Five

Bahang knew who it was, and it seemed that Mengle Huoer was waiting for him. Bahang took off his helmet and nodded in greeting

He drew his bow, and a broken arrow grazed the edge of the leather shield, piercing through the eye of a charging wolf. His blood boiled, and the Bone Dragon seemed to sense its master's killing intent, accelerating once more

As Bahang approached the White Wolf Brigade, not a single wolf cavalryman obstructed him; instead, they cleared the way for him. The remnants of the Flying Tiger Camp had already retreated, and the northern warriors who had completed the massacre no longer pursued, retreating leisurely. Bahang came here solely to find Asule

"Do not die in Hanzhou," he said softly, "you still want to be the madman who saves the world"

That is the pride of Qingyang, the blood of bronze, second only to the 'golden blood' of the Xun Wang on the grasslands. Mengle Huo'er sighed softly, "When I was young, I longed to witness the berserk warriors slaughtering among millions, to see what remarkable gifts the Panbatian God bestowed upon the Pasur family. Unfortunately, at that time, King Qindahan was still alive, and I was too young to dare challenge his authority in the Northern Capital."

The Pasul family has fallen into decline, said Meng Lehuo as he rested the bronze axe on his shoulder

The morning sunlight streamed through the window panes, illuminating his eyes, and he felt an ominous premonition

On the battlefield of the Flying Tiger Camp and the White Wolf Brigade in the distance, an old man and his grandson are fighting fiercely, while thousands of wolves howl wildly at the sky

Not far away, he could hardly believe what he was witnessing. A figure moving at high speed sliced through the heart of the White Wolf Brigade like a blade. In one hand, he wielded a five-foot-long saber, and in the other, a broad heavy sword, spinning like a windmill. The giant wolves before him recoiled in terror, as if warhorses had encountered a giant wolf, but it was too late. The man's speed was akin to the shadow of the sun racing across the earth; the giant wolves he targeted could not escape. When one wolf, unable to endure any longer, attempted to counterattack, the man leaped suddenly, reaching a height of three men. With a single downward strike, he cleaved the wolf's skull and its master in half. Just like warhorses encountering a giant wolf, they recoiled in fear, but it was too late. The man's speed was akin to the shadow of the sun racing across the earth; the giant wolves he targeted could not escape. When one wolf, unable to endure any longer, attempted to counterattack, the man leaped suddenly, reaching a height of three men. With a single downward strike, he cleaved the wolf's skull and its master in half.

The wolf cavalry raised their leather shields, similarly clearing the way. Before Bu Hala could comprehend the purpose of this action, he saw, within the beast-like wolf cavalry's camp, silver-white hair fluttering in the wind, cold and fierce eagle eyes flashing. Tens of thousands of arrows were densely embedded in the ground, and hundreds of longbows were drawn. Before the ghost archers, there remained only the final layer of defense, a fragile crane-wing formation, which would be easily torn apart during a cavalry charge. However, when paired with the arrows of the feathered people, it became the strongest. The synchronized twang of the strings resonated like thunder in Bu Hala's mind, as the wings of the crane spread wide, projecting white, lethal feathers.

Asule held the Shadow Moon in a reverse grip and retreated rapidly, while the wolf cavalry cheered wildly.

What are you waiting for? You cannot kill me. I still have prisoners of war to interrogate. Menglehuo waved his hand and leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed

Is Danyan giving me this opportunity?" Bu Hualu drew the Minghai bird arrow, placed it on the string, and shot it into the air. This was the signal for attack, and the ghost archers launched the first wave of arrows towards the White Wolf Regiment.

The arrow from Bukhara could not be released, as Mengle Huor blocked Asule in front of him, casting a cold glance towards the direction of Bukhara

Hudu Luhan was taken aback

"Therefore, I will not die yet." Shan Bikun slowly closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted

No one dares to approach that person, as blood blossoms bloom and wither around him, amidst the thick stench of blood, he howls hoarsely.

In the midst of the chaotic battle, the Flying Tigers valiantly fought to carve out a path for themselves, with only one hundred and fifty paces remaining to reach effective range. One hundred and fifty paces is merely a stone's throw away, and Huala hoped that he was now a sharp arrow.

"Imad, Ghulal, Nagor Hongjia, this is the blood of my ancestors"

The feathered archers were completely unaffected by the charging momentum of the ghost bows. They began their training from a young age, repeatedly drawing their bows under the sunlight every day, never blinking. Their muscles were coordinated to achieve the best state for drawing the bow. They were trained to be the mechanisms of archery, and their experience taught them that rapid firing was essential for survival on the battlefield. Even when the enemy's warhorses charged within a mere step, an elite feathered archer would not draw a sword, but would instinctively retrieve the next arrow from the ground. They were trained to be the mechanisms of archery, and their experience taught them that rapid firing was essential for survival on the battlefield. Even when the enemy's warhorses charged within a mere step, an elite feathered archer would not draw a sword, but would instinctively retrieve the next arrow from the ground.

Asule lay across the knees of an old man, who was seated in a chair, with the banner of the White Night Grey Wolf unfurled behind him

No, that is not a madman, but the noble berserker of the Pasul family, your sister's son said Mongle Huoer

As Hudu Luhan gazed out, he could only see a pair of blood-red eyes resembling those of a ferocious beast and a face drenched in blood

Mengle Huor opened his mouth and smiled silently, "Yes, he is the child of my most beloved daughter Lemo, my Lemo, the most beautiful flower of the northern grasslands. Yet I have no choice but to let her marry my enemy, in exchange for her father's retreat..."

The first wave of arrows from the ghost bow was blocked by the wolf cavalry using their leather shields, which were exceptionally tough, made from the hides of northern wild yaks. The giant wolves struck by the feathered arrows did not fall; their massive bodies and thick fur allowed them to withstand these dangerous weapons. The copper poison from the armor-piercing arrows was not immediately fatal, but would eventually lead to bad blood.

He dismounted without hesitation and proceeded on foot. Speed was of the essence at this moment, but riding on horseback would make him a target. He ran, drawing his bow with all his might, while the ghost archers rushed past him, shielding him behind the horse. The ghost archers understood their leader's intention; this was the moment for them to clear the final path for him, needing only to advance another one hundred steps, perhaps eighty steps.

"The sky is blue, what do you think?" Meng Lehuo said淡淡地.

The cavalry from the northern front is rushing to reinforce this position, forming a pincer movement from both the front and the rear. Buhala is only three hundred steps away from the White Night Wolf Flag, and he can vaguely see Menglehuo surrounded by his guards, engaging in a fierce battle with Asule, his entire focus concentrated on the large axe in his hand, unaware of the impending threat posed by the approaching ghost bow. This is an excellent opportunity; Buhala feels the forty-nine arrows on his back writhing like venomous snakes.

Huduluhan slowly lowered his bow, throwing both the bow and the arrows to the ground, "That child looks very dangerous; we should not leave him behind"

"You are far inferior to King Qindahan, do you even deserve to be a Berserker?" Meng Lehuo gasped heavily

He has also realized that the Flying Tiger Cavalry can no longer clear the way for him after suffering tremendous losses. At this moment, the only thing he can hope for is to follow his brothers. The arrows of the Ghost Bow are invincible; this is what he trusts the most on the battlefield. He only needs to get within one hundred and fifty paces of the White Night Canglang flag, and with fifty arrows at his back, as long as one of them pierces Mengle Huo'er's throat, it will suffice

He was smiling when suddenly his expression changed, as if a furious demon had emerged. The veins on his forehead throbbed, and his eyes were fierce, as if they were ready to pounce and devour. "She even gave birth to a boy with Guo Le'er! Let him aim his weapon at his grandfather! This is an indelible shame for me!"

Under the banner of the White Night Grey Wolf, Mengle Huoer was not riding on the back of a wolf. A rough wooden chair was placed under the battle flag, and he relaxedly leaned back in the chair, squinting his eyes as he watched the blood-red figure that seemed to have jumped out from a rock painting weaving through the crowd. His son Huduluhan stood respectfully behind the back of the chair.

Charge forward! Charge forward! Do not hesitate to roar.

Sang Duluha listened to the teacher's breathing and felt a slight sense of relief. He unfastened the entire piece of cloth from his shoulder, carefully wrapped the mountain blue sky within it, and hoisted it onto his shoulder, vigilantly surveying his surroundings as he stepped back decisively. He had fought for ten years as a Kuafu warrior against the barbarians around the Tiger Treading River, and he did not trust these barbarians, whether they were from Qingyang or Shobei.

As Bahang departed on horseback, the remaining dozens of iron warriors were waiting for him not far away. Each of them carried the bodies of the fallen soldiers strapped to their saddles. They had to transport these precious armors back to the Northern Capital, even though they seemed to be of little use now. In the short term, they would not even be able to train anyone capable of wearing these armors in battle.

The White Wolf Brigade is gradually being torn apart under the pressure of an individual, with the rift growing larger, pointing towards the location of the White Night Canglang flag

After that angry expression gradually calmed down for a long time, Mengle Huo'er let out a low sigh, "He said his name is Asule Pasuer... Look at his eyes, they are like Guo Le'er. Huduluhan, you are truly foolish, can't you see? He will never be our friend!"

Hudu Luhan's entire body froze; he knew how many heads that axe, which could hardly be considered sharp, had severed in his father's hands. He was the only son of Mengle Huoer, but if he dared to question Mengle Huoer's authority in front of others, Mengle Huoer would surely let that blood-stained axe fall.

Teacher! Teacher!" Sang Duluha anxiously pressed down on Shan Bikun's wound, but his large hand could not cover it completely

There was no choice left for him; he knew that the further he charged ahead, the more his brothers would die. However, he had only one opportunity, the path forged by the Flying Tigers cavalry with their lives, a path earned for him by the blood-soaked slaughter of a boy named Asule.

Their souls gaze upon me in the darkness, they bestow upon me noble blood and flesh, they confer upon me the blessings of the celestial beings

"Blood of Bronze." Bu Hualu shivered slightly.

He looked at the departing figures of Asule and his companions, and coldly smiled, "Huduluhan my son, you are eager to take action against him, are you worried that he might affect your position? This child has my blood running through his veins, do you think I like this child? You are wary of him."

This is unimaginable; an old man, before the berserker of the Pasur family, not only remained unyielded but instead gained the upper hand. Mengle Huo'er's bronze axe, with its unmatched rotation, forced Asule to retreat step by step. Asule, like a trapped beast, made several attempts to charge forward, yet none were successful

Asu Le hoarsely called out the names of his ancestors, his blood-red eyes growing ever brighter with these curse-like words. He charged forward, stepping and slashing, the great cleaver reappearing, its complete arc descending towards the shoulder of Meng Le Huo Er.

He is a celestial knight, but still too young to pose a threat to us. Letting him go now would be beneficial, as the great nobles in the Northern Capital will attempt to ally with us. If we were to kill even the grandson of the Wolf Lord, they would understand that there is no path to survival through allegiance; they would either fight to the death or flee south. This may not be advantageous for us. Riding on the neck of Sanduluha, Shan Bikun said, "Moreover, it was the Wolf Lord who secured peace with the Qingyang tribe through marriage alliances; this child is a result of that alliance, and the Wolf Lord should honor that bond."

"Asule Pasul, my dear daughter Lemo's child, I once had someone secretly draw his likeness for me in the Northern Wilderness. Look at his face, those eyes, do they not resemble Lemo?" Menglehuo said淡淡地.

Decades after King Qindahan, the Pasur family once again bore the blood of bronze. When that frail youth erupted, he was as ferocious as his grandfather, reminiscent of the scene when King Qindahan punished the traitors in front of all the noble families of Qingyang. The Flying Tiger cavalry avoided his brilliance, as did the Wolf cavalry; wherever he went, the warriors cleared a space, and he charged towards the area with the most people like a beast

Decades of accumulation, generations of propagation, the proud ghost bow of Qingyang is unable to retaliate under the arrows of the feathered people. The few arrows that were shot out fell to the ground halfway due to exhaustion of strength

He stared at the white night wolf flag fluttering in the cold wind, the battle flag of the northern wolf lord Meng Lehuo'er. Over thirty years ago, he had retreated with this flag from beneath the Northern Capital. Now, more than thirty years later, he returned, and the originally azure flag had been bleached to a ghastly white by the winds of the Northern Wilderness. Bu Hualu hoped to use that flag as a shroud for himself and the wolf lord.

"General! Look over there!" a ghostly archer exclaimed, pointing with the tip of his bow.

For a moment, he could not believe his eyes; the filthy, fierce, beast-like wolf cavalry stood side by side with the noble, indifferent, crane-like feathered people. In an instant, hundreds of arrows surged towards them, sweeping down a group of ghost archers. The ghost archers were unprepared with defensive shields; they did not need to guard against stray arrows, for they were supposed to be the fastest, farthest, and most accurate archers on this grassland, as there were no feathered people on the Hanzhou grassland. Under the range of the feathered people's longbows, the barbarian's curved bows had no room for counterattack. The ghost archers were unprepared with defensive shields; they did not need to guard against stray arrows, for they were supposed to be the fastest, farthest, and most accurate archers on this grassland, as there were no feathered people on the Hanzhou grassland. Under the range of the feathered people's longbows, the barbarian's curved bows had no room for counterattack.

"Hudu Luhan, what do you want to do?" Mengle Huo'er slowly pressed the axe against his son's nape

"Give me a distance of one hundred and fifty paces, at one hundred and fifty paces, I will shoot arrows from horseback and can kill Menglehuoer! I only need a distance of one hundred and fifty paces!" He shouted loudly, commanding the ghost archers, "Everyone, shoot together, do not dodge, do not look back. I want you to clear a path for me with your arrows!"

Buhala turned his head to look behind him, only to find it completely empty. He stood alone on the battlefield. The feathered archers had completed their task, silently putting away their longbows and withdrawing with the remaining arrows. The wolf cavalry slowly gathered around Buhala.

Meng Lehuo stood up, lifted the bronze axe that was leaning against the chair, and strode towards Asule. His movements sliced through the crowd like a sharp blade, and he ran forward, letting out a powerful roar

"I will not die... Sang Duluohayin, do not be afraid, I will not die... I am just too tired... too tired..." Shan Bikong opened his eyes and said in an extremely weak voice, "But I cannot die yet. If I die, Le Bi City will truly treat this land as its battlefield... If I die... no one will be able to restrain the fierce beast within him..."

I have said to let them go, Menglehuoer · Woerhan's life will forever fulfill his promises. Menglehuoer also retracted the axe

Is this the Iron Pagoda of Qingyang? You dare to come here, which indeed shows remarkable courage. Then take my grandson back; he has the blood of bronze, which is extremely precious, and I do not want him to die. The environment in my village is too harsh and not beneficial for him; he should wait in the city for his grandfather to visit him. Mengle Huo'er looked at Bahang and said lightly, "When he wakes up, tell him that relying on the mad blood passed down from ancestors to kill is merely that of a sheep with the claws of a leopard. He has disappointed me greatly, far inferior to his grandfather. Only when his heart is also filled with blood can he truly be called the Berserker of the Pasul family."

Fifty paces, forty paces, thirty paces, Buhala watched as his brothers fell in rows like harvested crops, all dead, leaving only the wounded warhorses charging ahead as his shield. Buhala had no time to grieve; he needed to reach the range, his heart racing.

On the distant highland, Sang Duruhayin spread the Golden Wolf Flag on the ground and placed the Mountain Blue Sky upon it. Blood gushed from the entirety of Mountain Blue Sky, staining the golden threads woven into the wolf on the flag. His body was riddled with wounds; the moment Halezha struck him, it inflicted irreparable damage. In that instant, the force colliding within his body lost control, as if countless invisible snakes surged forth from his veins, dissipating back into the world. For a master of arcane arts, being interrupted while casting spells is fatal. In that instant, the force colliding within his body lost control, as if countless invisible snakes surged forth from his veins, dissipating back into the world. For a master of arcane arts, being interrupted while casting spells is fatal.

Bukhara realized his failure; from the very beginning, Menglehuo had already seen through their tactics and set up a perfect ambush. The two flags were a decoy, and Menglehuo himself served as bait. The Ghost Archers, Tiger and Leopard Cavalry, Great Wind Tents, and Flying Tiger Tents were all moths drawn to the flame, destined for self-destruction.

Hudu Luhan watched the departing figure of Bahang, feeling a slight stir in his heart. He drew the longbow from his waist and aimed at the back of Bahang's head. His archery skills were quite good, sufficient to hit the target.

The feathered archers swiftly drew the arrows embedded before them, once again nocking their bows. Shooting arrows seemed to be their innate talent, requiring no commands; they shared a kind of tacit understanding, instinctively knowing where to direct the rain of arrows towards the enemy's vulnerabilities. For the ghost bows, archery was akin to the hunting of eagles, while for the feathered ones, it was a regal slaughter from a position of superiority.

The relentless whip of the non-flower whip urged the Bone-penetrating Dragon forward, racing towards the White Wolf Brigade.

Two wolf cavalrymen lifted Asule and placed him on the saddle of Bahang

We are destined to be the masters of the grasslands, we are destined to be the emperors of the world, we are destined to be the sole messengers of God

The Shadow Moon Strike hit the great axe, yet it failed to shatter the bronze piece, instead rebounding back. In that instant, Meng Lehuo extended his hand to grasp Asule's head, lifting it high, and then delivered a punch to the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious

Father, should we avoid the limelight?" Huduluhan said, "He is just a madman, there is no need for you to worry about him, Father.

The sky was a deep blue. Suddenly, Lei Bicheng, who was in meditation, opened his eyes

Hoduluhan did not respond, gazing up at the sky

"Leibicheng." Sang Duluha silently recited this name, gazing towards the south, imagining the elderly man whom the teacher regarded as the most important companion, yet always worried about.

In his roar, everyone trembled with unease