Chapter 3 third quarter
Thirty heads were neatly arranged on the ground.Flies are flying around the skull fracture.The hair of each head is tied with ropes of different colors and patterns, representing different clans in the Liha Basin.Each clan sent a male to cut off the enemy's head with his own hands.After the whole ceremony is over, they will each take their head back to the tent of their clan, skin it, hollow it out, wash it, and soak it in medicine. About a month later, the medicine wine will soak the skull to the size of a fist, and the male will hang it up. On the belly or on the neck, as a symbol of a grown warrior.
Ma Guanggan and his son were bound by leather ropes and fell face down on the ground.They dare not look at the heads of their companions.
It was twenty years ago that Ma Guanggan used a knife last time.He was never used to violence.It doesn't matter whether you are the perpetrator, the victim, or a bystander.
He knew what was going on.The younger generation of the Luomeng tribe has become restless since the discovery of the Ya salt mine; they are also dissatisfied with the old patriarch Wavonla for being too close to the "flatlanders".
——The history of our ancestors tells us that the "flatlanders" are all cunning and evil; although the salt brought by the "flatlanders" cured our swellings, it was only to defraud our livestock, crops, minerals, and leather ...now we have our own salt, and power over the "flat earthlings"...
Ma Guangqian now has only three hopes: first, he and his son can die happily; second, he hopes that the ten children in his family will not want revenge; third, he hopes to smoke a cigarette before he dies.
The entire mountain forest seemed to be a living creature.Sitting on a healthy horse, Lian Shou turned his head occasionally and saw that the mountain road he had walked seemed to be closed again.He has a feeling of being swallowed up. He looked at the alien girl leading the horse in front.He couldn't see her expression, but heard her breathing nervously and excitedly. "It's almost here," said the girl. "We... are all waiting for you." There was a mixture of fear and ecstasy in that voice. "Do you know me?" Lian Shou asked puzzled.The girl just turned her head and smiled, without answering. "What's your name?" "Stinging vines." Scythe looked at her long brown hair shaking, the small hand holding the rein, the strong and curvaceous buttocks and legs—his penis erected against the horse's back. After turning a few towering limestones, a foreign object was reflected in the pupils of Scythe: a naked headless corpse hanging upside down on a dead tree. The sickle's right arm shook and swung away the cloth covering the tip of the iron spear.With his left hand, as if he was grabbing a little pigeon, he lifted the young girl on the back of the horse and sat in front of him. The sickle lifted the spear upside down, held the rein, and swung his legs violently.The two of them galloped under the upside-down corpse.
Ma Guangqian's first wish came true. Because standing in front of them is the new patriarch Nongchai.He was wearing the colorful bird feather robe of the priests of the Ramon tribe.Ma Guangqian had only seen Wavonla wearing it once before.He didn't want to watch that ceremony again... Nongchai pursed her thin lips, with a very solemn expression, her eyes turned back and forth on the two of them.His gaze finally settled on Maggie.A palm reached into the hem of his clothes and stroked back and forth—Maggie had never felt so terrified, as if his heart was about to be dug out by that huge palm in the next moment. Nongchai stretched out his hand and grabbed Maggie's skirt. "No——" Ma Guanggan was beside him, desperately biting Ma Ji's yellow cloth.After Ma Ji was dragged away by Nongchai, the "power of ten lions", a small piece of yellow cloth remained between Ma Guanggan's teeth. "Fucking bastard!" Maggie struggled frantically on the ground, his voice echoing in the basin: "Stinky son of a bitch! Fuck your grandma's shit, eighteen generations of ancestors! Fuck your daughter's rotten pussy! It was cut with a knife—” A sharp cracking sound interrupted everything. Maggie's arms, tied behind his back, were folded over his head at an odd angle.Every breath is a heart-pounding pain. He could not imagine a greater pain in the world than this.Yes, he felt it the next moment.Two groups of violent flames burned straight from the soles of the feet to the bone marrow.The nerves of the whole body stiffen immediately, and the salivary glands, bladder, anus, and pores are all out of control. Magee tried to open his eyelids and searched for his legs. What he saw were two snow-white leg bones hung with countless willow-like muscles. Seeing his own bones naked in front of his own eyes, the great shock temporarily overwhelmed the pain.Stinky sweat flowed down his waist, trembling lips were numb, his tongue was swollen and pale, and stomach acid welled up in his throat. Nongchai held the blood-stained curved dagger and rode on Maji's waist, pressing him down on the ground. Maggie leaned against the grass on the left side, squinting at his father. ——Father... think of... a way... let me... have a... a good death... Ma Guangqian couldn't bear to watch it any longer, and fell to the ground with his eyes closed and wept bitterly. The Romance warriors surrounding them were very quiet.What they saw was not bloody torture, but a sacred and solemn sacrifice.A few of them played tambourines, the rhythm was neither slow nor urgent, and their mouths were humming along with the rhythm: "Pari Nan...Pari Nan..." Maggie's yellow cloth was cut and torn, exposing his strong and smooth back muscles. "Guaroci, Sampagua Mengbuluociha..." Nongchai muttered while cutting Maji's back. "Luo Riwa, Ladusang... Mosukawa!" Nongchai threw away the dagger, stretched his palms to the center of Maggie's back and pulled it—— The red and white muscles twisted at various angles trembled in the sun, and the muscle lines were covered with needle-like blood beads; the white spine was looming, like a wreck of a wreck half submerged in a sea of blood... The two large pieces of skin that have been stripped of flesh and bone are spread out horizontally, like a pair of wings that have been dried up by the scorching sun; the leg meat that has been cut into strips scattered under the waist looks like the feathers of a sparrow's tail.Maggie's limp body on the ground is like a big strange bird flying to the world of death. "Yeah—kill me—oh—I want to die—please—" Maggie finally regained consciousness, struggling violently like a drowning cockroach. "Please-die-oh-oh-die-fuck-die-die-I-die-" Nong guessed from the side watching coldly. Ma Guanggan rolled over and fell to the ground, his fingers behind his back were tied tightly to the grass and dirt.There was chaos in his mind. Nongchai held the handle of the long machete at his waist.He was ready to cut Maggie's head off at any moment.But he wanted to wait a little longer.He wanted the Luomeng people to remember the screams.It was his first ritual as patriarch and the cornerstone of his authority. The drumbeat is getting faster.More than a hundred Roman warriors raised their weapons high and shouted frantically.They are the sons of the mountain.They only respect and worship the strong.The screams of the enemy are evidence of strength. Magee couldn't think anymore.There was only one thought he still clung to—death.He longs to die. Endless physical pain, more despair than despair. A howling sound of breaking wind came from the mountain in the east, cutting through the cheers of the soldiers and the screams of the sacrifices. Nongchai's huge body flipped away. When he took his foot on the grass, he realized that Maggie had stopped all struggling and wriggling. A long iron spear pierced Maggie's heart, nailing the bird-like dead body to the ground. When the sickle and the thorns slowly rode into the center of the Liha Basin, Nongchai had already taken off the priest's robes sewn with colorful bird feathers, revealing a muscular body like steel, and pulled out the long machete at his waist, Stepping on Gao Jun's mount, he assumed a posture of charging and slashing. The Romon warriors gathered behind Nongchai.Some also rode on horseback, carrying scimitars, battle axes, pointed spears, bows and arrows.Facing this uninvited guest who destroyed the sacrificial ceremony, their eyes were full of hatred. Many women and children of the clan also gathered outside.It is something that has never happened in the past that the festival was interrupted.Does that mean ominous?Or is it not suitable to be a patriarch? ... Lian Shou faced the battle formation of the Luomeng tribe with his bare hands, without any fear on his face.But he was surprised in his heart: the man with a handsome face at the front of the enemy line was actually much taller and stronger than himself. Nongchai pointed his halberd at the thorny vine sitting in front of the sickle, and asked in local language.His eyes were bloodshot.Ciwan actually sits intimately on the same horse as the "flatlander".The patriarch has the right to marry an adult woman from any other clan, and Nongchai is eagerly waiting for Jaman to turn fifteen and perform the bar mitzvah. Ciner jumped up nimbly from the horse's back, and crawled behind the scythe like a cat, wrapping his legs around his shoulders and neck.She reached out to remove the scythe's hood and brushed the hair from his forehead. The black birthmark was displayed in front of everyone of the Luomeng tribe. "Pari Nan!" Thorny Man shouted. The crowd roared.People's heads were shaking like waves, whispering to each other.Several old women cried out and fell to their knees on the ground, chanting mysterious old sayings loudly, bowing their heads to the sickle, crying.Those standing in the front row backed away in horror, while those in the back row wanted to look forward, making a mess. Some of the soldiers behind Nongchai quietly put away their weapons, while others seemed extremely nervous. The spear that nailed Maji's body was inserted between Nongchai and the scythe.The mount on the sickle head was still moving forward slowly, but Nongchai did not stop it.His arm holding the scimitar trembled with rage. Lian Shou did not look at Ma Guanggan who was lying on the side.At this moment, he just wanted to take this kind old man away.He dared not let the Luomeng people know that he and Ma Guanggan were friends. Sickles looked calmly at the huge man in front of him. Nongchai held up the scimitar. "Sang Mowa!" He pointed the scimitar blade at the sickle, and quickly slid the other palm across his neck. "Guaci Idopari Nansangka Wow!" Lian Shou couldn't understand what he said, but he understood what he meant: He wants to cut off my head in front of everyone! Lian Shou understood because he saw only one desire in Nong Chai's eyes.This desire was familiar to him.He also indulged this desire many times in the floating city. The palm of the sickle rests on the upside-down spear shaft. Nongchai stuck out his tongue and licked his upper lip.The drums sounded again behind him.Different from the ceremony just now, the rhythm of the drum music at this moment is fast, which makes the heart beat. Scythe stretched his left hand to the side of his neck, and patted Ciwan's thigh.The thorns climbed off him gently and jumped to the side of the horse.She looked up at the scythe with confused eyes.Her lower body still had the residual warmth from the back of his neck.He waved her away. Nongchai breathes in harmony with the drumbeat, shrugging his shoulders up and down in response to the beat.He danced the primitive battle dance on the saddle, and his movements were full of rough beauty. ——This is the highest respect paid by the Romon warriors before killing a powerful enemy. The bird feathers on the chieftain's crown swayed like leaves in the wind.The animal tooth amulets on their necks collided with each other. Nong Guai twisted every inch of his upper body with the drum, but his gaze never left the scythe. —is brutal.Devour the flesh and blood of the enemy.The only desire. The iron spear was pulled out from the dirt and dead bodies, and a bloody arrow sprayed on the horse's belly on the scythe. Nong Cai chirped and galloped out, waving the silver-white scimitar obliquely back and forth. The sickle kicked the horse's belly with both legs, and the mount galloped forward in panic. The two riders were less than a foot away—— Nongchai hurriedly reined in the reins, and the love horse suddenly jumped up with smoke under its hooves, and the horse and man flipped into the air together. Nongchai took advantage of the leap and chopped off the scimitar from the highest point! In the eyes of the sickle, the man and horse in the air seemed to have grown several times—— After the sound of gold and iron, the two riders passed each other. An iron spear was two feet long, but was thrown ten feet away by that violent blow. After more than ten steps, Nongchai turned Mahler back.He stepped on his stirrups—the only horse in the whole Roman family that wore a saddle—stand up, raised his arms and shouted. The Luomeng people agreed one after another.The drums became more intense and frequent. The sickle also stopped his mount, looking down at the four-foot iron rod in his hand.The incision of the broken part forms a sharp angle obliquely, and the broken part is very smooth. It was the first time for Liantou to meet such an opponent: an enemy who surpassed him in terms of physique, strength, speed, combat skills, riding skills, and even weapons.He couldn't imagine any way he could win. He has always believed in the sickle head of flesh and power, staring at the broken spear in his hand for a long time.His arm holding the spear trembled from the impact. ——Once faced with an enemy that outperforms them, the strong are more likely to collapse than the weak. While the sound of the drum was surging, Nongchai danced the thrilling battle dance on the saddle again, and moved forward slowly.The horse's hooves trampled over Maggie's body, shattering his flesh and bones.The war horse approached the scythe with a trail of blood. In the confrontation just now, Nongchai had tested that the strength, speed and skill of the scythe were not as good as his own, so he showed a confident smile.The next knife will cut off the neck of the sickle head, and nothing in the world can stand in front of the blade of the "power of ten lions". Sickles couldn't concentrate at all.He dare not look directly at Nong Gua.He closed his eyes, and many images quickly intertwined in his brain nerves.All his memories.Wilderness and ancient city.He seemed to see the sea again.Standing on the beach staring down at his own reflection.Burning "slaughterhouse".The taste of Sakura's tongue.Iron nails pierced through his palms.cell.corpse mountain.forest.Darker forests— Sickle was covered in cold sweat. --fear. Yu Boss's eyes are full of vitality. he shouted. The voice was so shrill that it made one's hair stand on end, overwhelming the shouts and drums of the Romon people.There was complete silence in the basin.Nongchai's dance moves are stiff and frozen. Scythe raised his head to the sky, his arms outstretched, just like the tattoo of the cross on his back. Frightened by the rider's howls, the healthy horse galloped wildly. Nongchai held the scimitar and rein tightly and charged forward. The sickle still maintains the posture of raising the head and extending the arms. Nongchai stared at Sickle's head and neck, raised the scimitar—— The two horses crossed again. The mount with the sickle head continued to run forward, but the man was powerless and fell off the horse's back, and fell limply on the grass. Nongchai faced the crowd of his own tribe, hanging the scimitar by his side.He was convinced that the opponent's head had been chopped off with a single blow just now, and his triumphant smile remained unchanged. The Xuantie Broken Spear pierced through his chin and pierced through the Tianling Cap. The thornvine was the only one in the tribe who responded.She screamed and ran to the place where the sickle fell from the horse, struggling to pull his prone body up. Two lines of tears hung on the face covered with sand on the sickle head.The frightened face contorted and twitched.Tears streamed down filthy cheeks and pooled in a black bead on his chin. —blacker than the deepest night. It was only at this time that the panic of the Romancians broke out.The soldiers rushed up to take a closer look at Nongchai's body. One of them stretched out a wooden stick and poked lightly, and Nongchai fell off the saddle.They avoided them as if they were afraid of the germs attached to the dead body. More women and old people knelt down, weeping and praying loudly to the sky. The warriors then surrounded the scythe and thorns.The sharp points of swords and spears and poisoned arrows were pointed at them. Ciman was not afraid, shouted in the local language, took out the rough blue handkerchief of the weaver, wiped the face of Sickle, and parted his hair again, so that the tribe could see his appearance clearly. "Pari Nan!" The gathered Luomeng soldiers exclaimed at the same time. Ciwan nodded vigorously: "Pari Nan!" "Pari Nan!" Frantic fluctuations arose among the warriors.The drums started again.The alien weapons were thrown to the ground one by one.Pairs of strong legs knelt down, and faces painted with various colors of oil paint fell to the ground. The admiration quickly spread outward.Among the strangely dressed worshipers are old people with dry sticks and canes, whose skin is wrinkled like an elephant's; There are women; there are tall, burly, muscular farmers; there are children with bright eyes and missing milk teeth; there are disabled people who are blind or missing limbs; there are patients with a thin skeleton... Everyone bowed down and worshiped the sickle that was still trembling and crying, and there was only one name in their mouths: Pari Nan.
The entire mountain forest seemed to be a living creature.Sitting on a healthy horse, Lian Shou turned his head occasionally and saw that the mountain road he had walked seemed to be closed again.He has a feeling of being swallowed up. He looked at the alien girl leading the horse in front.He couldn't see her expression, but heard her breathing nervously and excitedly. "It's almost here," said the girl. "We... are all waiting for you." There was a mixture of fear and ecstasy in that voice. "Do you know me?" Lian Shou asked puzzled.The girl just turned her head and smiled, without answering. "What's your name?" "Stinging vines." Scythe looked at her long brown hair shaking, the small hand holding the rein, the strong and curvaceous buttocks and legs—his penis erected against the horse's back. After turning a few towering limestones, a foreign object was reflected in the pupils of Scythe: a naked headless corpse hanging upside down on a dead tree. The sickle's right arm shook and swung away the cloth covering the tip of the iron spear.With his left hand, as if he was grabbing a little pigeon, he lifted the young girl on the back of the horse and sat in front of him. The sickle lifted the spear upside down, held the rein, and swung his legs violently.The two of them galloped under the upside-down corpse.
Ma Guangqian's first wish came true. Because standing in front of them is the new patriarch Nongchai.He was wearing the colorful bird feather robe of the priests of the Ramon tribe.Ma Guangqian had only seen Wavonla wearing it once before.He didn't want to watch that ceremony again... Nongchai pursed her thin lips, with a very solemn expression, her eyes turned back and forth on the two of them.His gaze finally settled on Maggie.A palm reached into the hem of his clothes and stroked back and forth—Maggie had never felt so terrified, as if his heart was about to be dug out by that huge palm in the next moment. Nongchai stretched out his hand and grabbed Maggie's skirt. "No——" Ma Guanggan was beside him, desperately biting Ma Ji's yellow cloth.After Ma Ji was dragged away by Nongchai, the "power of ten lions", a small piece of yellow cloth remained between Ma Guanggan's teeth. "Fucking bastard!" Maggie struggled frantically on the ground, his voice echoing in the basin: "Stinky son of a bitch! Fuck your grandma's shit, eighteen generations of ancestors! Fuck your daughter's rotten pussy! It was cut with a knife—” A sharp cracking sound interrupted everything. Maggie's arms, tied behind his back, were folded over his head at an odd angle.Every breath is a heart-pounding pain. He could not imagine a greater pain in the world than this.Yes, he felt it the next moment.Two groups of violent flames burned straight from the soles of the feet to the bone marrow.The nerves of the whole body stiffen immediately, and the salivary glands, bladder, anus, and pores are all out of control. Magee tried to open his eyelids and searched for his legs. What he saw were two snow-white leg bones hung with countless willow-like muscles. Seeing his own bones naked in front of his own eyes, the great shock temporarily overwhelmed the pain.Stinky sweat flowed down his waist, trembling lips were numb, his tongue was swollen and pale, and stomach acid welled up in his throat. Nongchai held the blood-stained curved dagger and rode on Maji's waist, pressing him down on the ground. Maggie leaned against the grass on the left side, squinting at his father. ——Father... think of... a way... let me... have a... a good death... Ma Guangqian couldn't bear to watch it any longer, and fell to the ground with his eyes closed and wept bitterly. The Romance warriors surrounding them were very quiet.What they saw was not bloody torture, but a sacred and solemn sacrifice.A few of them played tambourines, the rhythm was neither slow nor urgent, and their mouths were humming along with the rhythm: "Pari Nan...Pari Nan..." Maggie's yellow cloth was cut and torn, exposing his strong and smooth back muscles. "Guaroci, Sampagua Mengbuluociha..." Nongchai muttered while cutting Maji's back. "Luo Riwa, Ladusang... Mosukawa!" Nongchai threw away the dagger, stretched his palms to the center of Maggie's back and pulled it—— The red and white muscles twisted at various angles trembled in the sun, and the muscle lines were covered with needle-like blood beads; the white spine was looming, like a wreck of a wreck half submerged in a sea of blood... The two large pieces of skin that have been stripped of flesh and bone are spread out horizontally, like a pair of wings that have been dried up by the scorching sun; the leg meat that has been cut into strips scattered under the waist looks like the feathers of a sparrow's tail.Maggie's limp body on the ground is like a big strange bird flying to the world of death. "Yeah—kill me—oh—I want to die—please—" Maggie finally regained consciousness, struggling violently like a drowning cockroach. "Please-die-oh-oh-die-fuck-die-die-I-die-" Nong guessed from the side watching coldly. Ma Guanggan rolled over and fell to the ground, his fingers behind his back were tied tightly to the grass and dirt.There was chaos in his mind. Nongchai held the handle of the long machete at his waist.He was ready to cut Maggie's head off at any moment.But he wanted to wait a little longer.He wanted the Luomeng people to remember the screams.It was his first ritual as patriarch and the cornerstone of his authority. The drumbeat is getting faster.More than a hundred Roman warriors raised their weapons high and shouted frantically.They are the sons of the mountain.They only respect and worship the strong.The screams of the enemy are evidence of strength. Magee couldn't think anymore.There was only one thought he still clung to—death.He longs to die. Endless physical pain, more despair than despair. A howling sound of breaking wind came from the mountain in the east, cutting through the cheers of the soldiers and the screams of the sacrifices. Nongchai's huge body flipped away. When he took his foot on the grass, he realized that Maggie had stopped all struggling and wriggling. A long iron spear pierced Maggie's heart, nailing the bird-like dead body to the ground. When the sickle and the thorns slowly rode into the center of the Liha Basin, Nongchai had already taken off the priest's robes sewn with colorful bird feathers, revealing a muscular body like steel, and pulled out the long machete at his waist, Stepping on Gao Jun's mount, he assumed a posture of charging and slashing. The Romon warriors gathered behind Nongchai.Some also rode on horseback, carrying scimitars, battle axes, pointed spears, bows and arrows.Facing this uninvited guest who destroyed the sacrificial ceremony, their eyes were full of hatred. Many women and children of the clan also gathered outside.It is something that has never happened in the past that the festival was interrupted.Does that mean ominous?Or is it not suitable to be a patriarch? ... Lian Shou faced the battle formation of the Luomeng tribe with his bare hands, without any fear on his face.But he was surprised in his heart: the man with a handsome face at the front of the enemy line was actually much taller and stronger than himself. Nongchai pointed his halberd at the thorny vine sitting in front of the sickle, and asked in local language.His eyes were bloodshot.Ciwan actually sits intimately on the same horse as the "flatlander".The patriarch has the right to marry an adult woman from any other clan, and Nongchai is eagerly waiting for Jaman to turn fifteen and perform the bar mitzvah. Ciner jumped up nimbly from the horse's back, and crawled behind the scythe like a cat, wrapping his legs around his shoulders and neck.She reached out to remove the scythe's hood and brushed the hair from his forehead. The black birthmark was displayed in front of everyone of the Luomeng tribe. "Pari Nan!" Thorny Man shouted. The crowd roared.People's heads were shaking like waves, whispering to each other.Several old women cried out and fell to their knees on the ground, chanting mysterious old sayings loudly, bowing their heads to the sickle, crying.Those standing in the front row backed away in horror, while those in the back row wanted to look forward, making a mess. Some of the soldiers behind Nongchai quietly put away their weapons, while others seemed extremely nervous. The spear that nailed Maji's body was inserted between Nongchai and the scythe.The mount on the sickle head was still moving forward slowly, but Nongchai did not stop it.His arm holding the scimitar trembled with rage. Lian Shou did not look at Ma Guanggan who was lying on the side.At this moment, he just wanted to take this kind old man away.He dared not let the Luomeng people know that he and Ma Guanggan were friends. Sickles looked calmly at the huge man in front of him. Nongchai held up the scimitar. "Sang Mowa!" He pointed the scimitar blade at the sickle, and quickly slid the other palm across his neck. "Guaci Idopari Nansangka Wow!" Lian Shou couldn't understand what he said, but he understood what he meant: He wants to cut off my head in front of everyone! Lian Shou understood because he saw only one desire in Nong Chai's eyes.This desire was familiar to him.He also indulged this desire many times in the floating city. The palm of the sickle rests on the upside-down spear shaft. Nongchai stuck out his tongue and licked his upper lip.The drums sounded again behind him.Different from the ceremony just now, the rhythm of the drum music at this moment is fast, which makes the heart beat. Scythe stretched his left hand to the side of his neck, and patted Ciwan's thigh.The thorns climbed off him gently and jumped to the side of the horse.She looked up at the scythe with confused eyes.Her lower body still had the residual warmth from the back of his neck.He waved her away. Nongchai breathes in harmony with the drumbeat, shrugging his shoulders up and down in response to the beat.He danced the primitive battle dance on the saddle, and his movements were full of rough beauty. ——This is the highest respect paid by the Romon warriors before killing a powerful enemy. The bird feathers on the chieftain's crown swayed like leaves in the wind.The animal tooth amulets on their necks collided with each other. Nong Guai twisted every inch of his upper body with the drum, but his gaze never left the scythe. —is brutal.Devour the flesh and blood of the enemy.The only desire. The iron spear was pulled out from the dirt and dead bodies, and a bloody arrow sprayed on the horse's belly on the scythe. Nong Cai chirped and galloped out, waving the silver-white scimitar obliquely back and forth. The sickle kicked the horse's belly with both legs, and the mount galloped forward in panic. The two riders were less than a foot away—— Nongchai hurriedly reined in the reins, and the love horse suddenly jumped up with smoke under its hooves, and the horse and man flipped into the air together. Nongchai took advantage of the leap and chopped off the scimitar from the highest point! In the eyes of the sickle, the man and horse in the air seemed to have grown several times—— After the sound of gold and iron, the two riders passed each other. An iron spear was two feet long, but was thrown ten feet away by that violent blow. After more than ten steps, Nongchai turned Mahler back.He stepped on his stirrups—the only horse in the whole Roman family that wore a saddle—stand up, raised his arms and shouted. The Luomeng people agreed one after another.The drums became more intense and frequent. The sickle also stopped his mount, looking down at the four-foot iron rod in his hand.The incision of the broken part forms a sharp angle obliquely, and the broken part is very smooth. It was the first time for Liantou to meet such an opponent: an enemy who surpassed him in terms of physique, strength, speed, combat skills, riding skills, and even weapons.He couldn't imagine any way he could win. He has always believed in the sickle head of flesh and power, staring at the broken spear in his hand for a long time.His arm holding the spear trembled from the impact. ——Once faced with an enemy that outperforms them, the strong are more likely to collapse than the weak. While the sound of the drum was surging, Nongchai danced the thrilling battle dance on the saddle again, and moved forward slowly.The horse's hooves trampled over Maggie's body, shattering his flesh and bones.The war horse approached the scythe with a trail of blood. In the confrontation just now, Nongchai had tested that the strength, speed and skill of the scythe were not as good as his own, so he showed a confident smile.The next knife will cut off the neck of the sickle head, and nothing in the world can stand in front of the blade of the "power of ten lions". Sickles couldn't concentrate at all.He dare not look directly at Nong Gua.He closed his eyes, and many images quickly intertwined in his brain nerves.All his memories.Wilderness and ancient city.He seemed to see the sea again.Standing on the beach staring down at his own reflection.Burning "slaughterhouse".The taste of Sakura's tongue.Iron nails pierced through his palms.cell.corpse mountain.forest.Darker forests— Sickle was covered in cold sweat. --fear. Yu Boss's eyes are full of vitality. he shouted. The voice was so shrill that it made one's hair stand on end, overwhelming the shouts and drums of the Romon people.There was complete silence in the basin.Nongchai's dance moves are stiff and frozen. Scythe raised his head to the sky, his arms outstretched, just like the tattoo of the cross on his back. Frightened by the rider's howls, the healthy horse galloped wildly. Nongchai held the scimitar and rein tightly and charged forward. The sickle still maintains the posture of raising the head and extending the arms. Nongchai stared at Sickle's head and neck, raised the scimitar—— The two horses crossed again. The mount with the sickle head continued to run forward, but the man was powerless and fell off the horse's back, and fell limply on the grass. Nongchai faced the crowd of his own tribe, hanging the scimitar by his side.He was convinced that the opponent's head had been chopped off with a single blow just now, and his triumphant smile remained unchanged. The Xuantie Broken Spear pierced through his chin and pierced through the Tianling Cap. The thornvine was the only one in the tribe who responded.She screamed and ran to the place where the sickle fell from the horse, struggling to pull his prone body up. Two lines of tears hung on the face covered with sand on the sickle head.The frightened face contorted and twitched.Tears streamed down filthy cheeks and pooled in a black bead on his chin. —blacker than the deepest night. It was only at this time that the panic of the Romancians broke out.The soldiers rushed up to take a closer look at Nongchai's body. One of them stretched out a wooden stick and poked lightly, and Nongchai fell off the saddle.They avoided them as if they were afraid of the germs attached to the dead body. More women and old people knelt down, weeping and praying loudly to the sky. The warriors then surrounded the scythe and thorns.The sharp points of swords and spears and poisoned arrows were pointed at them. Ciman was not afraid, shouted in the local language, took out the rough blue handkerchief of the weaver, wiped the face of Sickle, and parted his hair again, so that the tribe could see his appearance clearly. "Pari Nan!" The gathered Luomeng soldiers exclaimed at the same time. Ciwan nodded vigorously: "Pari Nan!" "Pari Nan!" Frantic fluctuations arose among the warriors.The drums started again.The alien weapons were thrown to the ground one by one.Pairs of strong legs knelt down, and faces painted with various colors of oil paint fell to the ground. The admiration quickly spread outward.Among the strangely dressed worshipers are old people with dry sticks and canes, whose skin is wrinkled like an elephant's; There are women; there are tall, burly, muscular farmers; there are children with bright eyes and missing milk teeth; there are disabled people who are blind or missing limbs; there are patients with a thin skeleton... Everyone bowed down and worshiped the sickle that was still trembling and crying, and there was only one name in their mouths: Pari Nan.