Hassan was far more powerful than he had imagined, and the thought came to Muhadi when he was kicked and kicked. Misled by the literary image of the earth, the elves may be weaker in the novel, but in this world of Atas, they are absolutely strong and deadly.

Muhadi's mouth was filled with blood and bile, bitter and fishy, and the spirit that barely used his power could make his mind cloudy and dull everything around him. All I remember was that I returned to the tent with Fatoumah's help, and then fell headlong to the ground.

By the time I woke up, it was already the early hours of the next morning. The days in the desert are scorching, but the period before the sun rises can be unusually cold. Muhadi looked around and found himself in a spacious tent, the skeleton of an unknown animal had been set up as a tent support, and the tent was littered with miscellaneous items and weapons, with a scimitar and a bone bow randomly placed in the corner. Only then did Muhathir find himself lying naked on a blanket.

"Aha, you're awake. Fatoumah's voice came, "Overusing psionic energy, I thought you were going to lie down for days, then I would have to throw you back into the desert." She wore a close-fitting coat, and her limbs and shoulders were bare. There is no headband, revealing the elves' long ears.

Fatumah dangled nonchalantly in front of Muhadi's eyes, picking up a piece of clothing and putting it on. "Are you ready to get out? We're going to leave soon. ”

Muhadi felt a sense of weakness, "My clothes. He said weakly.

"It's all on the ground, you can pick it up yourself, do you want me to help you?" said Fatuma.

"Again. As if realizing something, Fatoumah suddenly turned around, rode on top of Muhadi, lifted his chin with one finger, and said with a teasing look, "My little slave is shy? Don't worry, I didn't take the opportunity to use you last night. ”

Muhadi's face was hot, and he picked up his clothes as calmly as he could. "How are we going and where are we going?"

"Ride a horse. Go where you need to go. The maiden replied in a tone of course, "Prophet, you must be able to ride a horse." ”

"A little. Muhadi replied, but he did not say that he had only ridden a castrated horse or a mare, and that they had never ridden a desert horse.

"But where did I get my horse?" Muhadi asked the second question.

"We have spare horses, and the riders rotate them to save horsepower. You can ride my spare horse. The girl replied.

"How's Hassan?" Muhati asked bitterly, wondering if he would come back to trouble him.

"It's still the same as usual, a stinky face, a rotten mouth, and a stupid head. Fatuma said. "But he's a bit of a bit of a game, and I'm surprised that you hurt him. ”

"It's a pity that I'm too far behind him in strength. Muhadi continued.

"I am far behind him in strength, but it is not difficult for me to slaughter him. Your skills are good, but unfortunately too slow. If you win, you will be in trouble, Hassan has a wife and a daughter, and if you kill him in a duel, you will have to take care of these two people in the future. Fatoumah uttered shocking words in a nonchalant tone.

"He still has a wife and a daughter?!" Muhati asked in surprise, "And why should I take care of his wife and daughter if I win?!"

Fatoumah glared at him, "You don't understand anything, don't you?" That's how duels are the rules, and if you win, the loser's horse, his scimitar and property, his wife and daughter, are all yours. ”

"And what if I lose?"

"You are a slave and have no property. Fatumah said unceremoniously, "At most, I will give away my life, but I don't have to pay him anything." However, in the end, the red hand stopped the duel, so it was now a draw. ”

"'Red hand'?" Mouhadi wondered.

"That's the leader of our team, the old man. The Red Hand is his title, similar to the 'Bey' in your human language, or the military leader, and is the largest in the tribe except for the chief. "Don't underestimate him, he was a crazy warrior when he was young, and even now he is not bad." He had six pillars in front of the tent in the tribe. ”

"What do you mean by six pillars?"

"It means that he has gained more than fifty levels, stupid. Every adult warrior in the tribe would have a pillar planted in front of their house to collect the ranks of their enemies. Ten levels in one pillar means that he has become a great warrior, and he has six pillars, what do you think that means?"

It's a fierce folk style, and Muhati thinks that the elven nomadic tribes he has encountered are too different from those in ordinary novels.

"Is there any way to change status as a slave?" Muhati asked after a pause, as offending as possible. "Can you be a samurai instead of a slave?"

Fatoumah was stunned, then laughed maniacally, as if Muhadi had told some big joke. "Little slave, you still yearn for freedom? You're such a rare comedic genius, and I like that. ”

"There is no absolute freedom in the desert, everyone is limited by fate. But everyone in the desert also has their own freedom, if you want to be a slave, simple, propose a duel to me, and then win!"

"But don't measure me by that Hassan's level," Fatumah patted the dagger hanging from his waist, "and his knife was slow to cut my shadow. ”

"I have no intention of challenging you. Fatoumai. Muhathir said.

"I don't dare. The girl smiled again, "You will be a top slave, I am almost eighteen years old, by your human standards, almost fourteen." Soon to be married, a slave with psychic abilities can be a very valuable dowry. ”

I'm just a dowry? But for now, I can only endure it, and wait until I fully integrate into this world. Another point in her words is very interesting, the eighteen-year-old of the elf is equivalent to the fourteen-year-old of the human being? It seems that in this world, although the elves still live a long life, they cannot reach the age of several hundred years.

After the two of them finished dressing, they were ready to leave, these elven tribesmen moved as fast as the wind, and a group of people quickly packed up the tent, and carefully covered up the traces of the fire that had once camped here. It took only ten minutes to prepare.

Muhadi cautiously rode the horse that was now his own, a large stallion, unprovoked, more than six feet high at the shoulders, with white body hair and black distilled hair, and a tail rising high.

The beast had a bad temper, and now Muhadi wanted to ride it, struggling and jumping with all his might. Nearly knocked the boy off his horse. Muhati nervously clutched the reins and mane, barely showing his foreign appearance.

The people around him didn't pay much attention to him, except for Fatoumah's smile, which was half encouraging, half mocking. The leader glanced at him coldly, and then turned his head to look elsewhere.

Fortunately, although the horse is unruly, the saddle in this world is similar to that on earth, except that the stirrups are two leather holsters, not metal. In connection with last night's two scimitars, both of them were obsidian, and it seems that in this world, metal is very scarce.

A group of people just beat the horses out, and no one said much along the way. The old man who led the way led the way, and the rest of the people followed closely behind him. Occasionally, the comprehension stopped, dismounted and looked around, as if looking for something.

The leader licked his fingers, then stretched out his fingers to sense it, and turned back to give a loud command. "The wind direction is about to change, let's add, that group can't escape far!"

The knights immediately let out a howl like a wolf, and each of them drove his horse to run faster, "mapш!" and Muhati shouted in return, "mapш!mapш!"

It turned out that they were chasing another group, but they saved me halfway, and it seems that I was lucky to survive in the desert.

Riding on a horse and speeding on the sand, it felt as if you were flying, and the scorching wind blew in your face, and the sand particles splashed by the horse in front of you hit your body from time to time. These elven nomads are surprisingly familiar with the desert terrain, almost instinctively avoiding dangerous areas of quicksand and sand snakes that almost blend in with the sand.

Just as Muhathir began to wonder when the chase would end, a row of tiny black dots appeared on the horizon in the distance.

The excitement of the elven riders spread out without words, and everyone drew the scimitar at their waist, and Muhadi also drew the scimitar with the same knowledge. A young rider riding beside Muhati grinned at him with encouragement. Fatumah rode a little ahead, holding a smaller scimitar in her left hand and a metal dagger in her right hand that she had scavenged from Muhadi the previous night, and let go of the reins and controlled the horse with only her legs.

The black dots grew larger, revealing the silhouette of a human figure and a horse carrying a cargo, as well as some strange large animals that looked like giant beetles magnified countless times.

P.S Attas's environment is extremely harsh, according to the second version setting, Atas elves are 18 years old adults, and the average life expectancy is only 14o years old. Humanity is even shorter-lived, with the vast majority not living to be fifty.

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