Chapter 227: Chapter 195: Where Does the Road Lead

Amidst the mountains of Yanzhou, the golden eagles circled.

The fierce golden eagles had already killed off the crows, and were now attacking the sparrows who dared to fly into the sky. It wasn’t for sustenance, just out of disdain, as they were the true aerial predators, the top birds of prey.

What were sparrows, daring to fly in the sky like them?

Only the top predators deserve to soar the skies, a paradise for the brave, and as the brave, the courage to challenge the strong is never lacking—like that bird not far away, larger than them by a significant margin, even though they were already large for golden eagles, yet that bird was even bigger.

But after catching a whiff of blood, they still charged, ready to give that flamboyant bird a tough time, to show it who really ruled the sky.

But what awaited them was not talons and a sharp beak.

It was a trident spear.

"Where did these beasts come from! Die!"

The trident Sulutin swept across, and all the golden eagles that wanted to peck at the flesh were knocked down from the clouds.

And the golden-winged roc wielding the trident, looking at those absurdly large golden eagles, couldn’t help but feel a toothache.

"It’s actually... never mind."

Personally killing the golden eagles he raised, this left the golden-winged roc, or rather, the prairie khan, quite upset. Although, given his status, it didn’t really matter, he could always train more, but thinking of his previous setbacks and existing wounds, this little annoying incident stood out even more.

No one has a good temper after a failure, especially such a significant defeat.

But in the end, he still managed to suppress his anger, because getting angry over this was meaningless. Moreover, before he acted this time, he was already prepared for failure—victory and defeat are commonplace in warfare. Winning every time is impossible, especially since the opponent he was challenging was far stronger, lowering the chances of victory.

Yet he still went on, to confront that nearly unbeatable enemy.

Having a powerful enemy is not necessarily a bad thing.

The weak fear enemies, for them it’s terrifying, as they are as vulnerable as rabbits on the ground, capable only of fleeing. Warriors overcome this fear, viewing enemies as opponents, as sparring partners, growing more mature and stronger under the pressure from enemies.

And at his level, being considered a formidable figure, an enemy is a rare treasure.

As one becomes stronger, the targets he can deem as enemies become fewer, making it increasingly difficult to gain real combat experience—from true battles, anyway. Sure, he could fight weaker opponents to keep in practice, but that wouldn’t actually make him better.

Though Evil Qi could be accumulated through sheer numbers, combat experience couldn’t be amassed the same way. A lion killing only rabbits, even a thousand, would only become an expert in rabbit hunting—but such knowledge doesn’t prepare the lion for battles with beasts of its own caliber.

Hence, it is necessary to engage with those of the same level or even much stronger.

Of course, there’s risk involved, but risk often comes with rewards—and this is not just about reward and risk, it’s that this opponent was blocking his inevitable path—even though he wished to strategically engage in a systematic battle with Southern Chen, it was clear that in this damned world, if he didn’t first eliminate the top experts of Southern Chen, his war game would be over before it began, with all his soldiers slaughtered.

Yes, a war game, that is his ultimate goal.

He doesn’t enjoy life-and-death struggles, not at all. It’s foolish to brutishly fight like monkeys. He is not a monkey; he’s a khan. His role is to strategize, to direct large armies in attack, making heaven and earth his chessboard, all beings his pieces. That is what he, as a khan, is meant to do.

That is where his joy lies, the source of his pleasure.

A true strongman should lead troops to conquer the world, not fight over trivialities like monkeys.

"But to achieve all this... power is necessary."

The prairie khan narrowed his eyes.

This is what frustrates him most. To fulfill his ambition to gallop across the world, he ironically must first become a strong monkey himself—because if he relies solely on troops, this war game won’t progress, even if his army could intimidate all around, some foolish monkeys with brute strength wouldn’t play chess with him but directly overturn his board and smash his table.

"Just like those monsters."

Glancing at his unhealed wounds, the prairie khan sighed.

He doesn’t truly believe such monsters are invincible, just needs to think of ways to enhance his strength—but what’s the point of such battles? It’s not what he wants, never intended to charge and fight like monkeys, never wanted to clash and kill like them. What would continuing like this achieve?