Chapter 75: No Kneeling Allowed

At dawn, the sky over the grassland remained immersed in a mysterious blue-black, the sun not yet breaking free from the horizon's bonds. Suddenly, a burst of urgent hoofbeats shattered this tranquility, and the residents of the Buluhui tribe awoke from their dreams. The Nake'er of the tribe rode swift, vigorous horses, holding gongs and drums, beating them forcefully while shouting with a powerful voice: "The chief has issued an order: a Shaman has arrived at the tribe today; all herders must visit the chief's tent to pay respects to the Shaman tonight."

The powerful shouts awakened the herders still in deep sleep; everyone felt a mix of joy and worry, along with some confusion upon hearing this news.

Given the scale of their Buluhui tribe, they could not afford to hire a person like a Shaman. In this grassland where religious superstition ran deep, the Shaman's words were the will of the gods, and the Great Khan could only become the leader of the tribal alliance in the name of the gods with the Shaman's support.

Yet Shamans usually chose the strongest tribes; why would they choose a tribe like theirs?

In fact, every nomadic tribe hoped to have a Shaman, for a Shaman who only pretended to be a god but brought no actual benefit to the people could not possibly hold such high status.

In a sense, the Shaman should be the most learned in the nomadic tribe; during nomadic migrations, the Shaman could roughly predict the weather, and when people or livestock fell ill, the Shaman could treat them.

But precisely because of this, the tribe had to offer many tributes to the Shaman, which ordinary tribes simply could not bear.

Since the grassland was vast and each household was far from the main tent, and not every family owned a horse, by the time everyone arrived, it was already dark.

As night fell, the torches in the tribe sparkled like stars, gradually gathering into a brilliant sea of light. These ignited torches swayed in the night wind, illuminating the originally dark sky as if it were day.

The portly Buluhui Wuge solemnly introduced Nie Huaishang and Guo Jing to the herders below: "Everyone, from today on, these two are the Shamans of our Buluhui tribe. You all know that the Shaman represents the will of the Eternal Heaven; the Shaman's words are also the will of the Heavenly Gods. Please do not disobey the Shaman's words in the future, or the entire Buluhui tribe will suffer the wrath of the Heavenly Gods."

As Buluhui Wuge's words fell, the herders of the entire tribe erupted in an uproar; they could not even afford the tribute for one Shaman, let alone two—selling them all into pieces wouldn't be enough to support them.

But did herders like them have the right to refuse the Shaman's words, to reject the will of the Eternal Heaven?

Under the tense gaze of the crowd, Guo Jing stepped forward and spoke: "The chief has just introduced my identity, so I will come up and say a few words and announce a few things."

Hearing this, everyone grew even more nervous; according to past experience, Shamans would demand money, cattle, sheep, women, and slaves from them in the name of the gods.

"Two days ago, the Eternal Heaven sent me a dream. In the dream, He told me that human sacrifice harms His people, and the existence of slaves insults the dignity of His people. Therefore, from now on, human sacrifice is forbidden, and all slaves in the tribe must be liberated and granted freedom."

Upon hearing these words, the herders in the tribe looked at Guo Jing on the high platform in disbelief. Precisely because of the cruelty of human sacrifice, herders and slaves maintained awe toward the Shaman, fearing they might do or say something wrong to offend the Shaman, while slaves were important property to the herders.

Had the wolves on the grassland stopped eating meat and started eating grass today? Before they could react from the shock, exhausted slaves were led out of the dim horse pens by the Nake'er. The air instantly filled with a heavy smell of horse manure and damp earth, yet this did not hinder their nimble movements, for they were long accustomed to such scenes.

The Nake'er raised heavy stones and smashed them fiercely against the heavy wooden yokes binding the slaves. Each impact was accompanied by a crisp cracking sound; the wooden yokes shattered into pieces under the immense force, with wood chips flying as if cheering for the slaves' liberation.

As the wooden yokes shattered, the bonds on the slaves gradually loosened, revealing long-lost relief and freedom on their faces. In that moment, they seemed to break free from heavy shackles, regaining the freedom to breathe and walk.

Countless slaves looked up at Guo Jing on the high platform; knowing this person had given them freedom, they knelt down one after another, speaking words of gratitude and pleading while kowtowing.

"Thank you, Shaman my lord, thank you, Shaman my lord, for letting me escape the status of a slave."

"Thank you, Shaman my lord, for abolishing human sacrifice and saving our lives."

"Shaman my lord, you are a rare good person; may I become your slave? I am very good at working."

Looking at the people kneeling and bowing in gratitude below, Guo Jing felt his heart filled with rage; he did not understand why some people felt happy, proud, and superior when others knelt to kowtow to them.

We are all humans with two arms and one head; why must we distinguish between high and low, noble and base? Why must we elevate our own dignity by trampling on the dignity of others?

Now, he had no time to think about these things, for he was utterly enraged.

"Stand up. No kneeling allowed."

As Guo Jing spoke, he struck the air three times with palm thunder. The deafening thunder shook every inch of land between heaven and earth, and dazzling lightning tore through the pitch-black night sky like countless silver dragons dancing.

The slaves who had been kneeling and kowtowing now stood very straight; no, strictly speaking, every herder in the tribe stood very straight at that moment.

Looking at the people standing straight, Guo Jing nodded with satisfaction and said: "This is right. From today on, no one in the tribe is allowed to kneel."

Seeing the satisfied Guo Jing, the herders couldn't help but mutter to themselves: "This new Shaman is truly strange, but the fact that he can summon lightning proves he is the genuine representative of the gods' will. Moreover, he is a good person; following him will not lead to loss."

Meanwhile, the nobles of the Buluhui Tatar tribe collapsed on the ground. Due to their status, they knew to some extent that the profession of Shaman involved some degree of pretending to be a god to deceive people.

They might possess real skills, but they certainly could not represent the will of the gods, yet the palm thunder just now truly delivered a massive shock to them.

Could Lei Ting, which represents the Eternal Heaven's wrathful punishment, be controlled by humans? Only an envoy from the Eternal Heaven could control such punishment. Could it be that because they abused and slaughtered the Eternal Heaven's people, the Eternal Heaven sent them to punish these slave owners?

Panic in their hearts caused them to collapse involuntarily on the ground. At this moment, in the eyes of the Buluhui family, Guo Jing was the envoy descended from the Eternal Heaven, bearing a sacred mission, wielding authority, and acting as the god who governed the human world.

His image was infinitely elevated in the hearts of the family members, filled with mystery and awe, as if every move he made carried the will of heaven and earth and could sway the fate of the world.