CHAPTER 1843: CHAPTER 880: SOARING DRAGON PEOPLE (PART 3)

With the Ice Lance leading the way, the other weapons on the rack seemed somewhat ordinary. But following the habits of a veteran, he still drew his usual Border Guard Blade and tucked it behind his back, then took a pair of Iron Maces and hung them on his belt hoop before carefully lifting the tent flap and stepping out.

Once outside the tent, Hu Bianguan didn’t notice that with his departure, the weapon rack and all the weapons on it started to fade away, as if they had never existed.

His attention was drawn to another object at the tent entrance—a chestnut war horse, complete with saddle and reins.

"Today, my wishes have truly come true."

First the Bright Armor, then the Ice Lance, and now a fine steed. Even in the face of chaotic circumstances, the horse showed no signs of panic and was certainly a battle-hardened warhorse.

Without a second thought, Hu Bianguan led it over, mounted it, and made it his own steed.

Surveying the scene once more, the surroundings caused Hu Bianguan to bristle with anger, blood boiling as the Tukan cavalry had already charged into this temporary camp, wantonly slaughtering and plundering.

In broad daylight, they were pouncing on the Soaring Dragon women, laughing wickedly as they satisfied their base desires. Hu Bianguan seemed to clearly feel the empty and desperate gazes of those women and girls looking at him.

The elderly and children were cut down shamelessly, like rabbits hunted on the prairie.

Many Tukan people were already adorned with gold and silver jewelry, most still stained with blood. Some earrings still dangled with ragged, bloody earlobes, evidently ripped directly from those women.

"You deserve to die! All of you deserve to die!" Hu Bianguan charged out with a forceful slap on his warhorse, disregarding the disparity in numbers.

As a man, unable to protect the women and children of his clan.

As a frontier warrior, unable to defend his homeland.

He felt ashamed of his manly stature.

Thud!

The Tukan people, in the midst of their brutality, were completely unprepared for a fully armed Soaring Dragon heavy cavalryman to burst out.

The nearest Tukan to Hu Bianguan didn’t even have a chance to react before his Ma Shao pierced through the man’s chest. With a slight flick, leveraging the horse’s strength, he flung him away, cleaving open half of his chest.

This was just the beginning. Hu Bianguan knew only to advance, advance, and advance again, tearing open the chests of each Tukan along the way, determined to see whether their hearts were red or black, given the heinous acts they committed.

These Tukan people were more like bands of armed herdsmen than soldiers, with neither resistance awareness nor combat techniques on par.

After Hu Bianguan slaughtered five or six in succession, the rest scattered, rushing for their nearest mounts, seeking to escape this place of strife.

Not willing to let them go, Hu Bianguan relentlessly pursued, killing three more.

But ultimately alone, he found it hard to manage everything.

Five riders managed to break through and galloped into the depths of the night.

With rage in his eyes, Hu Bianguan gave chase, but soon after leaving the temporary camp, he sensed something was amiss.

The Tukan fugitives had vanished, replaced instead by numerous Soaring Dragon soldiers similar to himself. Likewise wearing Bright Armor, some wielded Ma Shao, others long spears, while some carried heavy armor-piercing weapons like Wolf Fang Clubs. Their waists were dotted with short weapons, and more or less blood-stained.

Clearly, like himself, they had just fought a tough battle.

Though he recognized few of them, Hu Bianguan could instantly tell that they were fellow defeated frontier soldiers, not Tukan people disguised in Soaring Dragon armor.

Armor and weapons could be plundered, but living habits—be it in equipment style or weapon possession—showed great differences, something those wild-born Tukan people couldn’t imitate.

Except for those who had lived within the Soaring Dragon Great Wall for generations and were greatly assimilated into the Soaring Dragon Empire, loyal Tukan people.

But such Tukan people could no longer be called Tukan people; they were Soaring Dragon People.

Strictly speaking, Hu Bianguan carried such bloodline, showing subtle signs of similarity to the Tukan people.

But he firmly believed he was a Soaring Dragon Person, with no relation to the invasive, savage Tukan people.

No time for these frontier soldiers to ponder much; the loud sounds of approaching horses and Tukan people shouting were clearly audible, indicating Tukan reinforcements had arrived—a sizable force unlike the scattered soldiers before.

Seeing hundreds of Bright Armor heavy cavalry surrounding him, with his blood boiling from the recent slaughter, Hu Bianguan couldn’t help but curse, then roared: "Damn it all, I don’t know your affiliations, nor your past positions. This isn’t the time to worry about those."

"I just want to ask, brothers, do you still have some hot blood in your hearts? Aren’t you tired of fleeing day after day? Will you fight with me?"

"No need to ask—I’m sick of this kind of life. Any man wouldn’t want to live like a rabbit, chased everywhere."

"I’m a straightforward guy, don’t like beating around the bush. If you say to bravely kill the enemy, count me in. Wherever you charge, I’ll follow. If you keep running, don’t blame me for spitting on you and calling you a coward, wasting such good equipment."

"This brother speaks bluntly, and I like it. Damn it all, just for this equipment, let’s fight."

"Charge and kill all those Tukan people."

"No need to say, wiping out these barbarians has always been my greatest wish."