In the scorching summer sun, the soldiers' bodies were covered with hot sweat, which continued to flow on their bodies, and then dripped onto the dry earth, nourishing the earth. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info Ye Feng rode on the horse, drank a sip of water, moistened his throat, the steppe horse under him is extremely patient, can run a hundred miles a day without eating or drinking, but the next day needs to rest, but this is not a problem for the Huns.

The nomadic Huns often had several horses per person, so they were able to maneuver at high speeds, bite the enemy's weak flesh and then retreat, avoiding engaging the enemy's main force, and in doing so to constantly weaken their opponents. Finally, when the enemy is exhausted and demoralized, start a decisive battle and crush the enemy in one fell swoop.

But now most of the Huns have abandoned their horses and settled down before the enemy has been destroyed, they have been bought off by the riches of the agrarian civilization, they have lost the centripetal force and cohesion to continue fighting, they have been corrupted.

Gaul was heavily forested, and marching through the forests was a painful affair, not only to beware of poisonous snakes and beasts, but also to endure poisonous insects, mosquitoes, and bed bugs, and many Huns and barbarians were full of filthy bed bugs and fleas, as well as forest fog.

Many Huns and barbarians died in the chaotic and gloomy forest because of the unsuitable environment, and years later, the Gauls could still see the bones as they walked through the forest.

A Hun warrior on foot walked and walked, suddenly plopped and fell to the ground, and the Huns next to him were not even interested in taking a look, such a phenomenon was too normal. They have been dehumanized by exhaustion, heat, and fear. Ye Feng's head was also buzzing, because of the heat, his head was constantly sweating.

His mind began to blur, and the only thing that sustained him was to live.

His eyes open and close, like a sleepy traveler. In his daze, a burly figure appeared in front of him, it was Uldin.

"Apostle, it's getting dark, and it's time for us to stop and rest."

Ulding said to Ye Feng, who was still riding his horse and walking forward slowly.

"Ahh Oh.. I know. ”

Ye Feng reacted at this time, he opened his tired eyes, looked around, there was no continuous queue, but one by one set up yurts, scattered on the plain, it seemed that he had walked out of the forest, Ye Feng shook his head.

Ye Feng stretched his waist, he did fall asleep on the horseback just now, Ye Feng was a little afraid, fortunately he didn't fall off the horse, otherwise he would be crippled if he didn't die, Ye Feng's back was in a cold sweat.

Tired now, he just wants to have a good night's sleep, and every day when he rests at night, he will learn how to write Latin from Hillary, but now he has lost interest, and today is particularly tired, Ye Feng obviously feels that he has a cold.

Ye Feng began to sneeze, and his throat was unusually dry, this feeling was very uncomfortable, just like thousands of ants crawling in his throat, Ye Feng had no appetite to eat, Ulding handed Ye Feng a piece of jerky, but Ye Feng couldn't eat it, and the pain in his throat kept him awake all night.

He even felt that he was dying, and the temperature on his forehead was also very high, Ye Feng felt that in this wild fifth century, a little illness was fatal, his consciousness became blurred, and his body became extremely weak, but the remaining bit of consciousness still made her order Hillary to cold him for him, otherwise his brain would be burned by a high fever.

Hilary carried out his order, found a clean strip of cloth and got some clean water. Then the cold compress was applied to Ye Feng's forehead, and Ye Feng felt much better. But Ye Feng knew that whether he could survive or not depended on heaven.

The news of Ye Feng's fall spread far and wide, and Ye Feng's influence was highlighted at this time, and those who accepted Protestantism heard that Ye Feng had also fainted during the expedition, and they began to become uneasy, and prayed to the Immortal Heaven not to take his gift back.

In Ye Feng's fainting and confusion, something happened that he couldn't even think of, the terrible machine of religion rumbled, and it was not something that Attila's simple loose rule could stop. In the face of a tight religious war machine, Attila's rule was nothing more than a joke.

This uneasiness of the believers also affected other soldiers, both barbarians and Huns, and there were followers of Protestantism, because Protestantism had a powerful power of persuasion, and it could cure diseases.

When Attila ordered the soldiers to move on the first morning, the soldiers refused, they said.

Even the most favored shaman among the Huns fell ill, and the expedition was a mistake, and the shaman's illness was the will of the heavens, who did not allow Attila to continue his march on Gaul.

In fact, Ye Feng's illness was just a fuse, plague and disease have been tormenting this army, like the sword of Damox, which has been hanging over the heads of these expeditionary forces.

Attila was not a fool, he was not angry, he was superstitious and found the shamans and asked them to perform the divination, the shamans were just a bunch of liars, and when they saw that the soldiers were unwilling to advance, they said ambiguously:

"If the march continues towards Gaul, a noble Hun will die!"

This Hun may be Ye Feng, who has great religious influence, or it may be Attila himself, which makes Attila a little afraid, but the leaders of these soldiers are not as smart as Attila, and when they see that their authority is being challenged, they whip the soldiers.

A Alamein was whipped by the tribal leader's flesh and blood, and his chest was densely covered with whip marks and bloodstains, the whipping did not hurt, but it was extremely painful, like a knife constantly scraping your flesh, it hurts to think about it. But the El Alamein tribesman remained motionless, he was a believer who had been treated by rescuers.

His faith was firm and unbreakable as a rock, and now he was the leader of some Alamanites and other Alamans who were afraid of being overwhelmed and chose to fall to the faithful.

"You can kill me, but I can't disobey God's will!"

The Alamanin said this, the expression of determination on his face made him look like a saint now, and the other believers had angry expressions, and a bloody conflict was about to break out.

Fortunately, all the tribal leaders and nobles were not fools, and they were not stupid enough to kill these fearless and irrational believers, otherwise these Huns and barbarians would have fallen into civil strife, these believers would have rioted, and Ye Feng, a man who had fallen ill, would have become a martyr in the history of Protestantism.