Chapter 18 Chapter Seventeen

He was dreaming again.I shuddered in his dream, watching in horror as he wrestled a demon. A huge black man, twice his size, with blood-red eyes and protruding horns, under the ugly head, because the neck is so thick, it looks like it is directly connected to the broad shoulders , It is full of prominent blue veins. The fighting was fierce. D was sweating profusely, his chest was heaving violently, and he was gasping for breath, but his enemy was completely still.I mean, the demon is chasing each other with five dagger-like sharp armors on his giant palm. He has veins all over his body, but his chest doesn't rise and fall, and his broad nose decorated with gold rings doesn't breathe at all.His bare and hard skin was completely lifeless, like a zombie built with boulders.

The previous few swords all missed the position, D saw the opportunity to bully him, and finally stabbed the opponent's thigh with one sword.But the joy in his heart was not over yet, the demon struggled hard and left his grasp.He watched in shock as the other party's bone-deep wound healed in an instant, almost without bleeding a drop. "Be careful!" I yelled at him uncontrollably, completely forgetting that this was his dream.And I am in a dream myself. D looked up in horror, and he saw Fang's mountain-like giant palm pressing down on his head.Then everything went dark around.

I opened my eyes with him.Ahead were faint lights, and a large Turkish camp was stationed on the other side of the river bank. Vlad rubbed his eyes in disbelief.He fell asleep lying on the grass.He habitually touched the sword hanging by his waist, and then froze for a moment, because his weapon had a crescent moon arc, it was a Turkish scimitar. He is no longer wearing the heavy metal plate armor he has been wearing these days, but is replaced by light chain mail in the Turkish style.Even the few people ambushing around him were dressed in the same way. The summer night breeze tickled his face, and the crickets in the grass were chirping happily.The palms of Vlad's tightly clenched hands were drenched with sweat. He exhaled lightly and looked at the Turkish military camp not far away.They've been waiting here for a long, long time.Now is the time to go.

The wind picked up.He whistled softly and gestured to his soldiers. It is a moonless night.He brought only a small group of troops, but all of them were Wallachia warriors whom he had appointed. They put on the costumes of the Turks, and marched through the forest and across the shallow river to the enemy's camp. His large army was in ambush not far behind.It's just that they add up to a total of only 30,000 people, but the number of enemies is three times more than theirs. Just a few months ago, he had fulfilled his original promise.The winter of this year was bitterly cold. With the help of the frozen water of the Danube, he successfully crossed into Bulgaria and conquered all the land from Serbia to the Black Sea.Although Stephen only lent him a thousand cavalry, and the Hungarian King Magash, who had received the Pope's 40,000 gold coins for military expenses, was still dilly-dallying.

But Vlad is not alone.God is on his side.He has been winning battles.In Jurju, he pretended to be a Turk and successfully infiltrated into the enemy's barracks with his fluent Turkish since he was a child, annihilating the enemy's entire army.The leader of the opponent, the noble Hamzebey, was still poking at the tallest picket for no apparent reason. Now, he wants to copy it as it is, and do it again. But this time, his target was the Turkish Sultan Muhammad.He wants to kill him with his own hands and end this war. The wind is getting stronger, the clouds are rolling overhead, and a storm is coming.

The enemy's army camp was close at hand, and Vlad easily crossed the trench dug by the enemy. He squatted in front of him, and silently chopped down two sentries with his knife.His valiant followers rushed in after him.They filled the trench with logs and used wind and darkness as cover. There was a fire in the barracks.Shouts of killing and clashes of weapons rang out.It must have been his elite men who found the enemy's granaries.The wind is hunting.Within a few minutes, flames soared into the sky, illuminating half of the dark cloud-rolled night sky.Hiding in the shadows, he watched as his followers lit torches, and then a few hundred-step archers wrapped their arrow tips with oil-soaked cotton cloth, and set their camp on fire with one arrow.

The Turkish soldiers were in a deadly panic.They could see nothing because the enemy was wearing the same chain mail as they were.Vlad saw a few of his own soldiers mingling with the enemy army shouting Turkish, inducing the enemy to run in the opposite direction needlessly.The burning barracks turned into a mess of porridge. The plan went flawlessly, and Vlad gripped his weapon tightly, searching anxiously outside each camp. His target is Muhammad.He has to find him. There was commotion in all the tents.The Turkish soldiers got up rubbing their sleepy eyes, and went into battle one after another with terrified expressions.They don't know where their enemies are.They also don't know how many enemies there are.

The wind blew, and the flames jumped higher and higher.Several camps have been completely burned down, and many people have been killed or injured whether it is on their own side or the enemy's side.The crazy Turkish Janissaries killed their own people, but he still didn't see Muhammad. One of them, dressed in the clothes of a general of the Praetorian Guard, stands out.His knife skills are fast and ruthless, and he almost kills everyone who comes close to him, no matter whether the opponent is his enemy or not. The light of the fire hit the man's face.Vlad held his breath. He hadn't seen his brother for many years.In his impression, Radu was still a weak little boy.

He only knew to pester Muhammad, who was about the same age as him, and tried every means to please him, and would only cry when he lost the competition. He didn't know that the other party had grown up.He was almost as tall as himself, and his shoulders had broadened.There is no longer a trace of weakness on his handsome face, only indifference and cruelty. Vlad took a deep breath.He gripped his weapon tightly. Muhammad killed his own brother to keep the throne.He remembered the conversation he had with Stephen many years ago.Now that he is Grand Duke of Wallachia, will he do the same thing as Muhammad?

The cold wind passed by his ears, cutting his skin with a knife.No, he doesn't have time to think about that right now.He narrowed his eyes, moved away from Radu with difficulty, and turned to the huge tent behind him. Now that Radu is here, another one will be. Mehmed, the Sultan of Turkey, must have been hiding in this tent. Vlad made a circle, bypassing Radu, who was unable to save his own soldiers even though he was brutally slaughtering them.His target is Muhammad.Only Muhammad.Kill him to end the whole war.Kill him and the warriors of Wallachia can go home. Vlad quietly approached the tent.He saw a dark figure inside the tent.

There was chaos in the camp.Everywhere is fighting, everywhere is burning.Nobody was in any camp at the moment except him.Because he knew his Praetorians would keep him safe.Radu will keep him safe. Vlad narrowed his eyes.The moment he pulled out the scimitar, his heart skipped a beat.Because under the reflection of the flames, he saw the black figure in the tent who was only an arm away from him, and two unnatural sharp corners appeared on his thick turban.He didn't know what it was. But he had no time to think. He yelled, and stabbed the black figure fiercely through the tent. He seemed to have stabbed something hard, not like a human body. He was startled, and when he looked again, the entire solid tent collapsed!The moment he escaped, he saw that there was nothing in front of him. The black shadow he had just slashed disappeared out of thin air.