Showdown on the Plains

A cold wind howled across the open plain, whipping up dry dust and withered grass clippings. Fifty warriors each from the Bison Tribe and the White Pig Tribe stood facing each other across an open space, the air thick with intense hostility and tension. The two leaders— Jijiao on the back of a bull and Zongmao standing at the front of the battle—clashed fiercely in the air, neither willing to back down.

After a long stalemate, Jijiao finally broke the silence, his voice like muffled thunder. "Zongmao! This argument will get nowhere! If we really want to fight, let's have a melee of about a hundred people from each side, with no regard for casualties. Do you dare?"

Zongmao's eyes twitched; of course, he dared not. Valuable warriors were the foundation of the tribe; how could they be wasted on such a petty squabble? He suppressed his anger and said in a deep voice, "A chaotic battle is pointless, only damaging to harmony. Since neither of us wants the chief to personally intervene (he glanced at the bull sitting on its Jijiao, secretly thinking that this barbarian's injuries might not have healed yet, presenting an opportunity, but he himself wasn't entirely confident), perhaps... we should try another method?"

"In what way?" the Jijiao asked in a deep voice, though he was also concerned for his subordinates.

"Each side should send three warriors for a one-on-one duel! Best two out of three! The winner will be the 'elder brother' of the alliance for the next two years, enjoying the dominant power! The duel will be held again in two years!" Zongmao spoke of his long-planned proposal. He had great confidence in his tribe's warriors, especially his son Tunyong.

Jijiao quickly calculated in his mind. He was still injured and unable to fight. Besides himself, Mangu was the strongest in the tribe, Tiejiao and Benniu were also top-notch fighters. Best two out of three rounds, the chances of winning were not small. "Alright! As you say! Stop when you've made your point, don't kill anyone, lest you damage the foundation of the alliance!" He also added restrictions, fearing the loss of elite troops.

"It's a deal!" Zongmao was secretly pleased, each of them harboring their own thoughts, both believing they had gotten the better deal.

The agreement was reached, and the atmosphere eased slightly, but the flames of competition burned even brighter. Both sides retreated, clearing a circular open space about thirty paces in diameter in the middle as the fighting arena. The onlookers held their breath, their eyes burning with anticipation.

First round: Probing and a narrow victory

The first person from the Bison Tribe to step forward was none other than "Tiejiao," known for his fierceness. He was stocky with dark skin, and held a heavy double-edged Shifu in his hand. The handle of the axe was wrapped with sturdy leather straps, and his eyes were fierce, like a bull poised to pounce.

On the White Pig Tribe's side, facing off was the warrior "Liaoya." This man was tall and thin, yet exceptionally agile. His weapons were two Yingmu spears, one long and one short, their tips carefully polished with flint, gleaming coldly. He moved nimbly, slowly circling the Tiejiao, searching for an opening.

"Begin!" With a roar from Jijiao, Tiejiao was the first to attack! He growled and charged forward with heavy steps, swinging his Shifu axe in a wide arc, bringing a fierce gust of wind, aiming straight for the top of Liaoya's head! The Dali, typical of the Bison style, aiming to defeat the enemy in one blow!

Liaoya didn't meet the attack head-on; he had already sensed that his opponent had the upper hand. Just as the Shifu was about to strike, he twisted his waist to the side in a strange way, slipping away half a step like Niqiu. At the same time, his short spear stabbed like a venomous snake towards Tiejiao's exposed ribs from swinging the axe!

"Swoosh!" The short spear left a white mark on Tiejiao's leather armor, failing to penetrate, but it still gave Tiejiao a fright. He roared and swung his axe horizontally with his backhand. Liaoya had already jumped back to create distance, and the spear touched the ground as he continued to move around.

The ensuing battle became a contest of strength and Minjie. Tiejiao launched a fierce attack, his Shifu whistling through the air, smashing shallow craters into the ground and forcing Liaoya to retreat and dodge repeatedly. But Liaoya was extremely slippery, always managing to evade fatal attacks at the last second, and using his spear to stab and poke at opportune moments. Although he could not inflict serious damage, he constantly depleted Tiejiao's stamina, leaving scratches and bruises on his body.

After more than twenty rounds, Tiejiao's breathing became heavy, and his movements slowed down. Liaoya seized an opportunity and, in the instant Tiejiao missed his axe strike and his body momentarily faltered, suddenly lunged forward. Instead of fighting back, he channeled all his strength into his spear and delivered a perfect Thrust, the tip of which aimed directly at the shoulder of Tiejiao -wielding arm!

It was swift and deadly! Tiejiao hurriedly dodged to the side, using the flat of his axe to block. "Clang!" The spear tip struck the side of the Shifu, sparks flying. The immense force caused Tiejiao's arm to go numb, Shifu nearly slipped from his grasp! Liaoya pressed his advantage, the short spear following closely, aimed straight at Tiejiao's knee!

Tiejiao rolled away in a disheveled manner, and when he stood up again, he was panting heavily, sweat beading on his forehead, and his movements were noticeably slow. Liaoya gave him no chance to catch his breath, launching a relentless attack with both long and short spears. After seven or eight more rounds, Tiejiao made a mistake in his parry and was cleverly tripped by Liaoya with the shaft of his spear. He fell to the ground with a thud, the blunt end of the spear already pointing at his throat.

"The White Pig Tribe wins the first round!" the two tribal elders, acting as temporary referees, announced in unison.

"Good!!" A deafening cheer erupted from the White Pig Tribe's camp. Warriors stomped their feet and pounded their shields. A smile spread across Zongmao's face as he stroked his sparse beard and glanced smugly at the opposite side.

The Bison Tribe was completely silent. Jijiao's face was ashen as he glared at the somewhat dejected Tiejiao, then turned to his back, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "The second match! We must win! Mangu, you go!"

Round 2: Overwhelming Power

The Bison Tribe, known as "Mangu," silently stepped forward, except for their first warrior. He was taller and more robust than Tiejiao, his muscles bulging as if sculpted from rock. He did not use an axe, but instead carried a heavy Yingmu as thick as a bowl, sharpened at the end and covered with copper. His steps Chenwen, and the ground seemed to tremble slightly with each step.

The White Pig Tribe sent out "Houzong," a warrior second only to Tunyong. He was also known for his strength, wielding a heavy Shichui. He was burly and took a deep breath as he faced Mangu, his eyes filled with solemnity.

Without any probing, the battle reached its climax with a roar! Mangu charged forward like a true bull, his wooden club whistling through the air as it swept across the waist! Houzong gritted his teeth, wielding his Shichui with both hands to meet the attack head-on!

"Bang!!!"

A deafening, heart-stopping thud! The wooden club and the Shichui collided solidly! Houzong felt a violent jolt in his arms, an irresistible force causing his hands to split open and the Shichui to fly out of his grasp! He was thrown back seven or eight steps, collapsing to the ground with a thud, his arms numb and sore, unable to lift them for a moment!

Mangu paused only slightly before swinging his wooden club, ready to strike! Houzong's face turned pale; he was clearly unable to dodge in time.

"Stop! We surrender!" Zongmao shouted urgently, afraid that Mangu would lose control.

The wooden stick stopped about an inch above Houzong's head, the force of the wind it generated making his scalp tingle. Mangu the stick and silently walked back to his own camp, as if he had only done a trivial matter.

In the second round, the Bison Tribe, with an absolute advantage, swiftly won back a point! The Bison warriors cheered wildly, and Jijiao's expression softened considerably. The White Pig Tribe, on the other hand, suffered a blow to their morale; Houzong was helped up by his companions, his face filled with shame.

Third round: Endurance and willpower

The decisive round was incredibly tense. The Bison Tribe sent out "Benniu," known for his endurance and Jianren character. He wielded a long spear, his steps were solid, and his eyes were calm.

The White Pig Tribe sent out their star warrior, the chief's son and their number one hero, "Tunyong"! Tunyong is a well-rounded individual, possessing excellent strength, speed, and skill. He wields an extended and heavier Shimao, the tip of which gleams with a cold light. He is the White Pig Tribe's greatest hope for victory.

"Start!"

The two attacked almost simultaneously! Tunyong was faster, his spear like a venomous dragon emerging from its lair, swiftly thrusting at the face of the charging Benniu! The Benniu neither dodged nor evaded, lowering its stance and swaying its horse, its spear precisely deflecting Tunyong's thrust. Sparks flew, and both men took a step back.

The real contest had just begun. The Tunyong launched a fierce attack, thrusting, parrying, sweeping, and smashing in rapid succession, attempting to overwhelm the Benniu Warrior with speed. The Benniu, on the other hand, fought steadily, focusing on defense. Its spear moved with impenetrable force, deflecting the Tunyong's ferocious attacks time and again, while also seeking opportunities to counterattack. The spear tip, like a venomous snake's tongue, was always aimed at the Tunyong's vulnerable spots.

The clanging and clattering sounds were as dense as raindrops as the two leaped and twirled across the open ground, their spears flashing. Dust was kicked up by their footsteps, blurring their figures. Thirty rounds passed, fifty rounds passed... Both were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, but neither showed any obvious weakness.

Unable to break through the enemy's defenses, the Tunyong grew impatient. He seized an opportunity, deliberately feigning an opening to lure the Benniu into thrusting its spear straight at him. He then prepared to dodge to the side, simultaneously sweeping the Benniu's lower body with the end of his spear. He had mastered this move and had used it to defeat many opponents.

However, the Benniu's resilience far exceeded his expectations. Faced with the feint, the Benniu's spear suddenly changed direction midway, not thrusting straight, but a fierce sweeping motion! He had already noticed the subtle change in the Tunyong's footwork and decided to use it against him!

"Crack!" The spear tip of the Tunyong missed, but the shaft of the Benniu's spear struck the shaft of the swoon's hastily retreating spear with a solid blow! The immense force made the Tunyong's arm go numb, leaving his center wide open! How could the Benniu let go of this fleeting opportunity? It stepped forward and kicked the Tunyong in the stomach!

"Ugh!" Tunyong groaned, falling backward as his spear slipped from his hand. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the tip of Benniu's spear was already firmly pointed at his chest.

In the third round, the Bison Tribe won again!

"We won! We won!" The Bison Tribe erupted in a thunderous cheer. Jijiao laughed heartily, slapping the shoulder of the Mangu beside him.

On the White Pig Tribe's side, a chorus of dejected sighs filled the air. The smile on the Binmao had vanished, replaced by deep regret and resentment. He looked at his son, Tunyong, who had been helped up, his face pale, then at the jubilant Bison Tribe opposite him, his heart filled with mixed emotions. So close... They won the first round, the second round was too lopsided, and the third round... sigh!

But he was, after all, the leader. He took a deep breath, suppressed his frustration, stepped forward, and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Jijiao, saying, "Jijiao Leader, best of three, your Bison Tribe has won! As agreed, for the next two years, within the alliance, the Bison Tribe will be considered the 'elder brother'! My White Pig Tribe accepts this!"

Jijiao, smug and knowing when to stop, laughed loudly, "Good! Chief Binmao is generous! Since we are brother tribes, we will naturally share blessings and hardships! Come, let's have a feast here today to celebrate the formation of our alliance!"

Although the two warriors had been on the verge of battle, the atmosphere gradually eased now that the outcome was decided and their leader had set the tone. Soon, a campfire was lit, and both sides took out their dried meat and goat's milk, sat together, and ate heartily, laughing and talking loudly. The outcome of the earlier contest seemed to have blended into the roasting meat. However, the thought of "competing again in two years" had taken root in Binmao's heart like a weed.

At the end of the meal, both parties agreed to meet again some time later at a small market jointly participated in by nearby tribes to discuss the details of the alliance's operation and trade.

A potential conflict ended with three fierce battles and a somewhat awkward dinner. A new tribal alliance, led by the Bison Tribe, was hastily but inevitably born at this time.