Chapter 551
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.