The Demon Lords-Chapter 637 - 113 Surges of Emotion: Washed Away (Part 3)_1
Upon the desolate plains touched by the chill autumn wind, a tall platform had been erected. Around it, a dense sea of people sat, their warhorses beside them.
The scene was somewhat chaotic; from the generals to the warriors below, everyone was whispering amongst themselves.
This was an extreme display of disorder, revealing the lax discipline of this army.
Even in the former Qian State, during grand festivals or when the imperial family felt inclined to watch military exercises on the training grounds, the Qian State's Imperial Guard could still maintain the bearing of "elite troops."
If this were Shengle City, such a situation would be utterly impossible. The discipline of Shengle's army was something no other state or faction's forces could rival.
For instance, when General Zheng took the stage, everyone knew precisely what actions to perform in unison, and what to do after he finished speaking.
Everything, from the slogans they chanted to the rhythm of their weapons striking armor and the ground, had been rigorously rehearsed.
But here, now, amidst these tens of thousands of fighters, was a chaotic scene reminiscent of a bustling marketplace.
Until a man draped in a white wolf-hide robe slowly ascended the high platform.
"HOOOOOO!!!!"
"HOOOOOO!!!!"
The sound of horns rang out, and the entire field fell silent.
All the wild people warriors instinctively straightened their chests.
If General Zheng of Shengle City built his glorious and upright image in the hearts of his soldiers through the propaganda efforts of his subordinates, then this King of the Wild People had won the unwavering loyalty of these wild people warriors through his own legendary deeds across the snow plains—deeds pure and unembellished.
True glory is not diminished by minor flaws. Instead, such imperfections can make it seem even more dazzling.
The Wolf King's bow, the Wolf King's submission, is for the better continuation of the pack, and also to bide time, waiting for the day the prey grows weak and old.
The King of the Wild People stood on the high platform.
Below, wild people warriors responsible for relaying his words lined up in succession. They would act as "amplifiers."
This was a speech, a speech to tens of thousands.
A pre-battle exhortation, an ancient custom.
The King of the Wild People raised his hand
and bellowed:
"Warriors of the Sacred Tribe, children protected by the stars!
"HAH!"
"HAH!"
"HAH!"
All the wild people warriors placed their left palms on their chests. This was an action performed only by the most devout believers during tribal rituals when listening to the invocations of a shaman.
In their hearts, their King was akin to the stars themselves, guiding them forward to carve out vast new lands for their tribe and for generations to come.
The King of the Wild People was not a tall man, but at this moment, his presence was as imposing and majestic as a mountain.
His voice, raw and unadorned, was even somewhat hoarse from shouting at the top of his lungs.
Yet, it was precisely this timbre that seemed to possess a captivating magic, compelling all to listen, to follow, to stand with him.
"Look at the armor you wear, look at your saddles, your quivers, your swords!
Now, lower your heads!
Look
at the land beneath your feet!
This place
was once where our sacred ancestors thrived!
This place
is the homeland we have yearned for these hundreds of years!
This place
was once the dawn of our glory!
This place
shall be where the stars are rekindled!
You
are the bravest and most skilled warriors under my command!
You
are the strongest fighters from all tribes of the snow plains!
In your hearts
burns the purest loyalty to the stars!
Swords,
I have given you!
Armor,
I have also given you!
Your warhorses have eaten their fill of fodder, and you, these past days, have had your fill of women!
My warriors!
I ask you now:
I have given you everything.
How will you repay me?"
"HAH!"
"HAH!"
"HAH!"
The King of the Wild People pointed west behind him.
"There, the Black Dragon flag of the Yan people has appeared! They once ravaged our snow plains, slaughtered our kin, plundered our livestock, and desecrated our pastures!
Now,
just as we have set foot on this ancestral land,
they have come again!
They want to drive us out!
To drive us out of this land—
this land that rightfully belongs to us!
This is the land beneath your feet! Here, your sons, your grandsons, and your tribe shall flourish for generations to come!
They foolishly seek to expel us all, just as they did eight hundred years ago.
Come!
Raise your swords!
Don your armor!
Mount your warhorses!
Go and show them
whose home this truly is!
In the ages to come,
the descendants of our Sacred Tribe who grow up on this land
will forever remember the glory you win for them this day!
Come,
warriors!
Under the guidance of the stars,
tear them apart!
Crush them!
Let their blood be the first rain to nourish these new pastures beneath our feet!
The snow plains…
are too cold.
The snow plains…
I do not want to go back.
Do you?"
The King of the Wild People drew his sword. Below the high platform, the many chieftains behind him also drew their weapons. Further below, all the wild people warriors raised their blades high.
"Stars above, protect our tribe!"
"Stars above, protect our tribe!"
"Stars above, protect our tribe!"
...
「Twenty soldiers bore a command litter, upon which sat an old general, bald and beardless.」
