Hassan's strength was far beyond his imagination. When Muhadi was kicked, this thought came to his mind. I was misled by the literary image of the earth again. The elves may be weaker in the novel. In this world in Attas, they are absolutely strong and deadly.
Muhadi's mouth filled with blood and bile, bitterness and stench, and the reluctance to use the spirit beyond his own ability made his mind go hazy, and he became sluggish to everything around him. All I remember is that I went back to the tent with the help of Fatuma, and then fell to the ground.
When I woke up, it was already the next morning. Although the daytime in the desert is hot, the period before the sun rises will be extraordinarily cold. Mohadi looked around and found himself in a spacious tent with some unknown animal skeleton set up as a tent support. The tent was messy piled with debris and weapons, a machete and a bone bow. Just randomly placed in the corner. Then, Mohadi found himself lying naked on a blanket.
"Aha, you're awake." Fatuma's voice came. "Overused psionic power, I thought you were going to lie down for days, then I'd have to throw you back into the desert." She He was wearing a close-fitting jacket, and the white and tender skin on his limbs and shoulders was exposed. There is also no hood, revealing the long ears of the elf.
Fatuma dangled in front of Muhadi nonchalantly, picked up a piece of clothing and put it on. "Ready to go? We'll be leaving soon."
Muhadi felt powerless. "My clothes," he said weakly.
"It's all on the ground, pick it up yourself, don't you want me to help you?" Fatuma said.
"Still." Fatuma seemed to realize something, turned around suddenly, rode on top of Muhadi, raised his chin with one finger, and said with flirtatious eyes, "My little slave is shy? Tsk tsk tsk , then you are more tender than I thought. Don't worry, I didn't take the opportunity to use you last night."
Muhadi's face became hot, and then he picked up his clothes as calmly as possible and put them on. "How do we go and where are we going?"
"Ride on a horse. Go where you should go." The girl replied in a natural tone, "The prophet is on top, you should be able to ride a horse."
"A little bit." Muhadi replied, but he didn't say that he had only ridden castrated horses or mares, and they had never ridden a desert horse like them.
"But where did I get the horse?" Muhadi asked the second question.
"We have spare horses, and the riders use them in rotation to save horsepower. You can ride my spare horse." The girl replied.
"How is Hassan?" Muhadi asked bitterly, wondering if he would come to trouble him again.
"It's still the same as usual, with a stinky face, a rotten mouth, and a stupid head," Fatuma said. "But he's still a bit strong. I'm surprised that you can hurt him."
"It's a pity that I'm too far behind him in terms of strength," Muhadi replied.
"I'm also far behind him in terms of strength, but it's not difficult for me to kill him. Your skills are good, but your speed is too slow. If you win, it will be troublesome. Hassan has a wife and a daughter. , if you kill him in a duel, you will have to take care of these two in the future." Fatuma said shocking words in a casual tone.
"He still has a wife and daughter?!" Muhadi asked in surprise, "And why should I take care of his wife and daughter if I win?!"
Fatuma glared at him, "You don't understand anything, don't you? That's the way the duel is, if you win, the loser's horse, his machete and property, his wife and daughter will also go. is you."
"What if I lose?"
"You're a slave, and you don't have any property yet." Fatumai said unceremoniously, "If you lose your life at most, you don't have to pay him anything. But in the end, the duel was stopped by Red Hand, so it's a draw now."
"'Red Hand'?" Muhadi wondered.
"That's the leader of our group, the old man. The red hand is his title, similar to 'bey' in your human language, or the meaning of military leader. In the tribe, except for the chief, he is the largest. "Fatumai said, "Don't underestimate him, he was a mad warrior when he was young, and he is not bad now. He has six pillars in front of the tent in the tribe."
"What do you mean by six pillars?"
"That means he's got fifty heads, idiot. Every grown-up warrior in the tribe will put a pillar at his door to collect the heads of their enemies. A pillar filled with ten heads. , it means that he became a great warrior, he inserted six pillars, what do you think this means?"
What a sturdy folk custom, Muhadi thought, the elf nomadic tribes he encountered were too different from those in ordinary novels.
"As a slave, is there any way to change identities?" Muhadi paused, and asked as non-offensive as possible. "Can you be a warrior instead of a slave?"
Fatuma was stunned, and then laughed wildly, as if Mohadi had said some big joke. "Little slave, do you still yearn for freedom? You are truly a rare comedy genius. I like you for that."
"There is no absolute freedom in the desert. Everyone is limited by fate. But everyone in the desert also has their own freedom. For example, if you want to be a slave, simple, propose a duel to me, and then you can win!"
"But don't judge me by that Hassan's level," Fatuma patted the dagger hanging from his waist. "His knife can't hit my shadow slowly."
"I have no intention of challenging you. Fatuma," Muhadi said.
"I don't dare to forgive you." The girl smiled again, "You will be a top-level slave, I am almost eighteen years old, and by your human standards, I will be fourteen years old. You will be married soon, and one will A psionic slave can be a very valuable dowry."
I'm just a dowry? The idea displeased Muhadi. But for now, I can only hold back and wait until I fully integrate into this world. Another point in her words is very interesting. Eighteen years old of an elves is equivalent to fourteen years old of a human? It seems that in this world, although elves still live long, they cannot reach the level of hundreds of years old.
After the two were dressed, they were ready to set off. These elf tribesmen moved as fast as the wind. A group of people quickly packed up their tents and carefully covered up the traces that they had set up a camp here. It only took less than ten minutes to get everything ready.
Muhadi cautiously mounted the horse that was now his own, a large stallion, unflared, more than six feet high at the shoulders, with white body hair and black tufts, and a high tail.
This beast was very bad-tempered, and found that Muhadi wanted to ride it, struggling desperately and jumping with all his strength. Almost knocked the boy off the horse. Muhadi nervously grasped the reins and mane, barely showing his face.
The people around didn't pay much attention to him, only Fatuma showed a half-encouraging, half-sneering smile. The leader glanced at him coldly, then turned his head to look elsewhere.
Fortunately, although horses are unruly, the saddles in this world are similar to those on Earth, except that the stirrups are two leather covers instead of metal. It is also linked to the two machetes last night that were made of obsidian. It seems that in this world, metals are very scarce.
A group of people just set off on horseback, and no one said much along the way. The old man who looked like a leader took the lead, and the rest followed closely behind him. Occasionally, the leader would stop, dismount and look around, as if looking for something.
The leader licked his fingers, then stretched out his fingers to sense it, and turned back to give orders loudly. "The wind direction is about to change, let's speed up, the group can't escape far!"
The knights immediately let out a wolf-like roar, and everyone drove their horses to run faster, "mapш!" Muhadi also shouted, "mapш! mapш!" He desperately urged the horses to run faster.
It turned out that they were chasing another group of people, but they rescued me along the way. It seems that I was lucky to survive in the desert.
Riding on a horse and galloping on the sand, it felt like flying, the hot wind was blowing past, and the sand splashed by the horse in front hit him from time to time. These elf nomads are surprisingly familiar with the desert terrain, and almost instinctively avoid dangerous quicksand areas and sand snakes that almost blend in with the sand.
Just when Muhadi began to wonder when the chase would end, a row of tiny black dots appeared on the distant horizon.
The excitement of the elf riders was exuded without words. Everyone pulled out the machete around their waists, and Muhadi also pulled out the machete in a similar way. A young rider riding beside Mohadi grinned at him, encouraging. Fatuma rides a little ahead, holding a smaller machete in her left hand, and a metal dagger in her right hand, a gem and a metal dagger found from Muhadi last night. She releases the reins and uses her legs to control the horse. .
The dark spots grew larger, revealing silhouettes of human figures and draught horses laden with loads, and some strange large animals that looked like—giant beetles magnified countless times.