I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 13 A single arrow pierces the clouds, and a thousand armies come to meet!

The waiter opened the door to the clubhouse lobby.

Muhammad and Walid arrived together, with Walid slightly behind.

This subtle difference in positioning was precisely observed by certain cunning old foxes.

In a corner of the inner hall, several white-haired princes exchanged a meaningful glance.

interesting.

Muhammad was completely unaware of this.

Or rather, Muhammad, in his burning state, couldn't care less about any of that at the moment.

His back was ramrod straight, his white robe fluttering slightly in the airflow passing through the hall. His steps were steady and powerful, carrying a unique solemnity and sense of strength that came with being burdened by both immense opportunity and responsibility, as he descended the spiral staircase step by step.

It was very ceremonial.

The ceremony made Walid want to kick him a couple of times and say, "I, the king, will not allow anyone to act so arrogantly in front of me!"

"Huh? Why is His Highness Muhammad coming down?"

"Isn't there still an hour left in the match?"

"Didn't we just drag that kid Walid up there to put out the fire? Why is he back down so soon..."

Is this trying to add fuel to the fire?

Low murmurs filled the magnificent hall.

Those gazes, whether inquisitive, disdainful, or simply curious, instantly focused on the two of them like spotlights.

In the eyes of many, Muhammad's steward's previous bet of ten million US dollars on a "draw" was merely a desperate attempt to appease Walid by "spending money to avoid trouble."

After all, this guy is a gold mine with the halo of 'divine miracles'!
He's both a walking billion-dollar black gold card and a 'miracle child' whose popularity is boiling over. If you don't win him over, who else should you win him over?
Moreover, as the elder of the group of three, it was perfectly normal for Muhammad to pay money to settle the matter at this moment.

Everyone understands the ways of the world and human relationships.

But the amount of money spent...

Many people shook their heads in disbelief.

Although Muhammad was nominally assisting the Crown Prince in handling state affairs, everyone knew that he didn't have much real power or personal gain.
This ten million US dollars is probably half a year's worth of his personal savings.

These days, to make kids happy, you have to swallow your pride and bear it!
Pitiful!
Turki leaned against a golden column inlaid with malachite, an unlit Cuban cigar between his fingers, idly scanning the entire room.

When he saw Muhammad and Walid appear at the top of the stairs, a hint of surprise flashed across his eyes, which quickly turned into a knowing, bitter smile.

He beckoned to his trusted butler, his voice not loud, but clearly penetrating the surrounding noise: "Go buy ten million, 'a draw'."

The butler looked up in astonishment: "Your Highness? Weren't you so certain before..."

Before he could finish speaking, Turki's sharp gaze swept over him, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

The butler immediately fell silent, bowed, and left to receive the order.

Not far away, a genuine look of surprise flashed in Walid's amber eyes.

He looked at Turki, who met his gaze and simply shrugged his broad shoulders indifferently.

"Why are you looking at me? The three of us came together, there's no reason why we shouldn't bet together."

His tone was flat, as if he were talking about something completely ordinary.

The hall fell silent for a moment, then a chorus of low chuckles erupted as if everyone had just realized something.

The onlookers exchanged knowing glances.

Got it! It's just a vanity project for the Salman family!
Even if Prince Turki was certain that Phantom would win, he could only grit his teeth and follow in Muhammad's footsteps to demonstrate family unity!

The rule that the Sudri people are of one blood and one family must not be broken!

However, His Highness Turki paid out that ten million much more easily than His Highness Muhammad.

Walid was also reflecting on this in his heart.

In fact, it must be said that Turki is a very suitable person to be a friend.

The deeper one's understanding, the clearer it becomes that Turki is utterly hopeless.

Besides, Turki didn't even like women, so there was nothing that could be done about it.

He summoned Angari Jr. and said, "Add another 2000 million to Turki's brother."

Seeing Muhammad's neck twitch, Walid felt helpless.

Damn it, you can't mess with kids who have suffered from painful family backgrounds!

He quickly added, "Brother Muhammad, add 4000 million to make it a round number."

Muhammad's droopy lips curled up, while Turki on the other side rolled his eyes dramatically and gave Walid two straight middle fingers.

The ace pilot's anger is simple and brutal!
Before this little incident had even subsided, a sudden figure stood up!
It is Prince Saud of the Utaibi family!

Not long ago, he and Prince Mansur glared angrily at Walid, looking ready to charge at him and fight to the death at any moment!
At this moment, the tall, arrogant young prince strode to the betting table amidst countless astonished gazes.

He slammed his black and gold card heavily onto the sensor, the sound echoing sharply in the air.

"Ten million! A draw!"

After swiping his card, he went straight back to his seat and downed a glass of wine.

The stark contrast made the entire hall so quiet you could hear a pin drop!

Everyone is stunned!
Has this troublemaker from the Utaibi family changed his ways?

Or were they terrified by Walid's methods of sanctioning Mansour?

But then, something even more unexpected happened!

Prince Mansur bin Muqrin, who had been sitting silently in the corner with a gloomy expression, suddenly slammed his phone heavily onto the coffee table in front of him!

The movement carried an uncontrollable rage and shame.

"Azman!"

His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against his throat, as he growled at his butler, who stood frozen to the side, "Place your bet! Ten million! A tie!"

After saying that, he took out his black gold card and threw it almost at the butler, Azman.

Throughout the entire process, he didn't even glance at his butler.

His hawk-like eyes were fixed on Walid's face at the top of the stairs!

A storm was brewing in his eyes.

There was apprehension, scrutiny, and even a hint of... barely perceptible awe?

This huge turnaround is even more unbelievable than Saud's call!
Just as everyone was filled with doubt and uncertainty, and a buzz of discussion was about to erupt—

"Ajman tribe, Suvid Ajmi, bet ten million US dollars, 'Tie'!"

A loud voice with a unique tone, like the distant camel bells deep in the desert, suddenly rang out, instantly drowning out all the noise!
The crowd parted like a tide.

A slightly overweight young man dressed in a traditional Bedouin robe strode over, surrounded by several burly guards in similar attire.

His robe was not the pure white commonly seen in royalty, but rather a brownish-yellow base color with desert ochre, and the edges were embroidered with ancient tribal totems in dark blue and dark green silk thread. As he walked, his demeanor was as dignified and imposing as a mountain.

He walked straight to Walid and stopped three steps away, placed his right hand on his chest, and bowed deeply, his posture devout and solemn.

"Your Highness Walid bin Khalid,"

His voice was loud and sincere: "May God grant you peace, and may His glory forever shine upon the lion of Talal!"

Walid was startled.

Ajman!
The maternal lineage of the Talal clan!
He immediately composed himself, a polite smile appearing on his face, and returned the greeting with the same solemn gesture of placing his hand on his chest.

"Brother Suved ibn Ajmi, may peace descend upon the warriors and elders of Ajman!"

The next moment, under everyone's astonished gaze, Suved stepped forward, lowered his head slightly, and gently touched Walid's forehead with the bridge of his high nose.

Then, he raised his right hand and kissed the back of his hand with utmost solemnity. Next, his left shoulder and right shoulder gently touched Walid's shoulder in turn, and finally he opened his arms and gave Walid a brief but powerful hug!

The nose-touch greeting, followed by a kiss on the back of the hand and a shoulder-to-shoulder greeting, is the highest form of etiquette used by desert tribes for elders, chiefs, royalty, or long-separated relatives.

"brother!"

Suvid whispered in Walid's ear with unwavering resolve, "Ajman's scimitar will always be pointed at the enemy for you!" The entire hall was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat!
Only heavy breathing and the faint hiss of the air conditioner could be heard.

Everyone was awestruck by this ancient ritual, which was full of primal power and blood ties!

Even Muhammad and Turki showed surprise!
During the unification war, the Ajman tribe was annihilated by Sudri and split into two.

Part of it became the Emirate of Ajman in the United Arab Emirates, and part became the Saudi Ajman tribe.

Prince Talal's mother came from this tribe, and Walid's great-grandfather was the great sheikh of the Ajman tribe.

(Note: In Saudi Arabia, the Grand Sheikh is the highest elder, representing the entire tribe externally and possessing the final arbitral authority internally. In Gulf monarchies such as the UAE, Bahrain, and Qatar, the Grand Sheikh is the king.)
But no one expected that this blood connection would be publicly declared in such a shocking way at this time and place!

This is more than just support; it's practically a pledge of allegiance!

An even more chilling coldness truly pierced the very marrow of every powerful and influential person present at this moment!

The Talal faction... can actually mobilize the military power of the border tribes to back them up?!
When did that incredibly wealthy conglomerate, which has always been criticized for being "lawless," acquire the scimitar that can hold to someone's throat?!
The fact that the Ajman tribe has no military power means that there are no senior commanders in the National Guard, but it does not mean that the Ajman tribe has no troops.

However, the Ajman tribe has always had to keep a low profile because of its sins of resisting the royal army during the war of national founding, and because the Talal line, the leading family in the royal family, has no heir.

And now...

The fact that they were able to put up a stubborn resistance back then demonstrates the bravery of this tribe.

Countless terrified gazes swept wildly between Walid's calm profile and the tribal scimitar at Suvid's waist.

The white-haired prince in the corner gripped his wine glass tightly, the cold amber liquid reflecting his pale face.

Wrong! Completely wrong!

This is not a ridiculous bet by princes to spite each other, but a power ceremony in which the Talal faction bares its fangs!
"Oh God..."

A suppressed gasp escaped from between Mansour's teeth.

He finally realized what kind of monster he had provoked.

I'm also incredibly glad I listened to advice!
After a brief silence, came the eve of a storm, a time of intense repression.

However, this is just the beginning!
As if receiving some silent command, a series of resolute voices rang out from all over the hall, like the beating of war drums!

"Shemair tribe, Abdul Shamari, bet ten million US dollars, 'Tie'!"

A middle-aged man with a resolute face and sharp eyes made a solemn announcement, while several equally valiant guards behind him gripped the hilts of their curved swords at their waists.

"Anzai tribe, Manil Muled, bet ten million US dollars, 'Tie'!"

The voice came from a lean, iron-like old man with eyes as sharp as a desert falcon.

"The Halb tribe bet ten million US dollars, 'Tie'!"

A burly man, as imposing as an iron tower, roared in a deep voice.

"The Dawasir tribe bet ten million US dollars, 'Tie'!"

"The Mutel tribe has bet ten million US dollars on a 'draw'!"

……

Nine border tribes!

The core force covering Saudi Arabia's long border and controlling the National Guard's manpower!

Like nine silent sand dunes, they suddenly rose up at this moment, slamming their will into this extravagant gamble in an almost brutal way!

Nine voices, nine declarations!
Each announcement was like a heavy hammer blow, striking Prince Bandar's heart!

All nine tribes bet on a draw, just like Walid did; this scene was too bizarre.

He does not believe that the bets of the nine tribes are a support for Walid.

The nine tribes are riddled with conflicts and it is impossible for them to unite!
Even the Talal faction doesn't have that much influence!

Otherwise, the monarchy would have changed hands!

So……

Prince Bandar gasped.

Could it be that I've actually leaked it?

The color drained from his face at a visible speed.

His meticulously trimmed beard trembled slightly, and his knuckles, holding the cigar, turned white from gripping it so tightly.

He had unconsciously snapped off that expensive Cuban cigar sometime earlier, and the ash fell in a flurry, staining the hem of his expensive white robe.

Crazy! All crazy!

These damn tribal mad dogs!
How dare they? !

How did they know?!
Bandaer clenched his teeth tightly, using all his strength to barely maintain his composure, but the fine beads of cold sweat on his forehead were clearly visible under the magnificent crystal chandelier.

The figures around him, draped in white Emirati robes, were also completely frozen in place.

The elegant and composed smile on her face had long since frozen, and deep in her eyes was an undisguised panic and disbelief.

Just as the suffocating silence and the terrifying pressure emanating from the nine tribes reached their peak—

The heavy door of the clubhouse, studded with intricate copper nails, was slowly pushed open from the outside.

The intense desert sunlight flooded in instantly, casting several elongated shadows on the carpet.

Several middle-aged men, dressed in different styles but all in understated yet luxurious butler uniforms, filed in.

Their appearance carried an invisible, chilling pressure that instantly drew everyone's attention.

The group walked steadily, their eyes fixed straight ahead, and went straight to the gleaming gold betting table.

The head steward, whose hair was meticulously combed and who wore a small but extremely conspicuous gold Salman sword and shield badge on his chest, nodded slightly to Jamal, who was in charge of placing the bets.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like ice beads falling onto a jade plate, clearly carrying throughout the entire hall where you could hear a pin drop:

"By order of His Highness Prince Mohammed bin Nayef, a bet of one hundred million US dollars is placed on a 'draw'."

boom!
The crowd's nerves were instantly jolted, as if they had been thrown into boiling oil and then ice water!

This is just the opening act!

Following closely behind, the second butler stepped forward, his voice equally steady and powerful: "By order of His Highness Prince Ahmed, a bet of one hundred million US dollars is placed on a 'draw'."

"By order of His Highness Prince Aziz, a bet of one hundred million US dollars is placed on a 'draw'."

……

The sixth butler's voice carried an undeniable penetrating force: "By order of His Highness Crown Prince Salman, a bet of three hundred million US dollars has been placed on a 'draw'."

Rumble!
It was like a thunderclap from the heavens above my head!
Crown Prince!

The future king!
Three hundred million US dollars!

This is no longer a bet; it's a blatant declaration of allegiance and a show of will!
The last butler spoke slowly, his voice aged and calm, yet seemingly carrying immense weight, bringing this earth-shattering gamble to a final close:
"By order of His Majesty King Abdul, a bet of 500 million US dollars has been placed on a 'draw'."

Everything is quiet!

Time seemed to have been paused.

The air was as thick as solidified asphalt, pressing heavily on everyone's chest, making it hard to breathe.

On the huge electronic screen, the astronomical betting records representing the will of the prince, the crown prince, and the king were like red-hot irons, burning the retinas of everyone present.

Nine border tribes!

The Seven Heroes of Sudari!
Even the new generation of Prince Sultan from Bandar's Sultan family!

Crown Prince!

king!

The core strength of the entire Saudi royal family and border guards...

At this moment, in a way that is almost absurd yet incredibly terrifying, they stand uniformly behind the same betting option—"a draw"!

……

(End of this chapter)