Peace Order-Chapter 1622 - 36: Three Major Events Under Heaven

He married a woman, and after having a child, the king of the grasslands looked at the fair-skinned child, understanding the dissatisfaction in Ashina’s eyes.

Thirty years ago, the Great Khan also got drunk and spoke to Mu Zhahe.

"This child is too weak, like his mother."

"Yet he doesn’t resemble the heroes of our grasslands."

Ashina, his little Ashina, hated his father, but even the hatred for his mother’s painful death couldn’t make him draw a knife; he just glared with red eyes like a little girl.

A child with no promise.

However, the Great Khan did not expect that at this moment, the boy, who didn’t even dare to draw a knife against him, would at the most critical moment, amidst the great forces, deliver him the most ruthless blow.

The blood of the Central Plains people, it’s either enduring or completely unenduring.

There seems to be no buffer room in between.

This time, the Seventh Prince’s rebellion,

not only led to the failure of encirclement but also caused Mu Zhahe’s death, ultimately costing him three thousand Iron Futu, and over five thousand other troops, with countless wounded.

The loss of these troops was still bearable for the vast grasslands.

But the death of the Seventh Divine General Mu Zhahe was heart-wrenching even for the Great Khan, causing him to wake up in pain in the middle of the night.

As if a limb had been severed.

When he was young and hadn’t achieved anything yet, he had a royal title in name, but it was just in name, with only a dozen cattle and sheep. In those days, the world was chaotic and unstable, with roaming horse thieves everywhere on the grasslands.

The Great Khan back then had weak martial arts, got beaten, barely escaping with his life, but even his few horses, cattle, and sheep were stolen. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

It was Mu Zhahe who took up a bow and arrow, shared a warhorse with him, and they pursued the bandits on the rain-soaked grasslands for three days and nights. Not only did they reclaim their livestock, but they also plundered the bandits’ goods.

"You see, as men, as long as we have a road beneath our feet and a knife in our hand, the whole world is our pasture. What is there to sorrow about, what can make a man cry?"

Young Mu Zhahe patted the Khan on the shoulder, smiling:

"You’re physically weak; I’ll protect you."

"From today, we are brothers."

The Great Khan returned to his royal tent, reminiscing about the past, holding the pastoral flute from his youth, and his heart ached painfully; losing an Iron Futu pained him more than losing ten brave men.

If he could bring Mu Zhahe back to life, he would willingly trade thirty thousand Iron Futu, but no one can come back from the dead; Mu Zhahe, who had stood by his side since youth, supporting him through everything, truly died on the battlefield.

When the military formation was breached by the Ancient Red Dragon,

he was pierced through the forehead by an old, white-haired swordsman from the Central Plains, instantly nailing him to the ground, a renowned general of the Nine Heavens Grandmaster level, experienced in hundred battles, killed by an old swordsman using Martial World tactics.

Could the swordsmen of the Central Plains Martial World truly have reached such strength?

Is the so-called Martial Arts Legend truly this powerful?

Suddenly he thought of Jiang Su.

The man called a military god over these three hundred years, that man was also still alive.

The Great Khan was silent for a long time, looking at his three broken fingers, the break on his right hand would somewhat lower his ability to wield weapons in battle.

But at his level, he could still exert strong power with his left hand.

Whether or not he could continue to fight depended on his heart’s decision.

Undeniably, when faced with the Ancient Red Dragon, Sword Madman, Prince Qin, and the besieging army, without elite warriors, the Great Khan felt the approach of death, a fear that almost made him want to flee.

The Great Khan held the pastoral flute in his hand, placing it on the table.

Then he slowly clenched his hand, his aura stabilized after a dramatic change.

The Great Khan’s resolve firmed again, looking at his broken fingers, he laughed freely: "Excellent martial arts, excellent tactics, I really took a big fall this time, Zha Muhe."

"I have only this bit of life left to live. Instead of accepting failure and living a little longer, waiting for my time to naturally run out and die of old age in this Golden Royal Tent, I might as well make one final effort."

"Anyway, after my death, the grasslands will fall into chaos."

"Even if I lose my life fighting the Central Plains, the grasslands will be the same after my death—it makes no essential difference in the end."

The Great Khan’s expression turned grim: "After my death, what do I care about what happens to the grasslands."

"It won’t be any worse regardless."

"Zha Muhe, you were right, as long as I have a sword in my hand and a heaven and earth in my heart, the whole world is our pasture, I won’t give up, even if it means a fight to the death, ultimately meeting you below."

Outside the Great Khan’s tent, other Khans and Generals hung their heads, faces tense and panic-stricken—the brother of the Great Khan, the Grand General with the best archery on the entire grassland, was dead.

The Seventh Prince’s rebellion had left even the Great Khan seriously wounded.