The beastly bite lasted for three whole days, and the clear sky slowly darkened like an old face.

No one noticed that at some point, the roaring north wind was mixed with some snow foam.

At first, it was very subtle, because everyone could still see a dirty sun, so those soldiers of the vassal states wiped the snow foam from their eyebrows and hair with their hands, and they didn't care.

When a thrilling battle was over, and a hundred steppe people walked out of the dueling circle with a smile on their faces, the people let out a long breath and finally found that it was snowing.

Snow...... This bastard's snow is terrible snow!

The old general of Yan Guo's face was pale, looking at Amu looking at him with a smile, and finally understood that what kind of bullshit duel was purely a conspiracy!

The dogs of the prairie were doing bad things, dragging them where they were for five days and five nights.

A single rain almost destroyed an army of thousands, and now it's damn snow again.

On the grassland, a snowstorm can destroy the unprepared nomadic tribes, freeze more than half of the cattle and sheep to death, and it is normal for some grassland people's tents to be crushed under the deep snow.

What's more, these thousands of people, who were already short of clothes and food, had just pulled their feet out of the mud, and now they stepped into the vast snowfield.

People look up and hope that the snow doesn't fall, or that it doesn't fall a little less.

The sky is merciless.

Its face slowly darkened.

The snow is getting heavier.

Although the blizzard that ravaged the land has not yet begun, people can already smell them.

It is the real villain of the grassland, whether you are a steppe person or a farming tribe, and whether you are a cattle, sheep, horse, tiger, wolf, jackal or dog, if you don't pay attention, you can kill a large area.

The old general of Yan State panicked, and the alliance army of the vassal states was all fried.

"Snow, it's snowing!"

The people hurriedly began to pack their bags, intending to escape the damned grassland and return to their own territory south of the wolf's mouth before the blizzard actually came.

The future is boundless, and there are still five or six hundred miles to get out of the grassland, and we have to cross the two or three hundred miles of desert Gobi and cross a mountain range.

"Everyone, get on your horse immediately, follow the banner forward, and fight your way out!" The old general of Yan Guo got down from the chariot, stepped on horseback, and shouted loudly.

The Yan people rushed out first, followed by the people of the Jin Kingdom, the Zhongshan people, and some other soldiers of the small vassal states, who also mounted their horses and galloped away.

Amu half-squinted his eyes and looked at the enemies who were galloping away, and only then did he show a trace of exhaustion.

He rode his horse and walked slowly where the soldiers of the vassal states had been stationed.

Everywhere were weapons, horse corpses and the corpses of soldiers who had died for five days and five nights, sheepskins, horse skins, scattered bones, rusty bronze weapons, broken bows and arrows.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, and soon the mess was buried.

……

In the distance, on a high hill, Guo Yang was drinking.

He was in a good mood when an expected heavy snow fell, so he walked out of the tent for a rare time and let the snow flakes fall all over his body.

When the news came, Amu's stinky boy played tricks and dragged the alliance of the vassal states for five days and five nights, which is a great achievement, and he has to reward a few jars of good wine when he goes back, and in addition, he will find a daughter-in-law to restrain the wildness of that guy.

Five days and five nights were enough for him to lay out a huge pocket and sweep away all the debris that had recklessly broken into the grassland.

Or, take the initiative to evacuate, leave the land of right and wrong that is incompatible with you, and go to a distant place to create your own world.

Or, take the initiative to attack, chop off those greedy claws, and pull out the fangs of those beasts who are full of benevolence and morality, and act cruelly and insidiously, so that their hearts will tremble when they think about it.

Guo Yang's heart is very hard, and he has already made up his mind that this time he must hurt those greedy dogs, so that those people in the farming tribe will feel a toothache when they think of the grassland.

He felt aggrieved in his heart, so he wanted to vent it thoroughly.

Merchants destroyed the country, even if they wanted to live a peaceful life, they couldn't do anything, whips, knives, one bullshit decree after another, each of which seemed to have hidden mysteries, constantly restricting all aspects of the merchants.

While squeezing, while not letting you die, let the Zhou people finish talking about the truth of the world, then there is no heavenly reason, simply, do a big vote, and then, completely retreat into the grassland, and slowly visit his mother Guo Ye.

……

On the snowy field, the soldiers of the vassal states had to slow down after galloping for two or three hours.

The horses can't stand such a long gallop.

Without enough forage, horses that have been struggling in the mud for more than a month simply can't run fast or far. They were skinny one by one, and began to shed their hair in large areas, revealing shocking flesh and skin, which looked a little purple in the cold wind.

Some of the horses ran and ran, and when they fell down, they didn't bother to get up again.

What awaits them is either a knife in the neck and becomes food for the cavalry, or they are simply abandoned, kneeling in the snow and shedding big tears.

This is their grassland, and now someone has broken in, trying to kidnap them, to turn them into mounts in strange places, to charge into battle for people, to shed blood and sweat for their ambitions, or, destinedly, to shed tears.

The soldiers of the allied forces of the vassal states have begun to ignore the horses in their hands, and the snow has begun to fall on the grasslands, and they only want to escape.

Therefore, for those emaciated or sick horses, they simply took extreme measures, either slaughtering them directly, picking out those parts that were easy to take away, such as legs, ribs, etc., and discarding the rest, leaving them to be covered with heavy snow.

Compared to their own dogs, they don't care about the lives of these horses.

For those horses that were still able to gallop, they took the same extreme measures, whipping them on the rumps of the horses, oozing black blood, blown by the cold wind, and sticking dirty to their filthy manes.

In order to make the horses run faster, someone even stuck an arrow in the horse's buttocks, causing the beasts to neigh in pain while carrying them forward.

Soon, they had ruined all their fortunes, like wasting all their good fortune.

The alliance army of the vassal states drove 300 miles in one day and one night, which is very powerful, if it weren't for a large group of loot in hand, it would not be easy to run so far.

However, the rest of the journey was not easy, because they galloped all the way, thousands of horses, and there were less than two thousand left, and basically two people could get one.

In order to flee for their lives, their fangs began to show out.

The generals picked up the best two hundred war horses, one for each and a dozen with them, which could be ridden in turn to ensure the physical strength of the horses.

But the soldiers can't, they have to leave some behind, or no one will be able to escape.

The damn snow buried the grasslands, and the horses were too hungry to run.

In an open field, an argument broke out among the soldiers.

They let the horses scatter and let them find the roots of the grass that had not yet dried in the snow, and let them rest by the way.

The soldiers were divided into three parts, the people of Yan, Jin, Zhongshan and other small vassal states.

There is not much nonsense, the purpose is obvious, either live or die.

Those 2,000 horses are the only hope that only the living have the right to enjoy.

There are no conspiracy and intrigues, anyway, everyone has been miserable by the intrigues of the steppe people, so everyone hates intrigues.

Let's get started.

First, a round of bows and arrows was fired, knocking down the three large groups of people, and then, it was a formation charge, and the three groups of people suddenly shouted, ran out of dozens of steps quickly, collided together, and began to silently kill the opponent.

This is a battle that cannot go down in history, because there is no such thing as justice and evil, there is no such thing as right and wrong, and of course, there is no such thing as bullshit reincarnation.

In order to keep yourself alive, you need to kill your former comrades-in-arms, and this kind of bloody plot is really not suitable and worthy of being written into the annals of history, so that future generations will be ashamed.

Swords and spears slash, stab, poke, grab, split, slash, pierce, smash, hit, and flesh flying.

Teeth and nails are torn, bitten, pounded, bumped, hooked, folded, pinched, pinched, and everything is done.

The prairie people are really fucking talents, and they can teach everyone how to brutally kill their own people at once, and they can also experience an unprecedented hearty feeling.

Prairie people, dog offal!

Own people, dog offal!

On the snow, thousands of people silently killed each other, and no one dared to imagine that once they could escape from this damn grassland alive, would they think of their own people who had killed them with their own hands?

Of course, only living people can do these boring things, wives and children hot kang heads, a mouthful of meat, a jue of wine, remembering the past, a handful of bitter tears.

For the time being, everyone does not have this right yet, because, seeing that a snowstorm is coming, most of those damned companions have not died, and each of them has not yet shared a war horse.

The prairie people are like hyenas, their ghosts are not far away, and everyone can smell the sinister and fierce breath.

Originally, thousands of war horses, everyone talked and laughed and took them back, but first they were harassed by the cavalry of the Yan people, followed by an endless rain, and then there was an inexplicable bullshit duel for five days and five nights.

Then, the snow fell.

It's messy, confused, inexplicable, everyone thinks so in their hearts, two or three months of the trip to the grassland, like a nightmare.

……

After an inexplicable fight, some people got their wish and climbed on horseback exhausted, and most died in hatred, lying on the snow and exhaling their last breath.

There are no losers and no winners.

This fight is only about living or dying, and all other questions are stupid and stinking shit.

About two horses for a person, if nothing else, should be able to support them to roll out of the savannah.

It's dark.

A blizzard is coming.

The bloodied, scarred soldiers of the vassal states galloped wildly on their horses and headed south.

Amu led a team of people and followed them from a distance, not far away, not close, if they were about to leave, like a nightmare tail, they couldn't shake it off.

Along the way, they counted the corpses of their opponents, rescued the languishing horses, poured two hot herbal juices, and fed them some forage and salt.

Some of the horses survived, and after half a year they began to bounce around again and became the most handsome horses on the steppe.

Some of the horses died slowly, clinging their huge heads to the bodies and faces of the steppe people, kissing, licking, rubbing, reluctantly, and slowly closing their eyes.

Many years later, when Amu and his brothers sat in a warm tent or lay in a cave surrounded by fairy spirits, they would remember again and again that those poor horses, and the tears that welled up in their eyes when they died, were one of the most precious treasures in the world.