Cutting Down the Banner

Shulitu was deeply shaken.

Compared with most Northerners, he had read many books and received a brief but excellent education. He knew how to leverage his position and status, winning his subjects' loyalty with both kindness and authority. The Dragon King's gamble, however, was entirely beyond his understanding.

The Dragon King was trying to turn fear and doubt into reverence and obedience. His opponent was the minds of tens of thousands.

As he looked at thousands upon thousands of wavering eyes, Shulitu felt as though he were standing beside a newly captured beast. Untamed and unbroken, the prey radiated deep hostility in its silence, ready at any moment to open its gaping maw and tear apart anyone who came near.

There were more than thirty thousand cavalrymen. Several thousand had been left to him by his grandfather and father, yet even these men seemed like strangers to Shulitu. He had little faith in their loyalty. As for the soldiers from other sources, they inspired even greater wariness and caution.

These were the very cavalrymen who stubbornly believed that the Old Khan King still lived in the sky as the God of Fire, and that his ascension had sent the Demon Bird swooping down to wreak havoc across the grasslands.

Shulitu hardly dared even touch the subject, afraid it would provoke needless anger and swallow him whole. He hoped time would wear away the soldiers' superstitions, while their worship of the Old Khan King would gradually shift to him.

The Dragon King had broken the rules. He had not only raised a controversial subject in public, but also meant to change the course of people's hearts, turning a giant bird everyone feared from a "demon" into a "god."

Shulitu had never been so nervous. He clutched the reins tightly and, like