is to challenge for the throne and restore the Di-Rong tribe to its former glory.

Just as he was lost in his beautiful fantasy, the sound of rapid hoofbeats approached from afar.

"Chieftain...there are...there are enemies..."

A blood-covered tribesman stumbled into the village on horseback, but before he could finish speaking, he fell off his horse and never uttered a sound.

The camp was thrown into chaos, completely losing its previous peace and liveliness.

Mu'er stood up and shouted, "Don't panic! Women, quickly take the children and hide! Men, grab your weapons and prepare to fight!"

It is evident that he held a very high position in the hearts of his people. Under his command, his people visibly calmed down and acted in an orderly manner according to his instructions.

A short while later, only able-bodied young men remained in the camp, their weapons gleaming with a sharp, cold light.

Mu'erxiao looked at the brave and fierce figures of his clansmen and nodded in satisfaction. This was all his hard work!

"Clan members, mount your horses and follow me to see which fool is courting death!" Mu'erxiao's smile was hearty, carrying a hint of arrogance.

Despite his large belly, Mu'er was surprisingly agile and nimble, mounting his horse in one fluid motion, showcasing the skills of nomadic people.

"Giddy up!"

Muerxiao charged out of the tribe first, followed by his fellow tribesmen on horseback, the large crowd heading straight towards the direction from which the sound of horses' hooves could be heard.

On the other side.

"Oh ho, you've got some nerve, coming right to my doorstep?" The wicked husband, with his exceptional hearing, immediately burst into laughter.

His smile was followed by laughter from the Black Dragon Armored Army soldiers behind him, who stood in neat rows like black waves. Although they hadn't heard anything yet, they had no doubt about the wicked man's inhuman hearing.

"Brothers, give me some pressure later. Whoever tries to cheat or slack off and kills the fewest enemies will have their pay for the month canceled."

Seeing the group laughing so hard they were doubled over, the wicked husband immediately poured cold water on them.

To be honest, he is not particularly satisfied with the Black Dragon Armored Army yet. He needs to make their minds as cold as a blade so that he can use them to break through the enemy lines and influence the entire Qin army in the future.

Only in this way can we suppress all enemies!

Upon hearing this, the soldiers felt a chill in their hearts, and the smiles on their faces vanished instantly. Forfeiting a month's salary was too harsh. How could they go out to have fun during their days off?

"Whoosh!!"

The soldiers drew their swords, their eyes turning fierce. Cutting off someone's livelihood was an irreconcilable enmity; today, the Huan Rong must be eradicated according to the law.

Before long, the Huanrong people gradually emerged from the distance.

"Qin people?"

He caught a glimpse of surprise on the face of the man in black, then ordered his people to stop, rode out slowly, and looked as if he had something to say.

The wicked man was always decisive and believed that if you can take action, don't waste words. Instead of slowing down, he accelerated and charged towards him.

"Damn it, my people, teach these Qin soldiers a lesson!" Mu'erxiao was also furious when he saw this. He cursed the Qin soldiers for being so audacious, thinking that a mere thousand men could challenge the nearly thirty thousand people behind him.

As the two sides clashed, the great battle officially began.

In the instant of battle, the Huanrong were routed.

If viewed from the air, one would see the Black Dragon Armored Army, like a black dagger, instantly tearing through the formation of the Huan Rong.

"Vulnerable!"

The soldiers of the Black Dragon Armored Army all showed disdain. These Huan Rong people, who were no different from savages, were too weak. Not only did they not have any decent armor, but some of them were even holding something in their hands.

A pitchfork?

This can be used as a weapon?

It doesn't cause much harm, but it's extremely insulting.

Zhang Han, standing close to the wicked husband, complained repeatedly, "General, could you please not bring us out with you next time?"

"General, look!!"

Zhang Han's eyes narrowed sharply as he ducked to dodge the incoming pitchfork, then swiftly killed the Rong man with a backhand stroke. He exclaimed excitedly, "Who knows if this thing has been touched by that stuff? This is quite a surprise..."

The wicked man subconsciously glanced at the 'clothing' of the Huanrong people, which was not much more advanced than that of savages; their disheveled and dirty appearance was hard to describe.

"Terrifying! This thing is far more vicious than Old Zhu's Tetanus Blade!!"

Images from his past life's TV dramas uncontrollably flashed through his mind: Zhu Yuanzhang, still a bald monk, joined the rebel army and carved out an era with just a rusty, broken blade.

On second thought, a murderous intent began to fill his heart.

What kind of conditions are these? They're already holding a pitchfork and they still won't behave?

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