Chapter 734: Greedy Wolf Swallows the Sun, Sweeping the Sky; the Forge Slave Rips the Tent and Steps into Dragon City

The vast Great Desert, bathed in the setting sun, took on a strange dark crimson hue.

The view swept over the towering Great Wall, crossed a thousand miles of yellow sand, and reached the once‑imperious Rouran Royal Court.

The power heart on the Grassland now has nothing left but charcoal filling the heavens and ruins.

Ten li of linked camps turned into scorched earth, and the flames burned the whole sky into a nauseating blood‑red.

The ground was littered with incomplete corpses; headless Rouran nobles lay haphazardly in pools of blood.

A sharp smell of charred meat and solidified blood hung in the air, drawing flocks of bald vultures to circle and wail in mid‑air.

At the very center of this battlefield of demons stood the wreckage of the golden‑topped great tent that symbolized Rouran hegemony.

Half of the great tent had been burned away, leaving only a few stout golden nanmu pillars still emitting black smoke.

Crown Prince Moheduo sat upright on the pure‑gold sweat throne covered entirely with White Tiger Skin.

This good brother who had sworn blood with Chen Yan was now idly toying with a Rouran Jade Seal missing a corner.

He casually trampled underfoot the Great Banner bearing a wolf's head that had once terrified the entire Grassland.

No trace of any fanatical triumph‑induced frenzy could be found on Moheduo's young face.

In his deep eyes there was only a calculation and rationality cold to the bone.

A clamor rose from outside the tent.

Qibi Ge Leng and Zhishi Sili lifted the tattered tent curtain and, bristling with blood‑fury, strode in.

Their Leather Armor was hung with bits of flesh, and the excitement on their faces was unmistakable.

"Crown Prince!"

Qibi Ge Leng's loud voice shook the dust off the tent's roof, causing it to flutter down.

He pounded his Chest Armor hard, producing a muffled thud.

"This time we've finally hit the big jackpot!"

Qibi Ge Leng pointed toward the outside of the tent, spitting furiously.

"We've tallied it up; just the gold, silver and jewels hidden by those Rouran nobles would fill ten thousand big carts!"

Zhishi Sili added, his eyes flashing with greed.

"And a hundred thousand young Rouran women and blacksmiths have already been strung together with rope, just waiting for your order to take them away."

Zhishi Sili drew a list from his waist and handed it to Moheduo.

"The three hundred thousand heads of cattle and sheep scattered across the Grassland have also been corralled by the brothers!"

Qibi Ge Leng drew a curved, serrated blade and swung it hard through the air.

"Crown Prince!"

He stepped forward, a wild battle fervor igniting in his eyes.

"Our brothers' morale is high now; killing these old, weak, sickly ones is simply not satisfying enough!"

Qibi Ge Leng struck his own helmet with the back of his blade, producing a clanging sound.

"Let's just set up a formation right here on the ruins of this Royal Court!"

Qibi Ge Leng licked the blood‑stained smear from his lips.

"When Yunhe Ti that old fool brings the Rouran Main Force back, we'll strike while they're exhausted and wipe them out in one blow!"

He raised the curved blade high, his face twisted.

"As long as we crush Yunhe Ti's main force, the Turks will become the sole masters of this Grassland!"

Moheduo's expression did not change at all after hearing this boastful speech.

He slowly set the jade seal down, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

Then he lifted the pure‑gold wine flask at his side.

It was filled with West Region Grape Wine seized from the Rouran Wine Cellar.

Moheduo stared at the scarlet liquid in the cup and flexed his wrist.

He smashed the wine flask hard against Qibi Ge Leng's face.

Wine and nasal blood splattered across Qibi Ge Leng's large face, flowing outward.

Qibi Ge Leng was stunned, staggered back two steps, covering his nose, his eyes full of disbelief.

"Crown Prince, what do you mean by this?"

Zhishi Sili was also stunned, frozen in place by the turn of events.

Moheduo rose, looking down from his height at the two hulking warriors, his gaze cold as a blade's edge.

"Dominate the Grassland?"

Moheduo's tone was low, yet carried a chilling pressure.

"With the meager troops you have now, you think you can stand toe‑to‑toe with Yunhe Ti's ten‑thousand blood‑thirsty veteran cavalry?"

He descended the steps of the sweat throne, his leather boots making no sound on the White Tiger Skin.

"Are you all pigs' brains?"

Moheduo stepped before Qibi Ge Leng and grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"Chen Yan that guy has calculated our movements to death!"

Moheduo shoved Qibi Ge Leng aside with force, then paced back and forth before the two.

"He gave us intel, letting us sneak into the Rouran's old home—do you think he's being charitable?"

Moheduo halted, sneering as he pierced the sunny scheme.

"That's called borrowing a knife to kill!"

He pointed toward the southern direction of Great Zhou, gritting his teeth.

"Chen Yan wants to enrage the Rouran Main Force, forcing Yunhe Ti to go mad and rush back…"

He knocked on the pillar beside him.

"He can't wait for us to be here and fight the Rouran Main Force to the death!"

Moheduo placed both hands behind his back, looking up at the charred tent's hole overhead.

"When we and the Rouran have fought to mutual ruin, draining the last drop of blood....."

He turned around, glaring fiercely at his subordinates.

"Chen Yan's Iron Cavalry will cross the Great Wall, sweeping us and the Rouran into the trash heap!"

This analysis was like a bucket of icy water, dousing most of the fervor of the two Turkic People generals.

Zhishi Sili swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty.

"Crown Prince, what should we do now?"

Moheduo walked back to the sweat seat, and with one kick sent the wolf‑head Great Banner on the ground into the fire basin.

The Great Banner made of wool touched the flame, igniting a towering blaze.

"Send the order to the whole army!"

Moheduo turned around, his voice exuding absolute reason and coldness.

"Take all the gold and silver, women, and Herd of Cattle and Sheep, and immediately break camp and retreat!"

He walked to the desk, drawing his side sword.

"Retreat to the foot of Jinshan, converting these plundered riches into our own weapons and Warhorse!"

Moheduo's gaze turned to the distance, revealing the restrained ambition of a heroic villain.

"The Turkic People do not yet have the appetite to swallow the entire Grassland in one bite; withdrawing to digest the spoils is the proper way."

He let out a cold laugh, sheathing his side sword.

"Chen Yan wants to use me as a gun, but I refuse to let him have his way!"

The military order was as solid as a mountain, and the Turkic People army, like a black ebb tide, bearing astonishing wealth and populace, swept away swiftly.

Only a few strands of resentful black smoke remained in the ruins.

Before leaving, the blood‑thirsty Su Nongtun lifted a head still dripping blood.

He walked to the largest sacrificial stone tablet at the center of the Royal Court.

Su Nongtun carved an eye‑catching line of Rouran Script on the stone tablet with a curved blade, then smeared fresh blood into the groove.

Having finished, he let out a wild laugh, flipped onto his horse, and rode away following the main army.

Within half a day of the Turkic People's withdrawal, the far end of the Grassland swirled up with endless yellow sand.

The ground's tremor grew from faint to violent, eventually turning into a thunderstorm‑like roar.

The black, oppressive cavalry line surged forth like a tide.

Yunhe Ti led the Rouran Main Force, having run countless Warhorses to death, and hurried back to this mournful ground.

They were like a horde of vengeful demons crawling out of hell, bearing sky‑piercing murderous aura and fatigue, charging straight at the Royal Court.