“Patriarch, Ye Zhan sent news that the Barbarian Tribe has sent a raiding force of eight thousand men. They will arrive at the Black Soil Stronghold in three hours at most. Should we make preparations or send reinforcements?” Ye San rushed in, saying with some anxiety.
As a high-ranking figure in the Night Tribe, Ye San understood the Barbarian Tribe well; they were a power far greater than the Giant Tiger or Savage Bull.
Facing the Barbarian Tribe's raids, why did the fierce Red River forces choose to compromise?
This was because they had already clashed and found they were simply no match for them.
Originally, the Red River had three major tribes: Giant Tiger, Savage Bull, and Horned Sheep, all of them large powers with tens of thousands of tribesmen.
To resist the Barbarian Tribe, the three major tribes formed an alliance and absorbed almost all the Red River tribes, calling themselves the Red River Alliance. Their total numbers exceeded those of the current Night Tribe, with an army of nearly one hundred thousand.
The Red River Alliance engaged in a great war with the Barbarian Tribe on the Black Soil Plain. However, to everyone's shock, the Barbarian Tribe, with a mere ten thousand cavalry, routed the Red River Alliance's hundred-thousand-strong army.
Afterward, they completely destroyed the Horned Sheep Tribe, bringing an end to the Red River's three overlords.
Since then, the Red River has been powerless to resist the Barbarian Tribe.
“There’s no need to be so nervous. Haven’t we already made preparations? Let them come. I’d like to see if the warriors of the Night Tribe are stronger or if the Barbarian warriors are more valiant…” Su Xingyu said with a relaxed smile, seeing Ye San’s anxiety.
Ye San hesitated, “While that may be true…”
“Alright, go inform the warriors to prepare for battle.”
Su Xingyu waved his hand, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. “The Barbarian Tribe has brought the meat to our mouths; why wouldn’t we eat it? We will destroy this Barbarian force, strike at their heart, and swallow them whole.”
“As you wish, Patriarch.”
Seeing that the Patriarch had made up his mind, Ye San, despite his lingering unease, did not voice any further objections.
“Go.”
……
……
The Black Soil Plain spanned hundreds of miles. The Night Tribe's Black Soil Stronghold was located near the center of the plain. This area was once home to a large tribe of tens of thousands, who lived by animal husbandry. Beneath the ground lay a Blood Crystal Vein, which the Night Tribe later annexed and converted into the Black Soil Stronghold.
Establishing this stronghold served two purposes: first, to guard against external enemies, and second, to keep watch over the Black Soil Plain.
After taking the Bloodfang Forest, the best option for the Night Tribe to expand further was the Black Soil Plain.
Therefore, the Black Soil Stronghold had the largest and strongest garrison among the four strongholds.
Outside the Black Soil Stronghold, nearly twenty thousand Black Armored Warriors gazed into the depths of the plain. Ye Zhan, leading the Night Tribe's most elite cavalry, stood at the forefront. His voice was deep as he delivered his final speech: “The Barbarian Tribe is coming. The barbaric and powerful Barbarian Tribe, which often raids our food and defeated the Red River Alliance, is coming again. Night Tribe warriors, are you afraid?”
“Not afraid!”
“Not afraid!”
“Not afraid!”
The warriors’ echoes were loud, their eyes seeming to fill with blood.
“Heh heh… To be honest, I am a little afraid. After all, they are the Barbarian Tribe, one of the overlords of the Black Soil Plain, who once defeated our hundred thousand men with just ten thousand.”
Ye Zhan chuckled. Before anyone could react, he continued with renewed fervor:
“However, more than fear, I feel excitement. The Night Tribe has grown from a few hundred people to hundreds of thousands. We have experienced countless wars.
“Back then, we only had rudimentary equipment, yet we dared to fight the Barbarian Tribe. Now, we have superior equipment. I am eager to see how strong the Barbarian Tribe, who roam the Black Soil, truly are. And whether you are worthy of the equipment you wear. My brave warriors, let us await this moment!”
“Fight!” the warriors roared hoarsely.
“The Eternal Night Monarch watches over us!”
Ye Zhan raised his saber to the sky and then slashed it down. “In the name of the gods, victory in this battle!”
“Victory! Victory! Victory!”
The warriors were like they had been injected with adrenaline, their bodies filled with Strength.
At Ye Zhan’s command, nearly twenty thousand troops, following the Sky-Rending Eagles in the sky, charged towards the Black Soil Plain.
“I really didn’t expect Ye Zhan to have such public speaking skills,” Su Xingyu said with a wry smile, watching Ye Zhan’s pre-battle speech from within the Divine Realm.
He had originally planned to bestow a blessing upon these warriors, but it seemed unnecessary now.
After all, as a God, he could not appear as frequently as before; he needed to maintain some dignity.
A god who has fallen to the mortal world is no longer a god, merely a powerful Divine Creature.
Moreover, he had not yet mastered his powers and was merely an incorporeal phantom with a title. It was best to minimize such public displays.
Dozens of miles from the Black Soil Stronghold, an army clad in tattered armor, with animal skins worn underneath for warmth, was advancing towards the Red River.
Though their attire was ragged, each of them was powerfully built, their faces painted with colorful stripes, exuding an exceptionally fierce Aura.
“Why is it so far? I shouldn’t have come. The Red River tribes are all poor; what good things could they possibly have…” the young man at the forefront, riding a tall black horse, said impatiently.
“We’re almost there, almost there. Just a little longer, Young Chieftain, please be patient,” a slightly thin middle-aged man, appearing to be around thirty, said to comfort him.
“Hoo—hoo—”
Glancing at the horse beneath him, which was panting, the middle-aged man thought for a moment and said in a low voice:
“Young Chieftain, we set out before sunrise, and it’s almost noon now. We haven’t rested at all. The warriors are getting tired. Perhaps we should stop for a rest, drink some water, and eat some dry rations.”
“Rest for what? We’re not at war, what’s there to be tired about!” the young man snapped back in displeasure.
The thin middle-aged man remained silent, but inwardly scoffed.
What kind of horse do you have, and what kind of horse do we have! Can it be the same thing, damn it!
However, one must bow their head under another’s roof. He nodded and replied, “It was my oversight.”
“The tribesmen of our Barbarian Tribe are all valiant warriors. A mere cold wind is nothing.”
The young man finished speaking and then shouted loudly:
“Everyone, put in a bit more effort! When we reach the Red River, we’ll have a banquet. The fine wine, good food, and women there will be for everyone to enjoy…”
“Young Chieftain, you mustn’t…”
The middle-aged man was about to object when the young man turned to look at him, his threat evident. The middle-aged man immediately shut his mouth and praised:
“Young Chieftain is wise.”
“It’s good that you know.”
The young man nodded.
Bang, bang, bang…
Suddenly, a slight tremor came from the ground. A warrior with exceptionally sharp eyesight looked forward and saw a black “wave” rushing towards them. The warriors were stunned at first, then shouted hoarsely:
“Young Chieftain, there are enemies!”
“My eyes aren’t blind, I see them.”
The young man’s face showed a hint of panic, but he quickly regained his composure, feeling somewhat annoyed:
“They dare to take the initiative to attack? These Red River scum have quite the nerve. But I will let them know that courage alone is useless; Strength is the true principle.”
“Valiant Barbarian warriors, charge with me! Crush these scum and show them what true power is!”
As soon as he finished speaking, the young man was the first to charge forward on his horse, raising his long saber, like a black lightning bolt.
The Barbarian warriors behind him shouted “Waaah!” and then excitedly charged forward, as if their opponents were not enemies but a piece of cooked fat meat.
A mere group of weak Red River tribes; no matter how many there were, their only outcome against their charge would be defeat.
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