Reinforcements from the Crazy Horse tribe did not appear on the horizon until noon, when the sun was at its highest. The beacon fire during last night's battle still aroused the vigilance of the other party after all, and the Crazy Horse tribe made some more repairs before approaching the trading post in a neat formation.

More than a thousand samurai on horseback could be detected from miles away. The sand shook slightly, and small insects came out of the sand and crawled around without a head or a brain. In the skies, some of the ravenous desert scavenging birds will follow the horde, as there is always a feast to entertain them next. []

According to the combat habits of the Crazy Horse tribe, the more than 1,000 samurai were divided into thirteen "wings", each commanded by a centurion. If someone overlooks the army of the Crazy Horse tribe from above at this time, you can clearly see that the army of Crazy Horse is divided into five parts: the front guard, the left, center, and right armies, and the reserve.

In the path of this large army were the warriors of the Scorpion tribe and the Tyr soldiers under Muhadi. Having accepted the juvenile build, this army abandoned the captured trading post and placed its main forces on both flanks of the trading post. Muhadi himself led his men, along with some of his captives, to the trading post.

"We're only half as many as the enemy!" said one of the soldiers, who stood far away, but was noticed by the keen teenager.

This soldier was actually a caravan guard, and after conquering the trading post, Muhadi used his psionic energy to select a group of more honest and less rebellious captives to supplement the trading post's guard force. Half of these people will flee when they see that the fighting is not good, and the other half will defect to the opposing camp, Muhadi thought, but that's exactly what I want them to do.

"Quiet!soldier!" Muhadi shouted to the trembling soldier, "If numbers could decide the outcome of a battle, Atas would have called the mathematicians to rule." ”

His own former men laughed, and after last night's battle, they had more confidence in their superiors. And the soldiers who were replenished from the captives only suppressed their fears deeper into their hearts.

In addition to replenishing some of the captives, Muhathir tied the son of the Crazy Horse chieftain and other Crazy Horse warriors to a row of pillars on the wall. Seeing that the enemy was approaching, he ordered his men to fetch some moistened lizard leather and tie it around the necks of the boy named Gaston and the other warriors.

Under the scorching sun, the moisture in the leather will gradually steam, and the leather tied to the neck will become tighter and tighter, and finally force the other party to suffocate. Of course, they could still struggle for a long time before they died, enough to provoke the other party to storm here regardless of the qiē.

As the Crazy Horse Tribe's vanguard approached three arrows from the Trade Post, the group stopped. I saw that the warriors of the Crazy Horse tribe were all dressed in black robes, and their faces were tightly covered, revealing only a pair of fierce eyes. Muhadi saw that the other man was both agile and strong, and that each horse was completely black, with only white fur on the center of the eyebrows and hooves. Although the number is small, the momentum is strong, but it seems to be like a thousand troops. After some of the samurai in front had stopped, they pulled their horses to the sides, and the last rode out of them.

This is a heroic female rider, she simply wears a translucent turban, and the dazzling gold of her head cannot be concealed. She was dressed in an ordinary herdsman's robe, covered with a piece of chain mail, and carried a spear in her left hand, and her face was full of stubbornness and fortitude. From her, Muhati actually saw the shadow of Fatoumah, both of whom were so stubborn and proud.

"This is the chief of the Crazy Horse tribe, and people call her Medici. Said a soldier who had been replenished from the captives.

"She looks younger than I thought," the boy wondered, "how can there be a son who is twelve or thirteen years old?" said Gaston's mother, who looked very young, much to Muhadi's surprise.

"She seems to have given birth to a son at the age of fourteen, and now she is twenty-six or seventeen, how can she be said to be young?" the soldier asked strangely.

Muhati was silent, he was still influenced by the previous world, and his criteria for judging the age of the characters were different from others. In Attas, it is not uncommon for humans to give birth to children even if they are adults at the age of fourteen. Moreover, the average life expectancy of human beings in Atas is only fifty years old, and nearly thirty years old is not young in any way.

"Medici!" the young man shouted as he stood on the wall according to the ancient rules of tribal warfare, and after being strengthened by psionic energy, his voice spread far, far away. "Lower your banner and beg our mercy! Else your son will die, your warriors will be slain, and your tribe will be ruined in blood and fire! No one will mention the name of Crazy Horse in the future, and you will disappear like dew in the desert!"

"There are only Crazy Horses who died in battle, and there are no Crazy Horses who surrendered. The sheikh replied in a loud voice, without a trembling voice, and stared at the army before her as nothing. "The Crazy Horse tribe will not bow down to anyone, even if he claims to be the messenger of Tyr. At this, she glanced at Muhadi with contempt.

"You will die without a place to bury!" said Gash beside Muhadi, threatening. And the woman just laughed and responded, "So what? Can you still grow old and not die? As a warrior, dying on the battlefield is both fate and glory!"

"Don't forget that your son is still in our hands!" called out the other teenager. Muhathir recognized him as one of the flag bearers he had promoted. "Your stubbornness will lead to his death, and I promise it will be a long and miserable process!"

"My son, already dead. Chief Medici said, both as an answer and as a mobilization to her own people. "The same goes for those you caught, and we will avenge them!"

"Is it dead?" Muhati pulled out his saber and plunged it into the thigh of the bound Gaston, twisting it hard. "It doesn't sound like it's dead. ”

The woman, Medici, the chief of the Crazy Horse tribe, just let out a mocking laugh like a silver bell, as if she had heard some of the funniest jokes in the world. She jerked open her Shaka robe, revealing her nakedness. Muhadi saw a pair of strong and round thighs, without a trace of fat, and even saw the bush of thick golden hair at the base of the thighs,

The chief sheikh shouted, "Look hard, Tyr's minions! My tools are still there, and I can make many sons, you can kill them if you want!"

The plan did not go well, and the fierce female chief did not fall for Muhadi at all, and was not attracted to storm the trading post, so there was no opportunity for the elven warriors on both wings to take advantage of the gap.

"You're done, your pointy-eared friends are done, and I'm going to torture you in the afterlife!" said Gaston, who was tied to a rotten log, enduring the sharp pain in his thighs and the growing pressure in front of his throat.

The boy he scolded turned his head and smiled like a friend in his eyes that showed bitter hatred and disgust like a wounded wolf. "Watch carefully, maybe before you are strangled, you will see the destruction of your own tribe......"

Muhadi continued, "I assure you of that. ”

----------------------------------------------------- readers familiar with history can actually see from the names "Gaston" and "Medici", that the prototype of this new character is Marie de Medici. A heroine of history that I admire so much.

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