667 Sending Arrows with a Song (1/2)
As for the West-Hill Divine Palace coalition army, the Emperor of the South Jin Kingdom had stayed in Capital Cheng while the Crown Prince personally led the troops into the Wilderness. The troop had suffered great losses in the previous battle. Several powerhouses from the Sword Garret had either been injured or killed while the Great Divine Priest of Revelation had been severely injured. However, the true strength of the forces was not greatly affected.
There were also many Haotian Taoism visiting professors like those from the Black Ink Garden of the Great River Kingdom who chose to wait silently.
The Great Divine Priest of Judgment, Ye Hongyu who was waiting in the blood-colored chariot had not yet made any moves today. In a battle several days earlier, she had killed three leading Desolate warriors and exhibited her terrifying true cultivation state. It was important to note that the leaders of the Desolate warriors were close to the Peak state of Martial Arts.
The tall figure of the West-Hill Divine Palace's Hierarch remained in the massive chariot. The Tang cavalry did not demonstrate all their strength in their multiple assaults.
The senior statesmen of the Desolate Man's tribe were being killed and wounded. The First Elder had died on the spot while their most powerful fighter Tang, was seriously injured. There were more than ten commanding warriors who were either injured or dead. The West-Hill Divine Palace coalition army was still just as powerful and had many cards in their hands. How could The Desolate not feel despondent?
The battlefield gradually rested for a little while. Then, the Divine Palace coalition army sounded their drums once more and the troops regrouped, prepared to launch their final attack against the Desolate Man's tribe in the north.
Tens of thousands of Desolate warriors were severely injured or dead. Despite to their strong bodies and will, the majority of them were gravely injured and could no longer fight. Their tribesmen watched Tang, who was kneeling on a single knee in the middle of the battlefield. They knew that the time for their extinction had finally come; their struggles over the millennium and their dreams were all about to vanish.
All was silent in the Wilderness. Then, someone led the masses through a song. The mournful tune floated in the air while rough voices echoed throughout the Wilderness.
”The sky turns cold; the earth becomes cold too. Goshawks daren't look northward.”
”The Hot Sea ebbs; the Hot Sea rises. Snow wolves are being hunted by the Hot Sea.”
”Snow wolves are being chased; Snow wolves are dead. All day busy searching for deer.”
”Where to live; where to die. Where to bury white bones.”
”Min Mountain was grand; Min Mountain was majestic. Min Mountain was the real hometown.”
”Walk through the vast snow; step on the thick frost. All day looking southward.”
”Walk through the vast snow; step on the thick frost. No longer looking southward.”
”I go first, and you come after me.”
”I fight first, and you come after me.”
”I die first, and you come after me.”
”The homeward journey is near; the homeward journey is far. It's on my way.”
”I have gone, and you ought to come soon.”
”I have fought, and you ought to come soon.”
”I have died, and you ought to come soon.”
”I have died, and you ought to come soon.”
...
...
This was a song about their homeland passed down for millennia in the Desolate Man's tribe. After thousands of years of snowstorms, they had finally left the Cold Region of the Far North, the Hot Sea and the snow plains to return to their homeland. However, they were not greeted by flowers or passionate welcomes. Instead, they faced indifferent gazes and bloody battles, resulting in their extinction and the tragedy they faced.
In the past, The Desolate would sing the song solemnly and stirringly. Sometimes, it would be majestic and calm. However, the tens of thousands of Desolate warriors who were dead or injured sat on the blood splattered plains pooled with blood; their voices were hoarse and their singing messy. When their voices rose and fell, it seemed especially mournful, rushing straight into the sky.
Suddenly there was the sound of horse hooves and wheels. The rumbling sound of movement made its way into the Desolate's mournful song. However, their rhythm was not disrupted as their song no longer had a joint rhythm. Instead, it gave the song some sort of stable rhythm that was calm, steady and indifferent.
Clouds covered the sky in the northern Wilderness as a black horse carriage headed towards the clouds.
The Desolate looked at the carriage and helped each other up with difficulty. The old veterans with white hair, young soldiers, strong men with broken legs and serious injuries and women covered in blood all looked at the black horse carriage with awe and fear. Then, hope emerged in their expressions.
Proud knees fell on the blood-soaked grounds. Where the black horse carriage passed, the Desolate knelt and kowtowed. Some of the seriously wounded Desolate soldiers could not get up anymore once they knelt, and passed away.
Tang knelt on one knee on the middle of the battlefield in Wilderness. His left knee had sunk deeply into the mud, squeezing out numerous streams of black liquid. It might be the milk of the Wilderness or the blood of his tribesmen. He stared at the massive chariot in silence and at the barely discernable tall figure on the platform as he adjusted his breath.
The Desolate were facing extinction. As the World Wayfarer of the Devil's Doctrine and the leader of their fight, he could not accept this fact. He had to make the West-Hill Divine Palace pay a terrible price before he died.
At this moment, in the Wilderness, the most important and noble person to the countries in the Central Plains was naturally the Hierarch Lord of the West-Hill Divine Palace who was on the massive chariot. He was Tang's ultimate goal in life.
Then, he heard the singing of his tribesmen wavering behind him. He heard the clopping of hooves and the rumbling of wheels. He turned around and saw the black horse carriage.
There was a thin layer of frost on the black horse carriage while the insides of the carriage were covered with a thick layer of ice. The Fire Fu in the brass basin froze in the cold and looked like a ghost fire that could extinguish at any moment.