Twin Scrolls of Doubt Entwine the Desert Tent, Unclear Dust Clouds Foretell Returning Calamity

"Beat him hard!"

The scout commander barked the order, his gaze icy and piercing. "If he won't tell the truth, keep beating him! Break his legs, cut off the rest of his fingers—I want to see how long that stubborn mouth of his can hold out! I refuse to believe we can't pry his mouth open and get the truth!"

Several Xiongnu scouts immediately surrounded him. The whips and clubs in their hands came crashing down mercilessly upon the soldier, accompanied by a rain of fists and kicks.

The whips cracked sharply against his body—snap, snap—tearing through his robes in an instant and leaving streak after streak of blood-red welts.

The clubs slammed into his shoulders and back with dull thuds, every blow followed by the soldier's piercing screams.

His screams echoed across the silent grasslands, especially shrill, yet they failed to move these savage Xiongnu scouts in the slightest.

The soldier had already had one finger cut off, the wound still bleeding. Now, after such a vicious beating, the pain nearly made him pass out. His entire body was covered in wounds, blood soaking through his robes and sticking them to his skin. Even the slightest movement sent piercing pain through his heart.

He felt so wronged that he nearly cried.

Damn it, everything I said was what I experienced firsthand—not a single word was false! I was kindly telling you to surrender so you wouldn't throw your lives away for nothing, yet you bastards beat me again without even bothering to distinguish black from white?

Have dogs eaten every last scrap of your conscience?

As he endured the agonizing pain, he kept trying to explain himself, shouting hoarsely, "Everything I said is true! I wasn't lying! The Blood-Clad Army really is that terrifying! Believe me..."

But the Xiongnu