Finest Servant

Chapter 551

Chapter 551 The DuelAs night fell, the sky turned into a massive curtain of darkness, so opaque that one could hardly see their hand in front of their face. The vast plains were shrouded in gloom.

The tranquil night was shattered by the hurried and crisp sound of hooves. In the hazy distance, dozens of dark figures rapidly approached, their warhorses slicing through the night like arrows, a rush of unbridled energy in their wake. Only when they drew closer did it become evident that these were three to four dozen bedraggled and worn Turkic people. Dust-covered and anxiety-ridden faces, some even punctuated with arrow wounds, their fresh blood streaming freely. Despite this, they spared no time to bind their injuries, spurring their horses at a galloping pace, frequently casting nervous glances behind them.

From far behind, neither human figures nor the sounds of hooves could be heard. The Great Hua pursuers had somehow lost their trail.

"The plains will always belong to us Turks!" Overwhelmed with emotion, the riders broke into excited shouts, their faces radiant with elation.

After a long sprint covering at least twelve to fifteen miles, the Turkic horses were heavily panting, and their riders, gripped by fear, gasped for air like weary oxen.

They took a brief respite, during which the leader of the Turkic group tried to say something to his companions. Strangely, his usually resounding voice had become hoarse. He attempted to speak in the Turkic language, but what came out were indecipherable grunts.

"I can't speak!" The leading Turk's face turned pale, and his eyes filled with boundless terror. Despite summoning all his strength to shout, all that escaped were hoarse grunts; he could not articulate a single word. What scared him even more was that his companions—each and every one of the three to four dozen who had escaped with him—were also visibly distressed, unable to speak a word.

Among them, a man with a twisted beard and a hat pulled low over his eyes strained his mouth wide open, attempting in vain to say something. For a long time, his efforts proved fruitless. The gathered Turks listened to his furious howls, and sorrow overcame them. For a moment, the plains were filled with continuous, echoing wails.

The leader of the Turks was the most composed among them. Reflecting on their recent capture, he recalled that aside from a few pieces of dried meat gifted by the Great Hua people around noon that day, they had been starved. They had devoured the meat, transforming it into a feast in their stomachs. Now it occurred to him: the deceitful Great Hua must have tampered with the meat, rendering him and his companions unable to speak.

In the midst of their anguished cries, any joy from their escape evaporated. The faces of all the Turks were filled with bitterness and fear. The treachery and cunning of the Great Hua people made them terrified, and their only thought now was to break free from the clutches of Great Hua and return to the embrace of the god of the plains.

In their profound despair and fear, the fleeing Turks did not even bother to take count of their numbers. Gritting their teeth in silence, they spurred their horses into a frenzied gallop, as if trying to leave the Great Hua demons far behind.

The Turkic man, his face largely obscured by a bristling beard, blended in with the crowd of nomads. Gritting his teeth, his expression was one of bitter resentment. However, the darkness of the night concealed his features, making it impossible for anyone to discern his face clearly.

The crowd moved in gloomy silence, the distance they had traveled uncertain. Suddenly, the rapid beating of hooves echoed, punctuated by the clashing sounds of swords and quivers. From a distance, hundreds of Turkic cavalrymen could be seen charging forward, torches held high.

"Ah—Ah—" Upon seeing the robust Turkic cavalry, the nomads who had escaped were instantly moved to tears. They raised their arms and cheered fervently. The troop of Turkic cavalrymen accelerated their pace, charging directly toward them.

As the two sides drew near, the faces of the Turkic cavalry became clearly visible. Leading them was a burly man with a prominent nose, his visage truly imposing. Catching sight of the nomadic leader who had escaped, he exclaimed in surprise, "Dulhanza, is that you?"

Dulhanza roared in assent, uttering a few chaotic shouts. The cavalry leader looked puzzled; he didn't realize that Dulhanza had lost the ability to speak. He watched Dulhanza's strange behavior for a moment, confused about its meaning.

The escaped Turkic nomads, anxious, began to shout in unison. Finally, understanding dawned on the cavalry leader's face. "You've all lost the ability to speak?" His expression changed dramatically.

All of the forty or so Turkic men nodded, their faces etched with grief and indignation.

The torchlight brightened the grasslands considerably. The bearded man, who had been the most vocal earlier, discreetly lowered his head to avoid detection. Though he didn't understand the Turkic language, he could guess what these nomads were saying. Sneaking a hand inside his garment, he chuckled quietly to himself. ‘Not being able to speak is the least of your worries. If I wish it, I can render you impotent for life—that would be an easy feat.’

All forty men have lost the ability to speak? The cavalry leader, shocked, glanced at Dulhanza's anxious eyes and decided not to probe further. He quickly signaled his men, and the cavalry turned their horses around, escorting the escaped Turkic nomads back to their camp.

After traveling some twenty to thirty miles, they came upon a vast clearing. Two to three thousand Turkic men had gathered there, the air buzzing with chatter. Drenched in sweat and looking fierce yet weary, their strong Turkic horses shimmered with droplets of perspiration under the torchlight, a dazzling sight.

It was evident that the Turkic men had just arrived; saddles were not yet removed, and stables were still under construction. Their three thousand horses wandered around, tails swishing, creating a chaotic scene.

Gao Qiu surveyed the camp and nodded in approval. "Old Hu really has some skills; the Turkic people did indeed camp at dusk."

As the Turkic cavalrymen, busy preparing fodder for their horses, saw the ragged, pale faces of the forty or so escaped compatriots shuffle into the camp, snickers began to break out. The Turkic people, by nature fierce and aggressive, revered only the strong. They would willingly step over the bodies of their own to advance, a testament to their wolfish qualities. For these kinfolk who had been captured by the people of Great Hua and then escaped, contempt was written all over their faces.

Bathed in the scrutinizing gazes of the Turkic people, Gao Qiu, disguised as a Western merchant, hastily pulled his hat lower, his head nearly touching his feet, to avoid being recognized. His self-abasement earned him even more contempt and derision from the Turks, but it also spared him any suspicion. No one could have imagined that someone from the Great Hua would have the audacity to infiltrate a Turkic camp alone.

"Stay here and don't wander off!" bellowed the cavalry leader, leading the agitated Dulhanza hurriedly into a newly erected tent.

Gao Qiu's eyes darted around as he covertly surveyed his surroundings. The three thousand Turkic horsemen were covered in dust and sand, their faces weary from their exhausting day-long journey. Most sat on the ground, tearing at strips of dried meat, sipping water they had just fetched. Hundreds more were busy setting up stables, preparing to replenish their horses' feed and water.

The camp had only two hastily-constructed felt tents. Groups of Turks sat resting on the grass, apparently pausing only briefly before continuing on their journey.

Just as Gao Qiu was losing himself in observation, a piercing, mocking laughter reached his ears: "Make way, you timid captives!"

Unable to understand the Turkic language, Gao Qiu instinctively lifted his head to find two Turkic horsemen pushing their way through the crowd, carrying a large bucket of fresh water from a nearby lake. They laughed and shoved Gao Qiu and the other Turkic men aside, making their way towards the stables.

The escaped captives, already on edge from numerous setbacks, couldn't contain their anger at the mockery from their kin. A few men stepped forward, fists flying, igniting an uproar. Those who had been resting leaped up and circled the brawlers, plunging the camp into chaos.

Seizing the opportunity, Gao Qiu slipped through the crowd under the cover of darkness, making his way to the area where the horses were concentrated. Fresh green grass lay in a long line, large, wide troughs filled with water spaced every few steps. After a day of hard riding, the horses, their manes glistening with sweat, were peacefully eating and drinking.

Seeing that everyone's attention was focused on the melee, Gao Qiu reached into his garment and took out various packets of powder. Holding his breath, he tiptoed up to the water troughs and sprinkled the powder silently into the water.

"What's all this commotion?" Three figures emerged from one of the newly erected tents. Besides Dulhanza and the previous cavalry leader, the man at the forefront was a hulking individual, in his early thirties. The moment he glared with his large, bell-like eyes, the noise in the camp died down.

It seemed that this burly man was the commander of the Turkic cavalry. He snarled, "All Turkic warriors, assemble now! The Great Hua cavalry is right before us. It's time to serve our Khan!"

"Soranki, isn't this too risky?" another man interjected. "According to Dulhanza, the Great Hua soldiers who've penetrated the grasslands number at least five thousand, and they're all elite troops. Their leader is notoriously cunning and deceitful. Aren't we falling into their trap by going like this?"

The one who spoke was the cavalry leader who had previously rescued Dulhanza. His brow was slightly furrowed, his demeanor cautious.

"Are you afraid?" Soranki scoffed with disdain. "Do you think my three thousand elite riders can't handle a mere five thousand people from Great Hua? If you're afraid, take your Ha'er Helin tribe and go back first. We Ejina will not retreat."

The other cavalry leader retorted angrily, "You dare to underestimate us? My valiant Ha'er Helin tribe never retreats."

Soranki nodded approvingly. "Good, the Khan needs warriors like you. Now, relay my orders to thoroughly interrogate the thirty-five people that Dulhanza brought back. These Great Hua people are cunning and deceitful. I don't believe they'd let their captives escape so easily. There must be a trick."

As the two conversed, Gao Qiu could only hear their chattering but understood not a word. Having sprinkled medicinal herbs in all the horse troughs and waited the time it takes to steep a cup of tea, the horses were mostly replenished. Gao Qiu couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself.

The Turkic people began to gather around the camp, and the over thirty escaped barbarians were individually summoned for questioning.

"One is missing!" Soranki suddenly roared after counting several times. "That man must be a spy.

"Watch my gun!" Lin Wanrong roared as he turned his head. This time, Soranki, who had been fooled repeatedly, wasn't scared. He didn't dodge, and his expression grew even more ferocious. With a whip of the reins, his Turkic steed let out a feeble neigh before collapsing forward, sending Soranki flying like a straight stone.

There was a loud "bang," then Soranki crashed heavily onto the ground, a gaping wound on his forehead. His eyes were wide open, refusing to close even in death.

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