Bet on the Right Horse
The Seventh Province, Roman Great Wall.
Outside the high walls, the once lush green grass is now riddled with thousands of cone-shaped holes of all sizes. The turf has been torn apart and scattered everywhere, along with scorched black soil that is emitting blue smoke.
Arrows and broken weapons, like bushes rooted in the battlefield, lay scattered and sprawling, while tattered flags wailed in the fierce wind, sounding like ghostly cries.
The corpses, lying piled one on top of the other, almost filled the ravines on the ground. There were Huns, Romans, and Celts among them. Their crimson blood either seeped into the soil, staining the mud a dark red, or hardened into clumps, forming eerie marks.
In areas where ether was concentrated, many still emanated a magical aura. The embers of the flames continued to burn, and the charred, curled-up corpses in those flames, as well as the bits of flesh and severed limbs buried under the soil, emitted the smell of rotting flesh.
Flocks of vultures, crows, and other scavenging birds gathered together, following the scent of carrion, and landed on the piles of corpses, pecking at the eyes, livers, and bits of flesh of the dead.
Several large, bluish-gray wolves, with arrows stuck in their backs and dried blood flowing from their wounds, shook their bodies, shaking off the corpses and clods of earth that had been piled on top of them, and whimpered as they buried their heads and ate the dead around them.
A long, triangular arrow with a pointed tip, shot from a cedar bow, pierced the air with a sharp whistling sound, and struck a giant wolf that was devouring a carcass through its eye socket, penetrating its skull and killing it instantly.
The slightly overweight governor spat out a mouthful of spittle that tasted of rust and ash, lowered his longbow, and waved downwards.
As the winches creaked and groaned, the gates of the fortress slowly opened, and several groups of Zhou soldiers, swords and shields raised, swept across the battlefield in a scattered yet orderly fashion.
Puff puff...
Along the way, the troop would finish off wounded enemy soldiers and giant wolves with tenacious willpower on the battlefield, while dragging out their own wounded soldiers who still had a chance of being treated and bringing them into the city for treatment.
Under the blood-red setting sun, scavenging birds, startled, took flight.
The flames rose and burned fiercely, and plumes of black smoke soared upwards, carrying the nauseating stench of burning flesh.
But these unusual energies gave the people on the city walls a strange sense of relief and relaxation.
Call...
This wave of probing has finally come to an end.
The slightly overweight governor dropped his longbow, slid against the wall to the ground, and finally collapsed onto the uneven stone slab, panting heavily.
Looking further away, from above, one can see that the once majestic Roman Great Wall, stretching for several kilometers, is now riddled with cracks and breaches. Inside and outside the walls, arrows embedded in the rocks are everywhere, and pools of blood have not yet dried.
Clearly, this fierce battle with the Hunnic Wolf Riders was not an easy victory.
Fortunately, we made the right bet!
If I hadn't been careful and remembered the young god's warning, and hadn't done more for the nearby Celtic tribes, the Celts reinforcements, let alone causing trouble, would have been wiped out here if they had just been thinking about preserving their strength and arrived a little later.
Moreover, even without that woman from the Land of Shadows of Boudica who brought in Attila the Hun, the defenses still couldn't hold.
Despite the current state of the fortress, which appears quite desolate and the number of dead on the battlefield is incalculable, the intensity of the war has been decreasing since Attila the Hun suffered his first defeat.
According to the scouts' reports, the Hunnic Wolf Riders seem to have withdrawn about 10 li away. The previous attack was probably the last test.
Tonight, he can finally get a good night's sleep.
At that time, the Hunnic tribes were in the Golden Horde Royal Court.
From the distant barracks, the sounds of wounded soldiers being roughly treated echoed through the air, and the thick stench of blood filled the air. Ten thousand giant wolves lay coiled on the grass, licking their wounds with low growls.
Awoo!
Just as the atmosphere was oppressive and gloomy, a group of giant gray-blue wolves sniffed and became agitated, their heads drooping as they stared intently at the piles of entrails and scraps of meat being pushed out of the kitchen by a cart.
The rich ether made these animals wag their tails excitedly, drooling as they chased after the carts carrying the Lower Waters.
"Eat up, eat up, you wolf cubs, this time you'll have plenty!"
The old shaman, with a new wound on his face, laughed and cursed as he grabbed a liver from the cart and threw it at the wolves, sparking a scramble. Then, losing interest, he got up and walked towards the large tent with its golden roof.
"Your Majesty, what are you thinking about? You seem so engrossed."
Then, the old shaman lifted the curtain, stepped inside, and woke up the silver-haired girl who was lost in thought in the corner.
Do you think there will be a heaven?
"There probably are..."
"Why?"
"That's what the older generation says, so we just believe it."
"No evidence? What if it doesn't even exist? According to the dreams in my mind, we've spent so much time and lost so many of our people trying to find that place, like..."
This outrageously casual answer caused Attila to frown deeply and mutter to herself.
Failure after failure, countless familiar or unfamiliar faces falling before her, though the voice in her head kept telling her to continue forging a path and carrying out the exploration plan, the more she thought about it, the more confused and wavering she became about that resonance.
Is this important?
The old shaman interrupted Attila's chaotic thoughts with a casual smile.
"Is it not important? This is exactly what we've been searching for..."
Attila's cherry lips were tightly pressed together, her thoughts were in disarray, and she appeared even more bewildered.
"Your Majesty, a person needs something to look forward to while they are alive..."
Whether you lead us to a glorious return to heaven or to expand our territory, as long as you can gather our people together and simply follow in your footsteps, that is enough. Whether the final outcome is achieved is not so important.
The old shaman's ravaged face had some profound meaning that even the King of the Huns could not understand. The eyes that looked up to the sky showed the emotion that had washed away the years.
"When I was young, I did good deeds like saving people and healing the sick, and I also did evil deeds like murder and arson. Even if I find heaven, the heavens may not let me in."
Now that I'm old, I don't have as many ambitions or extravagant desires. While I'm alive, isn't it good enough to just fight, herd sheep, eat, and sleep peacefully? When I'm taking a break, I'll have a bowl of butter tea and a roasted lamb. Mmm, the taste is indescribable.
After he died, his old bones were rolled up and thrown onto a cart, where they fell to some random spot as the cart bounced around.
Having eaten so many wolves and eagles, let them taste human flesh too. The leftovers from their corpses can fertilize the land and pastures there, fattening up our lambs next year. That's how they'll live their lives.
Besides, the Huns had a hard life before, but since you came, we have food and clothing. Even in heaven, we may not have this kind of blessing. What we wanted, we have already enjoyed.
So you don't need to take on any responsibility for us; just do whatever you want.
Then, the old man smiled and clapped his hands, and the two shamans waiting outside the tent carried the golden-brown, chilled meat patties into the house.
"Here, this is the Dragon Meat you've been enjoying lately. We prepared it specially. Don't worry about anything else, eating your fill is the most important thing. Try it..."