Fight
When the situation was tense, suddenly, an old man shouted loudly, stopping the moving clouds.
"That's enough!"
The aging grassland king slowly stood up from the first seat, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Today's ceremony is not the place for you to engage in intrigue."
The old Khan's voice turned cold. "According to the rituals. Anyone who says anything more is disrespecting our ancestors."
These words were so weighty that even Yao Qi didn't dare to say anything else.
The Tiger Lord glanced at Yao Qi with pride, raised his hand and waved, saying in a loud voice: "Continue the ritual."
At the Tiger Lord's command, two Tiger soldiers escorted the blood-stained sacrifice onto the altar.
"Go!" A strong man kicked the sacrifice impatiently.
The sacrifice groaned, barely able to stand up, but fell heavily again. The clanking of the chains was particularly harsh in the silent sacrificial arena.
The man gritted his teeth and tried to stand up, but the Tiger Tribe soldier behind him grabbed his shoulders and dragged him forward. The rough ground rubbed his body and caused bleeding, leaving a trail of bright red blood.
The surrounding barbarian warriors laughed and said, "Is this the man who killed so many of our brothers?!"
"Behold, the hero of Nanfu!"
"I can't even crawl anymore!"
Finally, he was dragged to the altar. A soldier from the Tiger Tribe shouted and fiercely kicked the man in the knee: "Kneel down!"
Two swordsmen immediately stepped forward and dragged out several black iron chains from both sides of the altar. The ends of these chains were connected to ground hooks, and several chains nailed the sacrifice to the center of the altar from all directions, like livestock waiting to be slaughtered.
The man struggled to get up, but the chains immediately tightened, making a sharp sound. The chains pulled his body in different directions, forcing him to crawl on the ground in a desperate state, like a nailed beast.
The surrounding barbarian warriors burst into laughter again.
"You fucking dog, you've got this day!"
"Skin him! Skin him and feed him to the wolves! Avenge our brothers!!"
The Tiger Lord stood at the edge of the platform and spoke in a voice that echoed for miles: "Xiao Jingyuan, commander-in-chief of the Southern Army. In the Battle of Tonghe, eight thousand brave warriors perished in the wilderness. In the Battle of Baishan, Prince Wuyan was killed by his hands. There are countless other things like this. He has committed sins against heaven, and his karma is as deep as an abyss."
He suddenly drew the sword from his waist and raised it high: "Today, this thief confesses his crime here. All the tribes of the grassland will kill him and offer sacrifice to the heavens. Blood debt will be repaid with blood."
Flags fluttered in all directions, and the barbarian warriors shouted in unison, their voices as loud as thunder.
"God bless Wang Khan, God bless the grasslands!!"
Suddenly, the deep and old voice came out again from the throne: "Enough——"
The drums stopped beating, the flags stood still, and the old Khan slowly stood up and said, "I have come in person."
King Khan ascended the altar, walked to the edge of the altar, and looked down at Xiao Jingyuan who was bound by iron chains.
He leaned over and looked at the blood-stained face with a complicated look in his eyes.
"I have traversed the grasslands my entire life, sweeping away powerful enemies and destroying thousands of camps and tents. But now, there is no one who can stand up to me."
The old man sighed softly, "I've been bored...for so many years."
The old voice carried an indescribable loneliness: "If only you had been born thirty years earlier. When I was twenty, if I had a rival like you, how wonderful it would have been."
The Khan suddenly burst into laughter, his laughter desolate and tragic: "But I am old, and you are still so young. Even if I die, I will not be at peace."
The Khan raised his old hand slightly, and the executioner behind him immediately stepped forward and respectfully handed him a black gold sword.
King Khan's gaze fell on Xiao Jingyuan, and his voice was as low as sand: "The lonely king will not live for a few days. After thinking about it, it is best to take you away."
He walked forward step by step, his figure was thin, but he was as heavy as a mountain. "Let's go, accompany me to hell."
The wind died down on the altar, and everything was as silent as death.
But at this moment, the prisoner covered in blood suddenly smiled.
He smiled lightly: "Originally, you had a chance."
Xiao Jingyuan raised his eyes, like sarcasm, but also like pity: "But now, you are too close to me."
The Khan paused and frowned slightly.
The next moment, a strange array of light emerged from under Xiao Jingyuan's body, blood light burst out, and ink-like spiritual patterns spread on the ground, swallowing up in all directions!
With Xiao Jingyuan as the core, the formation light was like waves within a radius of fifty steps. Wherever it reached, the soldiers fell to the ground and screamed, as if their souls were torn apart and they were in unbearable pain.
The Khan covered his chest and groaned. The heroic lord who once swept across the vast grassland let out a suppressed roar of pain.
Blood spurted from his mouth and spilled onto the altar.
Xiao Jingyuan also spit out blood, his face pale as paper: "You are right, I am young, this injury may not necessarily be fatal. But you——"
The young man jokingly scoffed, "Maybe I really have to go first."
"Protect Wang Khan!" A shocking roar resounded through the sky.
The Khan's guards quickly approached, only to be knocked off their feet by the aftermath of the slaughter. Some were bleeding from their noses and mouths, while others, eyes red, lay wailing on the ground. The entire altar was like a battlefield.
A few formation masters quickly stepped forward and began to try to break the formation.
The barbarian soldiers around were still in shock, their weapons drawn, and the tribes on the grassland were in uproar.
The Tiger Tribe's personal guards wanted to rush to the altar, but were stopped before they could get close.
Hundreds of Wolf Tribe soldiers were standing with sharp blades. Yao Qi stepped out from among them, his eyes as cold as a blade: "Tiger Lord, you have done a good job in offering the captives."
The Tiger Lord's face turned pale, and he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. "Yao Qi, what do you mean? The Khan was attacked, and instead of coming to his aid, you stopped us?"
"Rescue?" Yao Qi sneered, "Not necessarily? Your captives are in a killing formation, and you, the mighty Tiger Lord, are completely unaware? Tiger Lord, are you stupid, or do you have ulterior motives?"
As soon as these words were spoken, all the tribes were in an uproar.
A cold light flashed in the Tiger Lord's eyes, and he drew his sword half an inch, shouting sternly: "My tribes on the grassland are not good at formations. Yao Qi - stop taking advantage of this issue, confusing right and wrong, and going too far!"
Yao Qi laughed heartily upon hearing this: "Whether it is black or white, the brothers present here on the grassland can tell for themselves. Today, my Wolf Tribe will first clean up the mess on behalf of the grassland."
The Wolf Tribe's personal soldiers rushed forward in a murderous manner.
As the situation became tense, a man calmly stepped out from the Tiger Tribe. Wen Congren spoke calmly, but each word was pointed: "Don't forget—Khan's personal order: 'Whoever kills Xiao Jingyuan will be king.'"
He paused, then looked at Yao Qi, his eyes as deep and calm as water. "Now, the Khan is seriously injured and still unconscious, but someone is impatiently drawing his sword—to disrupt the king's orders."
Wen Congren turned to look at the Tiger Lord and spoke in a sharp voice, "My Lord Tiger Lord, the Khan's life is at stake. To fight again at this moment would be tantamount to rebellion. Since someone has taken the initiative to attack, why not kill him to vindicate the ritual?"
When Tiger Lord saw Wen Congren coming out, his face instantly turned pale and he shouted angrily: "Who let you out!"
This shout was filled with anger and a bit of panic.
What Wen Congren said was indeed reasonable and very inflammatory, but he was wrong.
Wen Congren is a hard-working person.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the sound of the wind on the grassland seemed to grow a little colder in an instant.
Yao Qi really didn't miss this flaw. He clapped his hands and sneered, "I remember not long ago, the Tiger Lord said in front of his tribe that Wen Congren was a heretic taken in by my Wolf Tribe, a traitor and a spy. But now, this 'spy' has transformed himself into a distinguished guest of the Tiger Tribe."
He stepped closer and closer: "I have to ask one thing - who is the one who is betraying his own people?"
These words were extremely hurtful.
The eyes of the generals of various tribes have begun to wander between the two, and some of the troops who are suspicious of the Tiger Lord have even quietly placed their hands on the hilt of the sword.
The Tiger Lord's eyebrows twitched, and he could no longer maintain his composure.
Under the altar, the noise was boiling and the atmosphere was as hot as fire.
Ren Xuan narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze moving back and forth between Wen Congren and Yao Qi.
How could Wen Congren, such a wise man, reveal his identity at this time and do such a foolish thing? Looking at Yao Qi's reaction, he handled it calmly, without the slightest surprise.
Ren Xuan's heart trembled, and there was only one conclusion - Wen Congren did it on purpose.
This drama, from beginning to end, was a trap set for the Tiger Master.
Ren Xuan raised his eyes and looked at the Tiger Master——
His face had turned ashen, his lips were trembling, and the veins in his hand holding the knife were visible, but he couldn't utter a word.
He couldn't distance himself from Wen Congren.
Even the current situation seems more like he was being used by someone, causing the Khan to suffer heavy damage.
If he took a step back, it would be tantamount to admitting that the Tiger Tribe's surrender of prisoners was a scam.
If he insisted on arguing, he would be convicted of collusion with the perpetrators.
The Tiger Master roared.
He had no way out and could only follow Wen Congren's advice of "diverting the trouble to others", make the best of a bad situation and take a gamble.
The Tiger Lord roared like thunder: "Yao Qi is rebelling, disrupting the sacrificial rites, and plotting evil—capture him!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Tiger Tribe's personal soldiers rushed out like a tide, their blades sharp.
This is the Tiger Tribe's territory, his home turf.
The Tiger Lord's face was grim, and he shouted coldly, "What's the point of being a king on the grassland? He is only the one with the strongest soldiers and horses!"
The wolf army's formation also changed suddenly, bowstrings rang, and sharp blades were unsheathed.
Yao Qi laughed heartily upon hearing this: "Well said! The one with the strongest soldiers and horses will win. Today, I will let you know who has the stronger soldiers!!"
The wind was howling, the flags were fluttering, and the murderous aura was overwhelming.
The cry of killing arose, and the family turned against each other.
Some people shouted "Tiger tribe is doing this!" and some people roared "Wolf leader is rebelling against the king!"
Blood and fire intertwined, the most sacred ceremony of the grassland royal court turned into a Shura training ground with mountains of corpses and seas of blood in an instant.
The originally sacred altar was stained red with blood, and corpses were piled up layer upon layer, some were still twitching, and some were already stiff.
New forces continue to join the chaos.
The initial battle between the two armies instantly devolved into a multi-pronged melee. Soldiers from all factions were furious, killing anyone they saw without distinguishing friend from foe.
Blood formed streams and flowed between the stones of the altar. Broken limbs and arms were everywhere.
At this moment, there is no faith, no ancestral spirits, only the most naked murderous intent and madness.
The blood mist had not yet dissipated when a figure slowly stood up on the altar.
The barbarian formation master outside the formation was the first to cry out in surprise: "It's the king! Wang Khan is still alive!"
The old man did not walk out of the center of the sacrificial formation. Instead, he staggered a few steps and turned back to pick up the black gold sword he had left behind.
The king who had ruled the grassland for decades stood on the top of the platform and watched coldly as his people killed each other.
The next moment, spiritual power surged beside the old man, and slowly condensed into a red-gold longbow.
The string is drawn. The arrow is released.
The sound of breaking wind is like a startled wild goose flying through the sky, and the sound of breaking armor is like the long cry of tearing silk.
A single arrow pierced through the Tiger Lord's layers of iron armor. The arrow, carrying immense force, pinned him to death on the vermilion pillar beneath the altar, cracking the iron pillar.
"Puff!" Tiger Lord spurted blood from his mouth and looked down at the golden arrow on his chest in disbelief. He wanted to say something, but all he could make was a hoarse gasp.
The whole audience fell silent.
The soldiers knelt down one after another, and even the two sides who were fighting involuntarily dropped their weapons.
One arrow, and the outcome is decided.
The Tiger Lord's body was hung on the pillar of the altar, blood flowed down his armor, staining the stone steps under his feet red.
The Khan stood on the high platform, looking down at the Tiger Lord with a look of stern contempt in his eyes.
No matter if it was Yao Qi who set up the trap or Tiger Lord was schemed against by someone, such a person has no qualifications and cannot be king.
As for Yao Qi, his biggest problem is that he is too close to Gan Ren.
As Wang Khan, he had to ensure that this was not a plot set by Yao Qi and Wen Congren against the Tiger Lord.
The new king of the grassland cannot be a dog that harms people.
The Khan slowly turned around and his eyes fell on Yao Qi. The Wolf Tribe leader was kneeling on one knee, his head bowed, his expression awkward.
He spoke slowly, his voice dry but clear, like wildfire passing through dry bones: "Yao Qi, I said that whoever kills Xiao Jingyuan will be the king."
"Now, I will change it for you."
"Kill all the dry men here and you will be the new king."
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