The little tribe had been wiped out to the last household; its blood had turned to ash, leaving behind a scene of utter misery.
The big, burly Elder Bashan said in anger:
"Young Master, we must hurry after them, flay those thieves of the Shugu Tribe and pull out their sinews, to comfort the spirits of these clansmen in heaven."
Beside him, the steady Elder Bachuan also looked solemn and nodded. "If we don't pursue them sooner, those Shugu thieves may leave no trace at all."
Danzhu's gaze was sharp as he nodded and said, "Good."
But the problem that followed was that they did not know where these thieves of the Shugu Tribe had fled, or in what direction they should pursue them.
After all, a full day had already passed. The thieves of the Shugu Tribe must have fled far away.
Once they chased in the wrong direction, driving the chariot south while the destination lay north, the trip would be wasted.
Not only would they fail to take revenge, they might even become the laughingstock of the other tribes.
The two elders, Bashan and Bachuan, wanted to first search the surroundings for traces, then determine the direction in which the Shugu Tribe had fled.
Mo Hua, however, lightly pointed west. "They fled that way."
Bashan was startled and asked, "How do you know?"
Mo Hua pointed up at the sky. "The God Lord told me."
Bashan choked, his face turning ugly.
Danzhu glanced at Mo Hua and pondered for a moment, then said decisively, "Good. We'll pursue them west."
"Young Master..." Bashan still wanted to persuade him to be cautious.
After all, once they chased in the wrong direction, they would miss their chance and have to waste far too many twists and turns.
But Danzhu left