Prairie, Mount Bell.

The next day, when the sun went down, Attila came down from Mount Bell, the priestesses had prepared all the rituals, and the traditions that had been followed by the tribe for thousands of years were often terrifying, and Mo Yimiao knew that there was nowhere to avoid it.

Attila herself placed the bloody heart in front of her, and the heat of this heart steamed in the cold wind of the night. Both of his arms were stained red with blood.

Behind Attila, his Allied Guard, armed with a dagger, fell to one knee on the grass next to the Mustang carcass, and it was clear that the heart was his masterpiece.

The high pink and white wall that surrounds the pit swayed, and the red flame reflected the blood of the horses in pitch black.

Mo Yimiao stroked her lower abdomen, sweat condensed on the surface of her skin, and ran down her hairline.

She felt the dying priestesses watching her, their wrinkled faces and eyes glowing black like obsidian.

She can't back down, she can't be afraid.

"I am Mo Yimiao, who was born in the black sandstorm. She told herself as she picked up the horse's heart with both hands and bit down on the beating raw meat with all her might.

The warm blood spilled into her mouth, running down her jaw, the taste almost disgusting her, and she tried to ignore her palate, forcing herself to continue chewing, continuing to swallow.

The nomadic tribe believes that the heart of a horse can make a son strong, brave and victorious, but as a mother, she has to eat the whole heart.

If there was choking on blood, or if vomiting occurred, the priests considered it a great bad luck and that the fetus could be miscarried, or that the child might be disabled or weak, or even not a boy at all.

The tribesmen do not hesitate to abandon disabled or weak babies who are born, often to wild dogs, following the natural laws of survival of the fittest.

Her maid Qiqige had prepared her for the ceremony, drinking horse blood several times a day to get her used to the smell of blood, but she had always vomited, which made her suspect that she was not the material at all.

She didn't even eat for a day to make herself hungry during the ritual, which would help her swallow raw meat.

The wild horse's heart was full of strong muscles, and Mo Yimiao could only swallow it after biting it with her teeth, which made her have to taste all the flavors, and her stomach was tumbling and churning, but she gritted her teeth and persevered until her clothes were also splashed with horse blood.

Attila stood tall and watched her eat, her grim face as cold as bronze. Mo Yimiao had a small black cane pinned to her wide robe, and she thought about it whenever she couldn't eat or her stomach was tumbling.

When she swallowed the last bite of horse meat, the muscles of her face stiffened, and she dared to turn her gaze to the priestesses, the old women known as shamans.

"Kasama, Sayara!" Mo Yimiao said in the standard tribal language he could reach, meaning: knight under the eagle. She had been practicing these simple words for a week.

The oldest of the priestesses, one bent so that her upper body was parallel to the ground, and only one black-eyed old woman held her hands high. "Casama, Sayara!" she cried out, meaning: knight under the eagle.

"The knight under the eagle," the other woman replied.

They announced in unison, "It's a boy, it's a boy, it's a strong boy." ”

When the bell rings, smoke fills the air, and the priestesses begin to chant to announce the official beginning of the ancient ritual as they converse with the gods and discover all the mysteries of the child in Mo Yimiao's womb.

A slave turned the hay like a charcoal brazier, and in an instant the rich smell of grass was emitted, and the canvas that covered the roof was put away, and the smoke rose into the night sky.

In the eyes of the tribesmen, the stars in the sky are like the warriors galloping on the grassland, they gallop in the vast sky, the momentum is huge, and the warriors of the tribe will turn into the stars in the sky when they die.

As the smoke rose and the chanting faded, the aged priestess narrowed her eyes as if she could see the future.

Silence followed, Mo Yimiao heard the chirping of autumn insects in the distance, the slightest crackling of torches, and the soft water of the lake.

The people of the tribe waited in silence for the priest's final prophecy.

Attila held Mo Yimiao's shoulder, and she could feel her husband's nervousness from the strength of her fingers.

Men as strong as the "Whip of God" will also harbor fear and insecurity when the shaman takes over the future through the smoke and dust.

Finally, the old woman finally opened her eyes wide and raised her arms. "I saw him, his eagle hovering overhead, his horses neighing like thunder. She announced in a thin, trembling voice.

"He neighed like thunder. Several priestesses responded in unison.

"His horse is as fast as the wind, and his followers behind him cover the land as far as the eye can see, and the full moon scimitar in their hands is like a silver sea, and the prince will be as mighty as an eagle, and his enemies will tremble and submit before him, and his anger will ignite any known corner......" The old woman looked at Mo Yimiao with a trembling look, as if terrified, "The prince stepped on his horse. ”

"The prince rode on his horse. The crowd cheered loudly until the night fell.

Mo Yimiao finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The one-eyed old woman looked at Mo Yimiao. "What is the name of your warrior? ”

She got up and replied, "We will call him Atiyan." ”

The tribe heard a louder cry, and Mo Yiyan subconsciously reached out to protect his belly.

"Atiyan," the people chanted, "Atiyan, Atiyan......"

The name was still ringing in her ears as Attila led her away.

His allies followed behind him, and the huge procession walked towards the avenue, a wide and green road that ran through Eagle City and to Bell Mountain, passing under the "horse gate".

At the front of the procession were the priestesses, some of them on wooden crutches, struggling to swing their old and trembling feet, and some of them not too old to ride horses.

These were the wives and concubines of the deceased Shan Yu, and when their husbands died, they became shamans and died.

Whether he would become one of them made Mo Yimiao afraid.

"Why is it called Attiyan?" asked Attila as she walked, as time went on, Mo Yimiao's tribal language had improved so much that she could communicate simply.

"My husband, my eldest brother is the dark god of war of the Seven Kingdoms, and his legend still lives on the eastern continent," she told him, "but I was not yet born when he died, but there is no doubt that he is the true heir to the throne." ”

Attila looked down at her, and she saw her husband smiling.

"It's a good name, Magic Cloak...... Look, the moon of my life. He learned to speak in the seven Chinese, but still mispronounced her name.

When they returned to the "palace", the silk curtain at the top had been lifted tonight, and the moonlight followed them into the room. Inside the three stone fire pits, the flames soared high and were ten feet tall. The air was filled with the smell of roasted meat, mare's milk and spirits.

When they entered the hall, they were already full of people.

Hundreds of people gathered to celebrate the birth of a noble son.

Drums and trumpets resounded in the night sky, low tables filled with dishes, fruit treats of all kinds, and women dressed in revealing flowers and butterflies as they walked through.

Mo Yimiao sat in a corner of the hall under the pretext of being unwell, no matter what time the dinner ended today, it seemed that she, the hostess, should not be absent, she was ready for a protracted battle, and this wine was likely to be drunk until the dawn of the sky.

Shan Yu has drunk in a big bowl with his allies.

Mo Yimiao looked around, I don't know if his brother is here, according to the past, the ragged Mo Yilei is very easy to recognize, since he came to Eagle City, the loss of time and the anxiety of waiting have greatly increased Mo Yilei's drinking, how could he miss such a good opportunity.

In any case, the child in his womb is also his nephew.

The feast was lively, and Mo Yimiao was drowsy.

Suddenly, he tugged at her sleeve. "Master," whispered the maid anxiously, "your brother ...... him"

Mo Yimiao looked towards the end of the roofless long hall, and sure enough, she saw him striding towards her. From his stumbling steps, she immediately understood that he was drunk, with the courage of a true king.

He was dressed in a gray silk coat, covered with sweat and dust, his boots were cracked, his hair was scattered and tangled, and the long sword given by the city lord of Wuliang hung from his waist.

When he entered, the tribesmen stared at him and angrily cursed him for coming to Shan Yu's wedding banquet with a sword, and the drums in the hall were messy, and the music gradually stopped.

Mo Yimiao's heart was full of fear. "Go," she ordered Uncle Di, "stop him, don't let him do nonsense." ”

"What about my noble sister?" Mo Yilei shouted angrily, "Lao Tzu has come to your wedding banquet, and you didn't even invite the true king." ”

Moyidi walked quickly to him, whispered in his ear, and reached out to help him. Mo Yilei struggled to break free, "Get out of here, you traitor who disobeys the true king." ”

Mo Yimiao glanced at the position uneasily, Attila was chatting with the alliance guards, not caring what was happening, but their laughter caught Mo Yilei's attention.

"Attila Shan Yu," he staggered towards Shan Yu's high position, "I'm here for dinner." But as he walked, he was stopped by someone.

"Your seat is over there," said one of the allies, Batu, pointing to the end of the hall at the doorway. Mo Yidi translated to him at the side.

Mo Yilei glanced at the door, where there were some young children, old people in their last years. "Is that the king's position?" the brother proclaimed.

Seeing Shan Yu Attila's anger rising, Mo Yidi couldn't care so much and wanted to forcibly drag his brother away.

Mo Yimiao watched from a distance and couldn't hear what they said, but saw that the result was that his brother and Mo Yidi were tearing and scuffling, but there was almost no suspense, and Mo Yidi beat the real king to the ground.

"Brush. The elder brother drew his sword.

The blade glowed a terrifying red in the light of the fire, and the elder brother staggered to his feet, swinging his sword around the hall. The sword was given to him by the city lord of Wu Liang in order to give him the appearance of a king.

He actually pulled out this sword in the hall of thousands of people, at Shan Yu's wedding banquet.

"No!" Mo Yimiao let out a scream. Mo Yilei followed the sound and finally found her.

"You can't do that," she begged, "put down your sword and talk about anything." ”

"Stupid, stupid," Mo Yidi roared, "snap your sister's words, and you'll kill us all." ”

"No one can command the True King," Mo Yilei laughed loudly, his sword roaming over Mo Yimiao's chest and then his abdomen, "I only want what belongs to me," he told her, "I only want my iron horseman, and your man bought you without paying for it." ”

"I can't lose one and put on another," his sword poked her belly lightly, "and you ask him for what belongs to me, and if he doesn't agree, I'll take back what I have." ”

"You put the sword down first, and I'll ask him for it." ”

She spoke to Attila in a tribal language she was not fluent in, and she didn't know if she could speak clearly in the tribal language she had not learned, but when she finished speaking, Attila said a few rude sentences, and she knew he understood.

Attila nodded coldly at her.

"What did he say?" Mo Yilei asked with a frown.

"He promised, and he will give you your iron horse. ”

Mo Yilei smiled and put down his sword, "This is what I want, this is what I deserve." ”

"Tell them that tomorrow I will inspect my iron horsemen outside the horse gate, in the grasslands of Eagle City. After speaking, Mo Yilei staggered out of the hall.

Mo Yimiao didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse, but she was always faintly uneasy.

In the early morning of the next day, in this season when the grass grows and the eagle flies, Mo Yilei stands alone on the grassland, waiting for his iron horse, and he will use this team to restore the past glory of the Mo Yi family.

Mo Yimiao stood on the high place of Eagle City, his face was like a quiet lake, and he looked at his brother blankly.

When the dawn shone on this grassland, the sound of horses' hooves rolled like angry thunder, and from far and wide, 20,000 iron riding black crows rushed in, rolling up the dust in the sky.

The elder brother Mo Yilei excitedly dismounted, brandishing his sword in order to tell them where he was.

He could finally review his army, and he was like the last king of the Seven Kingdoms.

He will return.

Tens of thousands of horses rushed towards him, and Mo Yilei opened his arms to meet the invincible iron horseman in this world.

"Your Royal Highness Princess, you better go back and don't look any further. Moyidi whispered next to her.

Mo Yimiao maintained a standing position.

Tens of thousands of horses rolled forward, they rushed towards Mo Yilei, even if they were close, they had no intention of stopping, they just rushed towards him, and ruthlessly ran over him.

Mo Yilei's smile didn't have time to freeze, and thousands of horses trampled past.

He finally got his iron horse.

But his flesh had turned to dirt.