Wu Ri Muhao felt that he had grown old.
As one of the three great tribes of the Northern Barbarians, the Wu Ri Tribe had always harbored ambitions of dominating the Northern Barbarians.
When Boerhu emerged like a comet across the sky, Wu Ri Muhao had once believed that the Wu Ri Tribe's centuries-old ambition was finally about to be realized!
Instead, the Grand Elder had died, and Boerhu had suffered severe injuries.
The tribe's fortune had been damaged.
The Tribe-Protecting Grand Array had been cursed!
These experiences made Wu Ri Muhao begin to reflect on whether he had made a mistake.
If they had guarded the tribe peacefully, many people might never have had to die.
At first, Wu Ri Muhao had opposed joining the other tribes to launch another attack against the Great Blue Dynasty.
But he could not withstand his daughter's repeated pleas, and many young warriors in the tribe still had hot blood coursing through their veins.
An eagle that had yet to grow old truly should not spend its days guarding its nest.
In the end, Wu Ri Muhao handed most of the tribe's elite forces to Boerhu, while he himself remained at the headquarters camp.
"If we lose again this time, you must come back alive. The sun of the Wu Ri Tribe will never fall."
Before departing, Wu Ri Muhao had said this to Boerhu.
The words sounded somewhat ominous, but for those who ventured out to fight, knowing that someone would always have their backs made them feel secure.
"Father, look! I hunted it!"
A young man dressed in crimson martial attire, with rather refined features, approached Wu Ri Muhao while carrying a Horned Leopard Beast weighing over two thousand pounds in one hand.
A smile appeared on Wu Ri Muhao's face,