The most powerful tribe in the desert near Tyre, the Crazy Horse Tribe had over a thousand warriors, as well as many captured or bought war slaves. Although they were desperately short of metal weapons, they made some of the finest compound shortbows in the desert, and their warriors were accustomed to weakening their opponents with a rain of arrows, splitting their formations, and then rushing up to smash them to pieces with blunt weapons such as stone hammers.

Some say that the Crazy Horse tribe got its name from their crazy fighting style. Generally speaking, elven warriors like to control their horses under their crotch and stagger their opponents, cutting off their opponents' heads with their scimitars at the moment of misalignment. But the samurai of the Crazy Horse tribe are different, and they will control the horses to crash straight into the opponent's horse, knocking the opponent over.

This method of warfare generally works, because the Crazy Horse tribe breeds the largest horses in the desert, reaching more than 2,200 pounds. Even if they and their opponents fall at the same time, the samurai of the Crazy Horse tribe will use their skilled ground fighting skills to suppress their enemies.

In tribal warfare, halfling tribes were accustomed to killing captives and wounded and eating the flesh and blood of their opponents, elven tribes were to cut off the heads of enemy warriors and sell women and children to slave traders, while human tribes generally cut off men's scalps and snatched back captured women. Therefore, some members of the so-called human tribe are actually mixed-blood, and there are many half-elves or elven descendants who exist. (Halfling and dwarf females are limited in size and have difficulty giving birth to 'normal' sized babies)

Human tribes are more tolerant than other nomadic herders. Their women are more bold and open than the more conservative elven tribesmen, and they also have a greater say in tribal affairs. It is even said that the chief of this Crazy Horse tribe is a woman and is called "Born on the Battlefield". Her mother went to war when she was pregnant and fought alongside her father. Mortally wounded in battle, her father had to cut open his wife's big belly so that she could see the child before she died. This made her considered by her fellow tribesmen to be blessed from birth.

It is obviously impossible for such an army of nearly 1,000 Crazy Horse tribes in front of him to come out to attack the caravan. Appearing in this place indicates that they have only one purpose, which is to reinforce the trading post where some members of the Crazy Horse tribe stay.

The Scorpion tribe came out, and the Crazy Horse tribe sent a large number of people to rush to reinforcements, is it because someone leaked the news, or is it just that the Crazy Horse tribe happened to be lucky?

Muhadi was unable to make a judgment for a moment, so he could only slowly retreat from where he was hiding without making a sound. He waited until he had retreated at least a hundred feet before he got up half-straight, bent over and ran away quietly.

The boy began to think that the people of the Scorpion tribe should have already been out, and there was no possibility that this would make them turn back. However, judging by the march of this Crazy Horse tribe, they will have to walk for at least two days to reach the trading post, and if I don't spare my horsepower and go all the way, I can get half a day ahead of them. That would remind the Scorpio people.

Muhadi walked up to his mount and stroked its neck and sideburns with some pity, thinking to himself. It seems that he is destined to have no chance with the horse, and he will have to sacrifice the horse so soon.

While thinking, the boy rolled over on his horse and clamped his legs. The tall horse pulled out a lump of dung at once, then neighed happily and began to gallop with all its might.

To speed things up, Muhati used his psionic powers to influence the horse's mind, making the poor animal think that there was a huge monster chasing after him, and an endless meadow ahead. Involuntarily, the glands on its body began to secrete hormones all frantically, and their lives were overdrawn at a terrible rate.

Due to the bumps, the teenager had to stand up half-by relying on stirrups and his butt off the horse's back. If you run wildly at this level, if you sit in the saddle with a big grin, you will soon be dizzy, and your inner thighs will bleed from repeated friction.

The light of the twin moons was rarely obscured by a thin cloud, making him barely make out the passable terrain. Occasionally, a large poisonous scorpion or other strange-looking insect one or two feet long would emerge from the ground, but he cleverly avoided it without causing any trouble.

By the time the moon had reached the zenith, the night was almost over, and the wind in the desert was getting stronger, and the boy tightened his turban to keep the sand from blowing into his airways.

Muhadi didn't have a tent with him, and he couldn't guarantee that he would find shade during the day, so he had to stop for a moment before the sun rose to allow the horse to recover a little, because he would have to run all day.

His own infantry, as well as Fahd's men, and Fatoumah's men, were able to get to the trading post before the Crazy Horse tribesmen. But there won't be a lot of time left for them, and if it takes too long to clean up the trading post, they will be attacked from both sides by the Crazy Horse tribe.

Fahd and Fatoumah were cautious, and in order to prevent the hostile tribes from raiding their settlements, they would only bring the necessary men, so that even with the addition of Muhadi's men, it would not be possible to exceed 700 men. Even if you face the reinforcements of the Crazy Horse tribe alone, you don't have enough strength, not to mention what the fate will be if you are attacked.

If the Scorpion tribe had confessed here, the loss of an ally in Tyre might not be a big deal. If you lose a hundred soldiers, you will not be able to give an account to the ruling parliament at that time. If it is found by the council to be misdirected, the end will be miserable.

The sun finally rose in Atas, and the oncoming wind became spicy, and Muhadi poured a mouthful of mare's milk from the bladder, spit out the pits of the pit in his mouth, and prepared to move on.

Before long, sweat was running down his cheeks, wetting the towel. His cheeks also became rosy, and the power of the desert sun was so great that even a psychic warlock who was good at adjusting his physical state was not completely immune.

There was once a Witch King who tried to rule the Great Desert beyond the city-state, using his magic to eliminate some of the chieftains of the tribes, but many more desert dwellers rose up against his rule and attacked his tax collectors and Templar patrols. Many of the rebel army flags fluttered into the desert, only to disappear like dew in the sun.

The Witch King had to give up the idea of ruling the desert directly, and he couldn't leave his city-state forever to give the other Witch Kings a chance to do it. "The Buraku have two weapons, the scimitar and the sun. The conceited Witch King wrote in his conquest, "Of the two, the sun is deadlier."

The corners of the horse's mouth spit out red bubbles, and the lobes of its lungs have burst.

It is better to die one horse than many people. With this in mind, Muhathir continued to squeeze the last ounce of strength from his mount without mercy.

In the evening, the horse was finally overwhelmed, and fell to the ground with a limp. Muhadi wasted no time in jumping down before it fell to the ground, then slit its throat with a saber.

Horse blood stinks, but at least it's better than nothing. The boy leaned over the horse's neck and drank a full meal, and when he was still hungry, he cut off the horse's flesh piece by piece and sucked out the blood from it.

Not a very good supply, the boy thought as he cut off the horse's flesh and collected it. The horse's blood is too salty, and no matter how much you drink it, you're still a little thirsty.

Finally, Muhadi wiped his mouth with a turban, then unsaddled his saddle, put it on his body, and walked the last few parasans on his legs.

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