Simultaneous travel: I am a talented person in all the worlds

Chapter 162 War God Shaman Ceremony
When the difference in combat power was so great that Mo Yu did not need to defend himself, neither the claws of the giant wolf nor the swords and bows of the Hu cavalry could hurt him at all, and this small-scale war lost its suspense.

The battle ended quickly, and more than 300 Hu cavalry were killed and reduced to less than 100. The remaining morale completely collapsed, and they threw away their weapons and armor and were captured by the tribal warriors.

At noon, the scorching sun shines on the ice field, temporarily driving away the perennial biting cold of the north, melting the blood ice and bringing a touch of warmth.

The battlefield was littered with corpses, blood and melting snow were intertwined, and the air was filled with a faint smell of rust.

Mo Yu's body was half stained with blood, and he held a brass horn shield in one hand and a seized spear in the other, as he rode atop a tall warhorse. In front of everyone, the brass horn shield absorbed another wave of residual spirits, surging with black energy and emitting a dark glow.

His eyes swept over the kneeling captives and the surrounding soldiers, and his mind was organizing his words, thinking about how to fool them next.

The tribal warriors roughly gathered the Hu cavalry captives, tied them up with ropes, and forced them to kneel down in front of Mo Yu with their heads lowered, not daring to look directly at him.

Buck supported the old man with a broken leg who had first resisted and came in front of him. Mo Yu's mind flashed with memories, and he remembered that this tough old man was Urka, the chief of the Luoluo tribe.

There were three other people, who looked calm and prestigious, like leaders of various tribes, who walked up to him together.

Mo Yu's eyes narrowed, and he was about to speak to deceive.

Regardless of their own injuries, the four men knelt down before him.

Following closely behind, the tribal warriors from the four hidden groups also knelt down, their movements in unison, silently and solemnly.

"."

Fooling around? No need for that.

The northern barbarians respect strength, and the chiefs of each tribe are rough but meticulous people who have a clear understanding of the situation.

They were very clear about the current situation. Numa Seka wanted to go to war with the empire. Even if their small tribes escaped this time, they would never be able to escape the harassment in the future.

As for running to the Empire? If the Empire was willing to accept them, who would be willing to suffer in this barren land of ice and snow?
They were already in a desperate situation, and when they heard Urka say that the strong man who saved them single-handedly was suspected to be a member of the Luoluo tribe.

There’s nothing much to say, just take a gamble and invest.

No matter what the outcome is, it's better than being captured as a slave or dying directly, right?
This made Mo Yu helpless. He had already prepared a bunch of deceptive words and planned to win people's hearts with his eloquence.

As a result, this group of barbarians directly recognized him as their leader without even a questioning look.

No one asked him how he came back to life, so he couldn't just brag about it, right?

After thinking about it, adhering to the principle that facts speak louder than words, he decided to speak with actions.

Mo Yu walked slowly to the old patriarch Urka, dipped his finger in the blood on the ground, used his finger as a pen, and carved a rune shaped like a bull's horn on Urka's forehead.

Urka's cloudy old eyes blurred and his consciousness became hazy for a moment.

In an instant, it felt like I was in a bloody battlefield.

The ground was covered with blood, the wind was pungent, the remaining soldiers and broken limbs piled up into a mountain, and the tattered battle flags fluttered in the wind.

On top of the pile of corpses, a tall, blurry figure stood. The only thing that could be seen clearly was the brass horn shield in his hand.

The figure looked back, with endless fighting spirit and murderous intent intertwined, like a mountain, pressing directly on Urka's heart.

Uncontrollably, fear spread through Urka's heart. He swallowed his saliva, his body trembling.

But the stubborn and unyielding fighting spirit honed in the north ignited in his chest, holding up his divine power and preventing his mind from collapsing.

I don’t know how much time had passed, it seemed like a hundred years, yet also like a moment.

Urka's eyes snapped open, his consciousness returning to reality. The blood on his forehead had seeped into his flesh, forming an indelible battle scar.

In some mysterious way, he could sense a connection with a certain being. A wisp of black energy gathered in his palm, a cold and profound force that seemed to symbolize death.

"What is this?" Urka spoke hoarsely, staring at the black energy in his palm, his turbid old eyes full of confusion and shock.

"I established a connection with a war god in death, and he helped me climb out of hell. In return, I became his high priest, spreading his grace in this world and selecting qualified warriors to become his followers."

Mo Yu withdrew his hand, stared at the old patriarch, and said in a deep voice: "After me, you are the first warrior in this world to pass the test of the God of War."

As he finished speaking, he slowly glanced at the kneeling crowd, "As my former tribesmen, you can choose to refuse this test. I swear in the name of the God of War that I will not embarrass anyone because of this."

Although Mo Yu's oath was sincere, even a girl of only twelve or thirteen chose to accept the test of the God of War.

For the people in the North, strength is almost equal to life.

Without enough strength, your life will be lost in the strong wind and white disaster.

Therefore, they would not refuse any opportunity to seize power, even if it came with certain risks, even if it meant losing their lives. But, so what? It was just the difference between dying sooner or later.

Perhaps it was precisely this contempt for death that, out of a total of 372 people from the four tribes, only a very small number of a dozen or so failed to pass the test for various reasons.

The visualizations of more than three hundred people on the God of War gathered into wishes and poured into the brass horn shield. Mo Yu stared at the shadow of the God of War constructed by his own will for a few moments. The elf was bound by the status of the 'God of War'.

Under Mo Yu's guidance, these tribal warriors began to become familiar with the power in their hands.

One is to use it directly on the body to increase the body's amplitude to a certain extent.

The other is to act on weapons. Even a piece of rotten wood can be cut through steel if it is infused with enough black energy!

Matter determines spirit, and will can in turn influence reality.

As the carrier of the "god", the brass horn shield's own "indestructible" nature naturally became one of the powers of the "god of war".

As the number of qualified believers increases, the image of the "God of War" will continue to solidify and his power will increase accordingly.

When believers practice the way of the God of War, every time they cut off an enemy's weapon in battle, the power of "indestructibility" will grow stronger.

One day, when the number of believers of the "God of War" reaches tens of thousands, perhaps under the justification of actions, the "spirit" in the brass horn shield can truly be sublimated into a god.

Nearly a hundred Hu cavalry captives became sacrifices for this ritual.

After stabbing a Hu cavalry prisoner to death, Bal felt the black energy in his body grow countless times stronger. The feeling of abundant power in his body made him feel more obsessed than ever before.

This feeling is even more charming than the strongest liquor and the most beautiful girl.

Mo Yu felt the increasing number of residual souls in the brass horn shield and nodded with satisfaction. This was the perfect combination of the "Tongtian Lu" and the "Juling Qianjiang".

The runes shaped like ox horns are similar to the Taoist ordination certificates.

Build a two-way channel so that believers can connect with the gods they worship and borrow the power of the gods to a certain extent.

The brass horn shield designed by the heroes, forged during the Qin Dynasty, and inspired by the war madman actually has two characteristics: "indestructible" and "powerful by sacrificing souls".

The more you kill, the stronger you become! The stronger you become, the more evil you become!
Chen Duo, whose traces were hidden by Mo Yu's magic, walked over from the side. She glanced at the bloody scene that looked like a slaughterhouse with indifference, and her green eyes did not fluctuate at all.

It was not until he saw the brass horn shield in Mo Yu's hand that he said seriously, a little uncomfortably, "This is a demonic weapon that can devour its master."

"Yeah, I know." Mo Yu nodded nonchalantly. Of course he knew that this was a demon soldier who would devour his master at any time.

But he didn't care. If the God of War didn't have a bit of ferocity, what was the point of calling him the God of War?

"I almost forgot, witchcraft and sorcery are inseparable. Do you understand sacrifice?" Mo Yu looked at Chen Duo and suddenly remembered something.

The reason why Qin Shi cultivated Yan Lingji so carefully was not only because he was greedy for her body and he was lowly, but also because Yan Lingji's inheritance actually came from the Baiyue sacrifices, and the origin of the fire charm technique was actually the sacrificial dance.

He was in dire need of talented individuals who knew how to perform rituals. With three or four worlds waiting for him to explore, he couldn't possibly have to do it all himself, could he? It wouldn't be a big deal, and he'd get tired of such a tedious task after a few attempts.

"I only know how to make poisons, and I don't know anything about witchcraft." Chen Duo shook his head, his tone as calm as water.

Mo Yu stroked his chin and beckoned, "How about you learn it? You're so good at witchcraft, and the techniques of witchcraft and sorcery are similar. I'm sure you'll be able to get the hang of it quickly."

"Can I choose this?" Chen Duo blinked, her green eyes moved slightly, and she seemed a little cunning.

"Of course." Mo Yu nodded in a gentle tone.

"Hmm," Chen Duo lowered her head as if thinking, and secretly glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Seeing his face full of expectation, she suddenly raised her head and said calmly, "I choose to refuse!"

"what?"

Mo Yu was stunned, his smile froze, and then he sighed helplessly, but did not force her to learn.

Chen Duo's lips curled up secretly in a sly smile, and his hands hidden in his gray sleeves clenched lightly into fists. He was in a very good mood.

Buck had come over at some point, smiling broadly. He leaned close to Mo Yu and asked, licking his cheek, "Mo Yu, can I be the priest you mentioned?"

He patted his chest, his muscles bulging under the hide, his bear eyes wide open, showing off his masculinity.

Mo Yu glanced at him, looking him up and down. This guy was a burly fellow, with a muscular build and a high affinity for black energy. In theory, he was truly suited to being a war god shaman priest. He'd probably be able to chop with great vigor in a blood sacrifice, and his efficiency was likely quite high.

But when he thought that Qin Shi's witch priest was a sweet and soft girl like Yan Lingji, while he was a rough and bearded man, he suddenly felt a chill in his heart and got goose bumps.

"Get lost! If you have the time to spare, go clean up the battlefield and stop being an eyesore!"

(End of this chapter)