Chapter 735: Scorched Earth, Withered Bones Cry for the Khan, Blood Script Ignites Vengeful Souls

The dying sun, like blood, pulls eerie shadows across the desolate Gobi.

Rouran Khan Nuhe Ti rides a warhorse exhausted to the point of foaming at the mouth, his eyes Red Eyes.

The precious purple sable fur coat on his back has long been soaked with dust and sweat, clinging tightly to his spine.

Tens of thousands of elite Rouran Iron Cavalry trail behind him, their formation scattered, both riders and horses exhausted.

All the way in this frantic gallop, they have not paused for a moment's rest, only to rush back to the Royal Court that bears the whole tribe's hope.

When the vanguard cavalry passed the last sand dune, the sight before them made everyone simultaneously tighten their reins.

There were no herds of cattle or sheep, no welcoming Ashi, and no endless rows of white felt tents.

Only black smoke filling the sky and scorched earth stretching ten miles.

Yunhe Ti's breathing stopped.

The Horse Whip in his hand fell onto the sand, producing a dull thud.

"Great Khan."

Beside him, Qiu Sheng Tou opened his trembling voice, but could not utter even a single word.

Yunhe Ti squeezed the warhorse's belly with both legs, the warhorse let out a mournful whinny and surged forward.

The great army followed the Khan, stepping into this ruin that was once prosperous but now turned into a hell.

The warhorse's iron hooves struck the charred charcoal, emitting crackling shattering sounds.

Along the way were the brutally beheaded Rouran old, weak, sick and crippled.

Fresh blood has already stained the Huangtu into a dried purplish‑black hue, and stepping on it feels a sticky resistance.

"How could this happen?"

Ba Dou trailed behind, his teeth chattering.

Yunhe Ti staggered, flipped off his horse.

His knees gave way, and he collapsed straight into the ash of the ruins.

His hands scrambled through the scorched earth, his fingernails filled with black mud and blood stains.

Ahead stood a thick Wooden Stake, half burnt by the great fire.

A female corpse was nailed to the stake with iron nails.

The body had been gutted, its intestines hanging in the air, swaying slightly in the cold wind.

She was the Ashi most beloved by Yunhe Ti.

The sapphire necklace she wore in life still hung on her bloodied, mangled neck.

Yunhe Ti opened his mouth wide, a heavy gasp emanating from his throat.

He rolled and crawled toward the stake, clutching the cold wood with both hands, his forehead pounding heavily against it.

"Ah!"

A hoarse, mournful wail erupted from his chest.

The sound tore through the dusk's dead silence, echoing across the open ruins.

The Rouran soldiers who arrived afterward, seeing this horrifically tragic scene, all dismounted in a flurry.

Ba Dou strode toward the east side of the ruins, where the royal tombs of Rouran ancestors rested.

Soon, Ba Dou's broken cries came from that side.

"Great Khan! They have dug up all the ancestral tombs!"

Ba Dou knelt on the ground, cupping a handful of Huangtu mixed with ash.

"They won't even spare the dead!"

All the royal tombs were violently unearthed, their precious burial goods looted clean.

The ashes of past Great Khans were carelessly scattered by those Turkic People into the wind.

This was not only a massacre, but an attempt to erase the Rouran's very trace on this Grassland.

The Rouran warriors who once swept across the Great Desert now all knelt on the scorched earth, wailing loudly.

The cries shook heaven and earth, the raging resentment of hundreds of thousands nearly tearing the sky's clouds apart.

Qiu Sheng Tou's Red Eyes split at the corners, forming bloody gapes.

He walked to Yunhe Ti's side, Dankui Guidi.

"Great Khan, if this blood feud is not avenged, what face do we have to live on!"

Qiu Sheng Tou drew the curved dagger at his waist, without hesitation, pressing the blade against his own left cheek.

He pulled hard.

A deep, bone‑visible blood scar appeared on his cheek.

Fresh blood surged, dripping down his chin onto the iron armor on his chest.

This is the oldest and most vicious revenge oath on the Grassland.

If the blood feud is not repaid, the scar will not heal.

The surrounding Rouran commanders and soldiers, seeing this, each drew their side swords, carving blood marks onto their own faces.

Tens of thousands of blood‑soaked faces, illuminated by the firelight, resembled a horde of demons crawling out of hell.

At that moment, Ba Dou staggered out from deep within the ruins of the Royal Court plaza.

He held a torch aloft, his voice warped by anger.

"Great Khan! There is a Capital View ahead!"

Yunhe Ti lifted his head, the muscles on his face convulsing violently.

He braced himself on the stake, stood up, drew the long sword at his waist, and strode toward the plaza.

In the center of the ruins, a Capital View constructed from thousands of Rouran noble heads towered in the night wind.

Each skull still retained the expression of extreme terror at the moment of death.

At the very top of the Capital, a half‑person‑high sacrificial stone tablet stood.

The line of Rouran Script painted with fresh blood on the stone tablet pierced the eyes of every Rouran.

A hundred‑year forged slave, killing his master today; the Rouran are merely a flock of egg‑less two‑legged sheep.

The inscription was by Moheduo.

This ultimate mockery lit the fuse of reason in Yunhe Ti's mind.

A slave of a hundred years actually rode onto his master's head.

Yunhe Ti gasped heavily, his chest heaving violently.

He turned the blade around, thrusting the tip of his long sword into the left side of his own thigh.

The long sword pierced the muscle, and fresh blood spurted out.

He forced himself to stay conscious amid the overwhelming rage by enduring the excruciating pain.

"Great Khan!"

Qiu Sheng Tou and Ba Dou both shouted in surprise, stepping forward to intervene.

Yunhe Ti pushed the two aside in one sweep, drew his long sword, and sent a spray of blood flying.

He pointed the blood‑stained long sword at the bleak sky, and two streams of crimson blood‑tears flowed from his eyes.

"Eternal Blue Sky above!"

Yunhe Ti's voice was hoarse and hissing, carrying a mad, decisive resolve to destroy everything.

"I, Yunhe Ti, swear here!"

He struck the stone tablet with his blade, scattering sparks.

"I will not cease until the Turkic clan is exterminated, nor will I let Moheduo's head be twisted off to become a Night Pot!"

Yunhe Ti turned around, facing tens of thousands of Iron Cavalry whose faces were slashed.

"My soul, Yunhe Ti, will fall into the Nine Netherworld, never to be reborn!"

Tens of thousands of Rouran warriors raised their blood‑stained curved swords and roared in unison.

"Exterminate the Turks! Exterminate the Turks!"

The massive roar frightened the circling vulture, causing it to scatter in flight.

That night, the spark of hatred was fully ignited upon the ruins of the Grassland.

The relentless meat grinder, unstoppable, began to spin wildly across the wastelands of the Northern Border.

Far away at the Xiazhou General Command, Chen Yan stood before the Shupan.

He pinched a black chess piece representing the Turks between his fingertips, gently knocked a red piece representing the Rouran down.

The show has only just begun.