Chapter 477: The Great War (III)

"Do my brave warriors know why those enemies riding horses, holding bows and scimitars come?"

With the north wind whistling over the grassland, Temujin's thick voice clearly came into the ears of each Mongol who responded to his call. Although the war on the grassland was different from the war in the Central Plains, there were a few points that were the same, especially morale. Therefore, in the continuous battles with the Tatars and the Meyer-given people, the Mongols gradually learned how to effectively boost morale. Therefore, the two sides did not fight as before, but instilled reasons for fighting in all the soldiers as they were now.

"They brought the hyenas of the Naiman tribe, and wanted to make the descendants of Anbahaikhan lower their noble heads, to occupy the grasslands where we have lived for generations, to cut off our rivers, to defile our blood, to make our descendants give up scimitars and bows, and to milk the horses for those men who only know how to sit and wait for food. The heaven of immortality is above me, the son of Yesuge of the Qiyan tribe, Temujin, with golden blood flowing on them, will lead you to defeat them, cut off their heads, and let their horses not ride, and let their wives and children lose their husbands and fathers... May the heaven of immortality bless his people..."

He roared with all his strength, and all the Mongolians who heard his voice became excited as usual. Even the war horses under him seemed to feel the master's turbulent murderous aura and enthusiasm, and kept stepping on their front hooves.

At this time, Temujin pulled out the scimitar from his waist, held high above his head, mobilized the war horse under his crotch, and ran by before the long military formation. Wherever he passed, all the Mongolians cheered like tsunamis, and the scimitars pointed to the blue sky with the harsh sound of being unsheathed.

"God of immortality bless us..."

"The God of Immortality bless Temujin..."

"Yeah..."

The entire Qiyan army was boiling like hot water, and the deafening howling sound shattered the calm of the Dalan version of Zhusi Grassland.

After the whistling, Temujin returned to his original position and shouted loudly: "The most abundant place of prey will always belong to the most brave and warlike Mongols. My soldiers, use your bravery to obtain it. Don't worry about your wives and children. If you have your kind khan Temujin to take care of it, they will always occupy the most abundant grassland. And the fair Temujin will never steal the warrior's spoils like those greedy guys... Now, hold your scimitar tightly and follow me to get the prey..."

"Yeah..."

At the same time, the military formation on the opposite side also made deafening shouts. At this time, the bloody battle was imminent.

Amid the howling sound, the two khans in front of the two armies returned to their own military formations, and then the military formations of the two armies began to slowly move forward.

Then, the rows of Mongolian cavalry in front urged their war horses and rushed forward in a long line. At this time, the Mongols had formed a unique tactic. They would not rush to the enemy like their ancestors, but instead tried to leave space in front and back. In addition to minimizing accidental damage, they could also form a ladderless attack well. It can be said that the Mongols had already had strong combat power at this time.

Jamukha's army was divided into thirteen rows, one row was one battalion, which also represented the thirteen powerful Mongolian tribes, which were mixed with reinforcements from the Naiman tribe. While receiving reinforcements from the Naiman tribe, they also received a lot of assistance. The number of people and their clothing and equipment were no longer comparable to those of the Qiyan tribe today.

With Jamukha's cold wave of his hand, the first row of Mongolian soldiers finally let go of the reins of the horse and rushed forward like a joyful battle. The Mongolian soldiers on the horse howled wildly, and at the same time, they did not forget to hold the bow and arrow in their hands tightly.

Jamuha stared at the front with a blank expression. After receiving reinforcements and help from the Naiman tribe, and even receiving the promise of the Naiman tribe Tayang Khan to hold back the Krei tribe for him, he already had a great chance of winning, but he was still not sure that he would pick the fruits of victory, because he knew that Anda very well. Temujin, who had been struggling on the brink of life and death since childhood, had a temperament as persevering as a lone wolf on the grassland. When he had strong strength, he would be an extremely terrible opponent. Even if he was seriously injured and dying, he should be wary of him jumping up and biting you.

Moreover, there were also a group of Mongolian heroes like Hesar, Borshu and others gathered around Temujin. Maybe... Give Temujin another winter, even with the help of the Naiman tribe, he would not be able to defeat this eagle? This is why he decided to summon thirteen tribes and could not wait to lead the army to travel a long distance to attack Qiyan tribe this autumn.

However, when he saw the main force of Qiyan's tribe, all the previous worries disappeared completely, because he saw the underage children in Temujin's team, and the number was much less than he expected, and there was no worse situation. The powerful Jin people did not send even a warrior to his servants on the grassland, so... this victory will belong to me...

"A wise Khan, please allow me to give me my sincere congratulations before the war begins. You will become the master of this vast grassland, and the flocks of the Mongolian tribes will be yours."

Jamuhe turned his face and stared at the person who was talking, and a smile slowly appeared on his face, "Dear guest, my warrior has not shot a sharp arrow yet. Isn't it too early to talk about the spoils?"

The person who spoke was a strong tall man, about forty years old, wearing a gold-edged leather hat. Although he had walked a long way, the leather robe on his body was already snow-white like the snow of winter. His face was rosy and his eyes were firm. He did not have the fatigue he should have due to the long journey. His name was Wuledalhei, the head of the Qianhu of the Naiman tribe, Tayanghan's uncle, and the family behind him was also the most noble of the eight tribes of the Naiman tribe.

Hearing Jamukha's answer, the Naiman nobleman, who had a pair of light blue eyes, herald his noble bloodline, laughed.

"Great Xuerhan, are you testing Wuledarhei's eyes? My eyes were not blinded by the cold wind. Although your enemy is as eager for victory as you, his reputation in this grassland seems to exceed his strength. You should see that your enemy is more like a group of dirty beggars than your soldiers."

"When our Naiman tribe soldiers will receive three things from their elders when they are adults, a good knife that can easily cut the throats of wild animals, a longbow that can shoot down the eagle and falcon in the sky, and a strong war horse. Your enemies are holding wooden sticks in their hands, and bones are inlaid on the arrows. Gods testify. Their courage is admirable, but victory will be yours..."

Jamuha also laughed. Yes, these compliments were very pleasant, but in fact, his interactions with the Naiman tribe over the past few days made him not happy. These wolf cubs from the west always raised their heads high and their words were not pleasant. If he had not restrained his subordinates with Uldaerhei, it would be hard to say what would have happened.

But then again, he was able to talk to Wuledarhei, and his generous and demeanor were very appreciated by him. However, the reinforcements from the Naiman tribe were still a month late. Otherwise, when the grass on the grassland was just half yellow in autumn, it would be the best fighter, rather than when winter is coming, which makes him feel a little regretful, because in this way, Temujin would not be able to chase the cold Onon River...

"Yes, this grassland will be mine, Brother Wuledal, you don't need to remind me that Jamuha will not forget those who generously helped him..."

On this killing scene, the two of them chatted and laughed calmly, and they did have a different demeanor than ordinary people.

While the two were chatting and laughing, the shouts of killing in front suddenly became violent. The Mongol soldiers who were flying in front of them first shot a burst of rapid fire, and each of them shot at least three arrows. There seemed to be a mess of arrow rain in the sky, instead of pursuing the greatest damage, they would form neat volleys. This is their immature place. However, the deep reason is that there is no established standing army in the Mongolian tribes now, and no one taught them the knowledge of war. Especially the generals with war qualities are lacking. Without these things, the Mongols still have many shortcomings. Perhaps the one they do not lack the most is good soldiers...

The arrows fell, and countless Mongolian soldiers screamed and fell to the ground, but at this moment, the brilliance and courage of the grassland people were shown. As soon as some of the less injured soldiers landed, they rolled up and jumped up, picked up the scimitar, then reached out and climbed up the saddle of their companions, roaring wildly towards their enemies.

Countless scimitars were raised above their heads. From a distance, two clear long lines blended together in a moment, which further showed the advantages of these grassland nations in riding. There was almost no collision. The two uneven long lines intersected for a moment, and then separated immediately, but the result was equally tragic. Blood finally began to flow on a large scale. Countless warriors were cut off by their opponents at the moment of convergence. Only this confrontation brought a blood mist on the battlefield, and countless corpses remained there forever...
Chapter completed!