Early the next morning, as soon as the sun was shining across the horizon, Alain and Glock had bypassed most of their camp and came to the border of yesterday's battle, hiding in the canopy of a leafy banyan tree. The smell of unwashed blood wafted in the air www.biquge.info the pen "Fun" pavilion, which was much lighter than a few days ago, which seemed to mean that the battle in recent days was not as fierce as before.

Along the way, too, the Saatchi coalition has been advancing to the south flank, encountering little to no stubborn counterattack.

While Alain was rejoicing at his victory, he couldn't help but feel a little worried. How could the Elna people, who have a history of thousands of years, become so weak? If all this is an illusion, they may be plotting a trap to fight back. 'Father' thinks that war is not good for him, and perhaps he sees this in the way -

While he was thinking wildly, there were loud but slightly chaotic orders and shouts from behind him—the soldiers of the First Army had been prepared. Alain hurriedly lowered his body, held his breath, and hid his whole body between the branches and leaves as much as possible. He glanced at Glock beside him, and saw only a dense pile of leaves—the boy was clearly doing a better job than he was.

The enemy did not let the First Army come and go freely. They scattered among the trees, attacking from a distance with bows and arrows under the cover of their branches. The scattered blows were clearly not enough to make the Thatchi flinch, and they shouted in unison, raising their tomahawks to protect their chests, abdomen, and faces, and galloped forward in unison. The people of Erna fought and retreated, showing no intention of holding on, and in just a few minutes, the battle line advanced hundreds of meters to the south.

"Shall we follow, Arango?" The young man on the side asked in a low voice. It was a tumult below, and their whispered conversation was not yet audible.

"Nope." He shook his head, "It's useless to follow those guys around, and if you don't get it, you'll be treated as an enemy." The Elna are good at guerrillas and raids, so we'll stay here and find a way to intercept the opposing skirmishers and then kill them. ”

The surroundings gradually quieted down, and the opportunity soon came. He saw a team of five people pass by about ten meters to the right of the tree where they were lurking, completely oblivious to their presence.

So he made a careful gesture to Glock, pulled out the throwing axe from his waist, hung down from the thick branch, and threw the axe at the end of the group with a strong swing of his arm.

The axe sliced through the back of the Elna man's neck with precision, and he stumbled before slowly falling to his knees. The gushing blood quickly robbed him of consciousness, and he was afraid that until he was dying, he still did not know who had killed him.

In the next instant, Glock also threw out the weapon in his hand. The axe slashed deep into the other man's right shoulder blade, and while it wasn't fatal, the opponent's right arm probably wouldn't be of any use in this encounter in terms of position and strength.

Alain jumped from the tree, rolled on the ground, and quickly got up. The remaining three Elna had come to their senses and were raising their weapons. He drew two short curved knives and rushed at the other without stopping for a second.

One of them quickly drew his bow and fired an arrow at him. Alain focused all his attention, and suddenly changed direction before the other man released the bowstring. The arrow whizzed past his ear, causing his heart to beat a little faster, but his mind was more awake and excited.

This is the battlefield, this is the stage that belongs to him, the young man thought.

The other two drew their swords and scimitars, and approached him from left to right. Alain picked up his pace, passed between the two and then struck the ball of his feet and leaped towards his rival's right back. Before they could turn around, he kicked the Elna closer to him backwards, just into the arms of the other, who had to spread his hands to avoid injuring his companion with a weapon in his hand.

This is the best opportunity. Alan and his body pounced, taking advantage of the other party's loss of gravity, the two sharp blades in his hands cut into the throats of the two without hesitation. Before they died, they tried to stab him with the blade in their hands, but they were too weak and he easily dodged them.

The man who shot Alain tried to retreat, but Glock didn't give him the chance. The boy hurried to catch up with his opponent, slashed his bow arm in two with an axe, and struck him in the abdomen with a punch. This caused him to bow down in pain and fall to the ground with his hands on his stomach, losing the strength to resist.

At the same time, it didn't take much effort for Alain to subdue the enemy who had been struck by the axe in his right shoulder. The battle started in just one minute and ended with a resounding victory for the two.

"We won! Brother Alain, you're amazing! The boy carried the Erna warrior he had struck down, his face full of excitement, as if he was still a little unsatisfied. Compared to the Saatchis, the strength of the Elna is generally weaker, so the underage Glock is enough to suppress a not-so-strong Elna warrior, "But what is this man going to do?" If you kill it...... Still doesn't feel good? ”

"Bring it back to the camp first. If the Erna people were up to something, the two men might know. Alain pondered for a moment, convincing himself with this reason.

He cut off the right ears of the three dead men as proof of his success, took two prisoners, and returned to the nearest camp. The fighting was not over that day, and very few people remained in the camp. Alain called out to a somewhat listless fighter leaning against the camp's fence and asked if he had anyone in charge of receiving the prisoners.

"Well......" the warrior glanced at him, not suspecting Alain's identity, "Let's go to the arena, there might be a shortage of people over there—those Elnas have been getting more and more like shrunken turtles these days." ”

"Arena." Alain looked at the warrior, "Where is that thing?" ”

"I look like you're a newcomer, but I didn't expect it to be." The warrior waved his hand and yawned, "From here, it's about ten miles to the northeast." He fumbled around for a moment, then threw Alain a blackened piece of wood with strange patterns painted on it, "By the way, take this thing, and it will be more strictly controlled over there, so as not to be caught as a spy." ”

Alain took it, thanked the warrior, and turned away with the captive.

After walking some distance, he looked around at no one and lowered his voice, "I think, I know where Father has gone." ”

The boy blinked, as if he understood what he was referring to, and looked a little incredulous.

"He's going to the arena." Alain continued, using the definite word, "I've heard that it was a grand event organized by several large clans. Captives and willing warriors, armed with worn but deadly weapons, fought each other in a limited area, and the eventual winner could make a claim to the host clan's chief. He swallowed, his voice a little dry, "For 'Father', this is the fastest way to talk to the leader of the coalition on an equal footing. ”

"So, as long as you win in the arena, the uncle will be able to convince the leader?" The boy was still a little puzzled, "However, the request may not be granted, right?" What if he doesn't agree? ”

"I don't know." Alain replied, "But Father must have his way—we'll see it by looking at it." ”