Batou could not understand the actions of his companions. He had told them what was going to happen to the team, and that they would not be against a few men and a few horses, but at least three tribes! What would that be like? Batu didn't know, for he hadn't seen it since he was born. But the old men of the tribe said that when there were enough riders, the dust raised by the horses' hooves would obscure the sky like a sandstorm when they came. The boy had dreamed of such a scene, but now he was one of the riders leading the sandstorm, not as a powerless resistor against the razor-sharp scimitars and deadly arrows of the sons of the steppe. According to his thoughts, the only way to survive was to abandon the carriage immediately and approach the Hammer Leader.

But no one in this team seems to think so except for Batu. Atalanta had no idea what it would be like to be targeted by a plurality of nomadic tribes, and Lothar and Cheese showed unusual composure. For both of them, the situation was not enough to panic them, and time had given them more composure as they grew older, and both Lothar and Cheese had experienced more desperate opponents than the nomads.

"Naren, if I die, you will peck out my eyeballs and eat them. So I can see what you see. The boy said to his companion in frustration as the carriage departed.

But as Cheese said before, they have no intention of sitting still. Even if they are not afraid of the nomads' impending attack, the mage is still accustomed to obtaining the details of the opponent first. This opportunity, on the second day. As the carriage continued to move slowly across the prairie against the rising sun, the dark shadow that had watched them from afar reappeared in the earl's field of vision.

"Today is the third day. When the sun goes down today, the leaders of the tribe gather around the campfire for the shaman to pray for them. They would smoke cigarettes made of herbs, sing songs in praise of their ancestors, and drink wine stained with the blood of each head. When the day comes, the shaman will erect four stakes next to the embers of the campfire, and our heads will be stuck on the stakes at the brightest of the full moon...", Batu seemed to have lost all fighting spirit and desire to survive, and sat next to Lothar muttering mechanically. He was familiar with the traditions of his people and knew what they would do.

"Sounds good, especially the smoking. You know that I got into the habit of chewing tobacco leaves when I was in Heartbreak, but then I was forced to quit because I thought it was not a good effect. The Count held the reins nonchalantly, and his lips twitched a few times, as if he missed the smell of tobacco. Although he made the appearance of continuing to drive the car, his eyes remained fixed on the dark shadow in the distance. Lothar muttered quietly as the words fell, "It's too far away, the steppe people know the range of our bows and arrows." No matter how accurate you are, it's useless if you can't shoot. ”

"Not necessarily, you have to understand that when the wind blows, the arrows can always fly farther than people think, like an eagle. Cheese's voice came from the carriage, and he reached through the curtain and removed the feathers from Batuu's hat, which were the feathers of his falcon, "borrow your hat ornament and use it." ”

Batu was about to snatch his treasure back, but an arrow had already protruded from the curtain, and he quickly withdrew his hand in fright. The metal part of this arrow is impregnated with dark grass juice and loses its ability to reflect light in the sun. At the same time, on the shaft of the arrow, the hat that Batu wanted to retrieve was firmly tied with thin wire. It's just that the hand that pulls the bow in the carriage is not as smooth as the feathers that are tied.

"Look at how the girl is shaking, I think I have to shoot this arrow. Otherwise, her arrows would have hit me or Batuu's heads!" said the Count, holding the stalk of grass in his mouth, in a brisk and excited tone. Regardless, he was still happy to see the magic of cheese after a long absence.

Meanwhile, the cheese in the carriage was kneeling beside Atta, holding the arrows in both hands, whispering the last syllables. "Elves are natural archers, and it is said that they gave the elves one of the world's first bows. Besides, Atta's eyesight is better than yours, we can't shoot that spy to death or scare him away, we need the intel from his mouth. ”

After the mage finished speaking, he gently patted the female swordsman on the shoulder, "Take a deep breath and relax." Trust your instincts and it will tell you when to release your arrows. ”

Lothar shrugged his shoulders as he listened to the voice behind him, and exaggeratedly hugged Batu beside him, holding the latter to prevent him from moving, but he was not afraid that the arrow behind him would stick into their backs because of this action, "Boy, you have to thank us, and the next thing, I promise you will never grow so big." ”

"Whoosh!" Before the Count's words could fall, Atta's hand tightening the bowstring loosened. Arrows tied to eagle feathers shot into the air. When Batu saw this scene, he subconsciously frowned. It wasn't that he couldn't understand the men's train of thought, who were clearly trying to shoot the watchers and dig out the news of the clan union from their mouths. But the boy had already given a negative judgment in his mind about this reckless plan. He knew that the bow of the Grey Lion was a little larger and had a longer range than the nomad's. However, he also knew that the arrows fired by such a large bow were actually not very lethal at the far end of its range, and besides, in such a clear weather, there was no reason why the watcher could not see the arrows flying towards him.

"Chirp!" the loud cry of the eagle interrupted Batu's thoughts, and the boy opened his eyes wide and watched with an incredible gaze as his falcon caught the arrow from the air with its talons, and then spread its wings and flew close to the watcher with a gust of air currents above, and while the latter was still thinking about what flew out of the carriage into the air, the eagle let go of its claws, and the arrow fell straight down, as fast as if it had just left the string!

"Shot!" Lothar was the first to shout in cheer, and he jumped out of the carriage and ran towards the dark shadow that had fallen from his horse in the distance. Soon after, he returned with a man who had been hit by an arrow in the shoulder.

"His horse is gone, the horse knows the way, and the guys will find out that something has happened to their scout. The attack is likely to be advanced as a result, so it's better for this guy to have something useful in his mouth. The Count said, unceremoniously pulling the arrow from the captive's shoulder, causing the latter to cry out in pain. He threw the rod with the eagle feather tied to Batu and returned it to its rightful owner.

"That's enough, nomads generally have very tight mouths, but we have handy props this time. The mage stepped down from the carriage and looked condescendingly at the scout who was held on the ground, and the prop he was talking about was naturally the magic sword in the hands of the female swordsman who could make people spit out the truth, Frakrag.