Qingmu involuntarily took half a step back.
With this half-step back, his taut Mental Power relaxed. He felt his consciousness float up, as if the leaves of a tree were swept into the air by the autumn wind, dancing wildly.
He quickly regained his composure, his Mental Power refocused, and he took control of the scepter and the myriad branches in his hand.
The leaves swirling in the air were drawn back by the tree trunk, returning to their respective branches and swaying incessantly in the wind, making a rustling sound.
However, his momentary lapse in concentration caused problems with his command. Although it was only a fleeting instant, like blinking, so short as to be almost negligible, in such a tense battle, even that brief moment could be fatal.
A spear pierced the stomach of a savage, and blood gushed out.
Qingmu felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, as if the spear had pierced his body. Now he could understand what the octopus felt when its tentacles were severed. Although it wouldn't die, the pain was unavoidable.
Every time someone on his side is injured or dies, the information is directly transmitted to Qingmu's brain, making him feel as if he himself has been injured or died.
He finally understood why all three sides fought so cautiously during the battle.
In the past, only the soldiers charging at the front truly felt the threat of death and the pain of injury. Commanders, on the other hand, spent most of their time in rear camps, untouched by swords or bloodshed. Soldiers' deaths were commonplace in their eyes. As brilliant military commanders, they were cold-blooded; in their eyes, war had only two outcomes: victory or defeat. How many died, how many were wounded, or how many would spend their lives in agony was irrelevant. If victory required sacrificing lives, they wouldn't hesitate to push all their soldiers under the enemy's bayonets.
However, in this octopus-like tactical system, when the commander's and soldiers' consciousness are closely linked, each soldier is an extension of the commander's body, and the soldier's feelings are truly transmitted to the commander. Every time a soldier is injured, it is as if the commander is injured; every time a soldier feels pain, the commander's brain will simulate the same pain.
When hundreds or thousands of soldiers are wounded, and their pain accumulates, the commander suffers far more intense pain than the soldiers, especially death. Perhaps you can die a quick death, but that's only because no one dies twice. No one can bear the pain of dying twice, or even a hundred or a thousand times.
Many people who are ill or under torture pray for death to come quickly, because death is the end of everything. No matter how terrible or unbearable the pain of death may be, once you are dead, you will never wake up again and will no longer suffer.
However, Qingmu can no longer end it all. He is dead, yet he still lives.
As the savage fell, blood gushed from his mouth like foam from a freshly opened beer can. His facial muscles contorted, his eyes fixed on the sky, a mixture of clinging to life and the agony of impending death. A spear pierced his stomach; its thick, uneven shaft, studded with natural thorns from trees, pulled back, tearing out his intestines in the process.
Qingmu's stomach convulsed, and he felt like he was about to die. In his mind, he saw his intestines hanging out of his stomach, and his brain sent out a strong death signal.
The feeling of death enveloped him. It was so familiar, as if he had experienced it before. However, before he could search his memory for it, everything suddenly went black, and his head began to throb with pain.
Another savage had been shot in the eye by an arrow; he reached out and pulled the arrow out, but then he could no longer see.
Another savage was also hit in the cheek by an arrow; the wooden arrow entered from the left cheek and came out through the right, knocking out several teeth, which he spat out along with a mouthful of blood.
A savage woman had a broken arm, but she didn't fall; instead, she charged forward, spear in hand.
All these injuries, deaths, and sufferings were happening to Qingmu, simulating in his mind. He had only relaxed his guard for a moment, and in the blink of an eye, three of his men had died and about ten were wounded. And those wounded probably wouldn't last much longer.
He keeps dying, yet he can't help but live.
Qingmu endured all the pain and used his Mental Power to hold the line in the battle. But the enemy seemed to have him cornered, unleashing wave after wave of mental storms that left him only able to parry, unable to retaliate.
At this point, the advantage of two against one became apparent. Qingmu's weakness allowed the enemy to relentlessly pursue him, giving Situ an opportunity to attack. One after another, mental boulders were hurled like cannonballs, and his tribe's savages also launched a charge, inflicting considerable losses on the enemy.
Qingmu's mental pressure immediately eased, and he stretched his body. His consciousness suddenly expanded, transforming into a larger tree, its branches like ancient serpents, winding their way towards the battlefield, sweeping back and forth in the valley, disrupting the raging winds.
He heard a few words called out "Uri wa la dete yi ting" from the other side in his mind. Judging from his consciousness, it should be swear words. Only that powerful wizard could transmit swear words through his Mental Power.
The shaman probably realized that the two tribes had joined forces, so he immediately withdrew his power and adopted a defensive stance. His Mental Power was indeed very strong, and after adopting a defensive stance, even though Qingmu and Situ worked together, they could not do anything to him.
His Mental Power storm was like a huge, invisible energy shield. Qingmu's mental branches pounded against it, and Situ's mental projectiles rained down on it, but they could not break through his defenses.
A balance was restored among the three parties, and everyone became cautious, slowing down their attacks. After a while, a truce was declared.
Qingmu did not withdraw his Mental Power; the massive tree stretched out, blocking out the sun, to prevent a sudden attack from the other side.
The savages began to clean up the battlefield. They dragged their companions back to their camps. Unlike other battle scenes, at this time, even if people from different tribes bumped into each other, they would not fight. Instead, they would quickly drag their companions' corpses or pick up the bows and arrows on the ground and leave.
The losses on Qingmu's side were clearly the greatest among the three tribes, with a total of more than a dozen people dead and twenty or thirty wounded, some of whom were seriously injured and on the verge of death.
Some savages had already begun to build fires on the ground and drag the dead bodies to the fires.
Mrs. Larry suddenly became agitated and shouted at them in the language of the savages, and the savages stopped moving and turned to look at Qingmu.