Perhaps they felt that fighting for a piece of land was a bit childish, so they never clashed with each other again after the leaves of the big tree turned yellow.
In the following year, Nastu rode a horse and ran up a tree.
Aokte was shooting arrows quietly beside him, and arrow after arrow flew out of his hand.
Sometimes when the two of them are in the mood, they have a big fight.
From autumn to winter to summer.
At that time, no one knew that they had known each other for a year. In the eyes of outsiders, their relationship was not deep, just that of a Khan and his subordinates.
This is also the reason why Nastu chose Aokete as an undercover agent.
After getting to know Abru, Nastu started to talk more.
Abru really could talk, and once he even talked Nastu to sleep.
Several war-weary leaders already knew his idea and sat quietly by.
Although they did not want to start another war, the last three points still made them frown.
Many people have heard these words for the first time in their lives.
What else can they do if they don't fight?
Herding sheep? Walking horses? Barbecue?
Without women to serve as their slaves, are they just waiting to get rotten?
Under the pressure from Nastu, they expressed their dissatisfaction with each other with their eyes. No one spoke, just waiting for the first person to speak.
"Speak." Nastu tapped the table with his index finger.
He hates people who flirt with each other and nag about things the most. What's the point of having a mouth?
Suddenly, a sneer was heard in the air, and a fat man said:
"If we don't fight, will we still be able to hold swords in a few years? The war horses that should have been galloping across the grasslands will probably be fat by then."
"Can people like these still be called grassland people? What's the difference between them and those weak men in the Central Plains?"
The raging fire in his eyes seemed to set the entire tent on fire and burn everyone to death.
"Great Khan, are you going to lead our entire tribe to death?"
If the weapon had not been taken away before entering the tent, this man would probably be standing in the middle of the tent pointing the knife at Nastu, instead of sitting on the ground and spitting on the table next to him.
Nastu adjusted back to his original sitting position and said in a deep voice:
"You mean a true grassland person is someone who turns the blade he's sharpened for years against his own people?"
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