Chapter 1757: Split 2

At this time, Africa.

Egypt.

After Dike and Jiang Xuan signed a cooperation agreement, Britain will launch an attack on the French to help the Longyan take back the four port cities that originally belonged to them.

This news soon reached Nashadier.

Although Nashadier was deep behind enemy lines and the transmission of news had become very difficult, he had expended quite a bit of effort to obtain this information.

Nashadier was very curious about what kind of news could make Jiang Xuan go to such great lengths to send it to him.

He couldn't wait to open the note and take a look, and was stunned for a moment, but soon a look of joy appeared on his face.

"The day of the counterattack is coming. The British troops will draw away enemy forces for your operation; take this opportunity to act immediately!"

Nashadier's mouth curled upward; he had been operating behind enemy lines for so long.

He hadn't expected that the final chapter was finally about to arrive.

Under his activities, the Wahala Tribe, which already detested the French, now did so even more.

The Wahala Tribe was a large tribe in the vicinity, with countless small tribes affiliated with it.

If such a tribe were to launch a riot within the French Colonial Area, it would absolutely catch the French off guard.

"This matter needs to be discussed with Henry," Nashadier said after a moment of thought.

Henry was the Young Chieftain of the Wahala Tribe and also a friend of Nashadier.

After Nashadier's assessment over this period, it had been confirmed that Henry was a person worthy of trust.

Nashadier soon found Henry inside the tribe.

"Nashadier, are you getting used to living here? Let me tell you, our Wahala Tribe is not only famous for our War Horse, but our mare's milk wine and mutton are equally famous. Try the taste of this mare's milk wine."

Seeing Nashadier's arrival, Henry hosted him enthusiastically.

Nashadier smiled and took the wine skin, took a sip of the mare's milk wine, and praised: "The taste is not bad, it compares to the Yinzhou Drunk of the Longyan."

Hearing this, Henry laughed heartily and waved his hands repeatedly.

"Don't tease me. This mare's milk wine is indeed not bad, but compared to the Longyan's Yinzhou Drunk, it is still far behind."

"I once drank it at the old chieftain's place; yes, that is the kind of strong liquor a Warrior should drink!"

"However, ever since the French fell out with the Longyan, the Longyan's Yinzhou Drunk has never been sent here again."

"Speaking of this, it is truly a pity," Henry sighed.

Nashadier nodded, looked at Henry, and asked: "Henry, do you want to drink Yinzhou Drunk again?"

Henry raised his head and looked at Nashadier excitedly: "Do you have a way?"

Nashadier smiled: "Although you know I am a general, you still don't know what place I am a general of, right?"

Henry waved his hand and said: "Our Wahala Tribe doesn't have that much brainpower to think about these things. A friend is a friend; I don't care what place you are a general of."

Nashadier let out a laugh and shook his head.

Henry looked at Nashadier and said drunkenly: "By the way, what place are you a general of? You said you have a Method to get Yinzhou Drunk; you wouldn't happen to be a general from the Longyan side, would you?"

"Hmm, more or less. I come from Cairo; I count as half a Longyan general, but I have my own troops."

Henry was stunned, then looked at Nashadier carefully and laughed: "Stop joking. How could a Longyan general evade the French inspections?"

"Those Longyan people could never come here, because in this Colonial Area, they are either killed by the French or finished off by those tribes under French control."

"I'm telling you, there are simply no Longyan people who can come here now."

Nashadier let out a laugh, looked at Henry seriously, and said calmly: "My troops are in Cairo; that is a force of over one hundred thousand men. Do you know the French Port?"

"That port is one I took down in cooperation with the Longyan. Want to see proof? Look at this blade."

"On it will be the answer you want to know."

Nashadier drew another blade from his waist. This blade had a slender body, embroidered with patterns unique to the Longyan, in a combination of gold and silver.

Seeing this blade, Henry immediately perked up, and the effects of the alcohol seemed to dissipate.

Taking the blade, Henry felt the profound and mysterious, solemn and mighty patterns on it, which did not look like the styles that existed among their Arab tribes.

He looked at the slender blade body and was even more surprised; Arab blades were mostly Curved Saber.

But this blade was almost straight.

Henry frowned, drew the blade, and a cold light flashed. Before the dim wood fire, this blade emitted a chilling light.

Henry looked at the blade body covered in dense patterns, which did not seem to have been forged with the craftsmanship currently possessed.

He flicked it lightly, and a ringing sound arose, clear and hollow.

A falling hair drifted onto the blade edge and was instantly cut into two halves.

"Good blade!" Henry was sobered, and only this praise remained.

He looked at Nashadier and asked urgently: "Such a blade cannot be made in our Arab tribes. Where does it come from?"

Nashadier smiled and said: "I already told you."

Henry's eyes widened, and he exclaimed: "Longyan!"

Nashadier nodded: "That's right, it comes from the Longyan."

"This is a Longyan Command Saber; only a general can wear it. Now you believe my identity, right?"

As soon as the words fell, the air fell into silence.

The wood fire flickered!

Henry stared at him, silent and speechless. After a long while, he let out a turbid breath, returned the blade, and said: "Drink this wine and leave quickly. If you are a Longyan general, our Wahala Tribe cannot protect you."

"This is French territory. If they discover you, you won't be able to leave."

Nashadier smiled faintly: "Just the French, Brother Henry. What do you think I came here for?"

"Could it really be to reminisce with you?"

Henry did not answer.

Nashadier said again, "Right now, your tribe's chieftain is still in the hands of the French, his life or death unknown."

"After these French arrived here, they seized your resources and your women; although your Wahala Tribe has no resources,"

"but I see that the women in your tribe are extremely scarce, with only some young and old ones left; I don't need to say more about where they went, do I?"

A look of anger suddenly appeared on Henry's face; their tribe's women had naturally been snatched away by the French.

This was their tribe's shame, a shame that had no Method to be washed away.

"This is not something you should be worrying about!" Henry said coldly.

Nashadier let out a laugh, looked at his angry face, and said indifferently, "Women snatched away, chieftain's life or death unknown—for a Warrior, these are things that cannot be tolerated."

"Henry, have you never thought about revenge?"

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