Finest Servant

Chapter 551 The Duel

As 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. Search immediately—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a whistle sounded as a flare arrow shot into the sky, bursting into dazzling fireworks against the night.

"Turkic bastards, your Great Hua grandfather is here!" A burly man clad in a nomadic robe, his face covered in whiskers, sat astride a horse. He shouted and burst into hearty laughter. Tossing his hat aside, he revealed a square-jawed face.

"There he is—catch him!" The Turkic cavalrymen yelled in fury, brandishing their scimitars and charging at Gao Qiu.

"Go!" Gao Qiu shouted urgently, swatting away incoming arrows with his blade in one hand and spurring his steed with the other. His horse let out a long neigh and shot out like an arrow, scattering the Turkic soldiers in disarray, and bolted for the outskirts of the camp.

The Turks were indeed well-trained. Despite Gao Qiu's sudden and fierce assault, they didn't lose their composure. Thousands mounted their horses in unison, giving chase.

"Shh—" Another flare arrow soared into the distant sky, seemingly in response to the action here.

"Great Hua cavalry spotted forty miles ahead!" came a report from a forward scout, causing the Turkic commander's cheeks to flush with excitement. Drawing his curved blade, he shouted, "Invincible warriors of the Turkic tribes, the time to prove your valor for the Khan is now! Kill these Great Hua intruders; kill them all!"

"Kill the Great Hua!" The savagery of the Turkic people was fully unleashed as they howled like wolves. Three thousand riders crouched low on their horses, moving almost parallel to their steeds. They were faster than flying arrows. The thundering hooves struck the grasslands like spring thunder, making the earth seem to tremble.

Glancing back, Gao Qiu felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Over three thousand warhorses were galloping toward him like a rapidly advancing mountain range under the sky, stirring up a cloud of dust. The scimitars in the hands of the Turks shimmered with a dim light, and even before they got close, the whooshing sound of the wind was already audible. Arrows flew with an uncanny accuracy, targeting his head and shoulders. He swung his blade incessantly, his mind numb with fear.

Only on the vast plains could one truly feel the invincible regality of the Turkic people. Their swiftness on horseback and expert archery were unmatched by any foreign tribe. Compared to the raids in the desert, the hordes of Turkic riders on the plains were far more terrifying.

After galloping for over twenty miles, the sweat poured down the Turkic war horse like rain, yet its speed showed no signs of slowing. The Turkic cavalry behind him remained no more than two to three hundred yards away, their screeches and the whistles of their arrows filling the air. Even Old Gao, a man of unparalleled martial arts, could not help but grimace, his ears buzzing from the noise.

"Old Hu, Hu Bugui! Where the hell are you?!" Gao Qiu shouted in despair, clutching his head with both hands as he dodged an incoming arrow. His war horse let out a low whinny and foamed at the mouth. Its front legs gave way, sending it tumbling to the ground. As it fell, its hind hooves kicked upwards, flinging Gao Qiu off.

Seeing the Great Hua soldier thrown from his horse, the Turkic riders let out a cheer, blowing their whistles and galloping toward him like the wind.

"Damn it!" Looking at the Turkic cavalry rushing toward him, Old Gao rolled twice on the ground before leaping up and running for his life.

"Fear not, Old Gao! Hu Bugui is here!" came a thunderous roar from the distance. The pounding of hooves echoed like explosive spring thunder. Countless torches lit up the night, making it as bright as day, while the Great Hua dragon flag fluttered in the firelight. Overwhelmed with emotion, Old Gao's eyes filled with tears. "Mother, the cavalry has finally arrived to save me!"

Watching the Turkic cavalry charge like wolves, Lin Wanrong gripped Old Gao's hand earnestly, "Brother Gao, if we win this battle, you'll be the hero of the day."

"You flatter me, Brother Lin. It was my duty," Gao Qiu grinned, instantly forgetting the recent danger. "The Turkic horses have run over twenty miles without stopping; they're practically running on fumes. These fools are in for a rude awakening."

Just as the two men exchanged a few laughs, the advancing Turkic cavalry slowed to a halt. A gruff voice rang out from the Turkic ranks, surprisingly speaking in the language of the Great Hua Empire, "Who goes there? Are you Great Hua cavalry led by Wo Lao Gong?"

Lin Wanrong rode forward, smiling, "I'm afraid not. That's a name only my grandmother should use. Who am I speaking to? Are you a general from Ejina or Ha'er Helin?"

"I am Soranki of the Ejina tribe," replied a fierce-looking Turkic man, pointing his whip at Lin Wanrong. "Wo Lao Gong, dismount and surrender now. I'll spare you a complete corpse. Otherwise, I'll tear you to pieces."

"How cruel," Lin Wanrong chuckled, "Esteemed General Soranki, I've heard you're the bravest warrior on the plains, is that correct?"

Soranki hesitated for a moment. Though he considered himself extremely powerful, he dared not claim to be the bravest warrior on the plains. But seeing Lin Wanrong's mocking smile, he fumed, "I am one of the bravest warriors of the plains! You weak Great Hua, do you dare to duel me? I swear on my warrior's honor, I will not ambush you!"

Lin Wanrong squinted slightly, his eyes fixating on the other man's horse for a few moments. With a grin, he spoke, "You are the bravest warrior of the plains, no question about it. As for me, I can only be considered the weakest warrior of Great Hua. So, if General Soranki wishes to pit the bravest warrior of the plains against Great Hua's weakest, well, it's an offer I can hardly refuse. Tell me, General Soranki, what weapon are you most skilled with?"

Soranki handed his bow and arrow to someone beside him, then loftily unsheathed his curved blade. "I am a Turkic cavalryman; I will duel you with this scimitar. I swear by the god of the plains, there will be no sneak attacks."

"Ah," Lin Wanrong let out a prolonged laugh, "In that case, I won't take any unfair advantage. To keep things fair, each of us is allowed to use just one weapon. Whoever is first to be dismounted or struck by the opponent loses. What do you think, General Soranki?"

"You wish to test my horsemanship?" Soranki sneered. "Very well, the terms are fair. I will use my scimitar. What will you use?"

Lin Wanrong reached into his robe and pulled out a small, dark object, gripping it tightly in his hand. "To demonstrate the magnanimity of Great Hua, I shall use this short weapon against you. As you can see, it's much shorter than your scimitar. I am an honest man, General Soranki, and I assure you, I won't take advantage."

The short weapon in Lin Wanrong's hand was indeed very small, not much larger than Soranki's palm. Two metal tubes were attached to it, their faint gleam revealing little of their potential lethality.

"Fine, let's proceed as you suggested," Soranki said, relieved. He spurred his horse, preparing to advance.

"Hold on a second!" Lin Wanrong took another glance at Soranki's horse and waved his hand, smiling. "Wait, General Soranki, there's one more thing we haven't settled."

"What more is there?" Impatient and displeased, Soranki shot back.

Lin Wanrong smirked, "Since we're dueling, there should be a wager. General Soranki, if you lose, your three thousand cavalrymen will surrender and submit to my judgment. If I lose, I'll let one person go free."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Soranki was visibly upset. "If I lose, I forfeit my entire tribe. But if you lose, you only set one person free?"

"Don't rush," Lin Wanrong said, pulling something from his boot. "Take a look at this, and you'll see it's worth it."

In his hand was a small, exquisitely crafted curved blade made of pure gold. In the light of the burning fire, it shimmered with a brilliant luster.

"Isn't this Yueya’er's scimitar?" Gao Qiu softly exclaimed.

Soranki's eyes widened in a mix of awe, fear, and desire upon seeing the radiant golden blade. He dismounted, dropped to one knee, and offered a deep bow. After mumbling some devout words, his eyes flashed a murderous glint as he remounted his horse. "People of Great Hua, I accept your terms!"

To think that this Yueya’er was more important to him than his three thousand tribesmen? A look of astonishment crossed the eyes of Gao Qiu.

Lin Wanrong nodded and smiled, handing the golden blade to Hu Bugui. "Very well, General Soranki. This is probably the fairest duel in the history of both Great Hua and the Turks. Let's begin now!"

"Charge!" The moment Lin Wanrong finished speaking, Soranki spurred his horse forward. His gleaming curved blade slashed through the air, emitting a chilling light as he galloped straight toward Lin Wanrong. As his horse leaped, there seemed to be a slight stumble, but Soranki was too focused on the kill to notice such details.

"Good move!" Lin Wanrong laughed heartily, squeezed his legs around his warhorse, and darted off like an arrow.

A hundred yards, eighty yards. The two men closed in on each other, ready for a life-and-death struggle. Suddenly, Lin Wanrong burst into laughter, turned his horse, and started galloping perpendicularly to Soranki's direction, crisscrossing the open ground in front of their armies.

"Where are you going?" Spotting what seemed like pre-battle hesitation on the part of the Great Hua warrior, Soranki felt a surge of joy. He yelled and pursued Lin Wanrong.

The generals and soldiers from both sides watched their commanders intently, not even daring to blink as they focused on every move.

Soranki's horsemanship was indeed extraordinary. Lin Wanrong sprinted ahead while he followed closely behind, slowly but steadily closing the gap. From an initial hundred yards to eighty, then fifty, the soldiers of Great Hua suddenly broke into a cold sweat.

"Watch my gun!" Lin Wanrong shouted as he turned his head while galloping. His black gun aimed directly at Soranki.

Soranki, riding his horse, instinctively ducked. However, the short weapon did nothing, emitting no sound. It was a feint. The gap Soranki had narrowed was instantly widened, eliciting a hearty laugh from the Great Hua soldiers.

This cycle continued: one would run while the other pursued. Whenever Lin Wanrong would shout, "Watch my gun," Soranki could only duck his head in frustration, inciting more laughter from the troops.

After two rounds of this, the mocking laughter reached Soranki's ears. The Turkic warrior couldn't take it any longer. Lifting his blade, he roared, "Cunning Great Hua man, if you dare, stop running!"

"Cowardly Soranki, if you dare, stop chasing!" Laughter echoed from the Great Hua side, utterly relaxed.

Finally, Soranki could endure no more. Gathering all his strength, he struck his steed, pushing it to its limits. Foam frothed at the horse's mouth and its body was drenched in sweat that looked like blood.

With Soranki's last desperate effort, the distance between them closed rapidly—thirty yards, twenty yards. Soon, even the hairs on Lin Wanrong's face were visible.

"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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