We have fought to the Arctic Circle, and you want me to inherit the throne?

Although Chief Yu Lou did not understand Zhang Fan's words, he could guess from his body language and tone that they were definitely not good words.

Mostly it was a threat, and his expression suddenly turned gloomy.

The translator standing by felt a chill down his spine and his breathing stopped.

I have indeed made up my mind to die and have prepared to sacrifice my life for my country.

But the imagined martyrdom was also a result of his own arguments. While maintaining his composure, he argued to the point that the other leader was speechless, and finally became angry and ordered a massacre.

Instead of just pointing at the other person's nose and scolding him, which will make him angry and cause him to lose his head for no reason!

Unexpectedly, Chief Yu Lou's face only turned cold for a moment, and then he spoke kindly:

"Your Excellency has not yet communicated with me, so I don't know..."

"I am Zhang Fan, the envoy of Feng State, and I am honored to meet the great leader Yu Lou." Zhang Fan said nonchalantly.

While the interpreter was stammering in his translation, Zhang Fan raised his eyebrows impatiently and suddenly kicked over the copper plate containing the roasted whole lamb.

When sheep fat was poured on the charcoal fire, flames three feet high shot up, scaring the warriors on both sides so much that they held down the hilts of their swords.

The Yulou leader, Gulhan, trembled his beard, but remained calm: "Messenger, this is..."

Compared with the unreasonable Zhang Fan, it was hard to tell who was the barbarian and who was the envoy from the Central Plains...

"I'm asking the chief, do you want to take your tribe with you to be buried with the Khitan, or do you want to ensure the continuation of the Yulou bloodline?"

Zhang Fan suddenly approached the main seat, knocking over the silver cups on the table, causing them to clink.

Liu Dafeng saw clearly from behind that his master's right hand was always on the scabbard at his waist.

The Mohe people did not confiscate the weapons of the three men. It was not known whether they did not dare to, or they thought the three men could not do anything and were unwilling to confiscate them.

The interpreter's voice began to tremble, and gasps could be heard from within the tent.

Gulhan stood up suddenly, and his seven-foot-tall body cast a huge shadow on the top of the tent.

"Don't force us, envoy!" Gulhan said in a thick, guttural voice. "Back then, the Khitan leader Yelu Daha led a hundred thousand cavalrymen to fight against the Mohe tribes. Back then, the Mohe were even stronger than they are now, and we were no match for them."

"So the great leader is only afraid of the Khitans, and not of my Fengguo?" Zhang Fan suddenly drew the sword from his waist. "Do you really think my sword is not good?"

There was a sound of swords being drawn all around, and a group of Mohe warriors surrounded them in shock and anger.

The translator was already speechless, but Liu Dafeng also stood with his sword drawn, his burly figure was extremely oppressive.

Gulhan's pupils suddenly contracted, as if he could not believe that the other party would dare to draw his sword and threaten him in his own tent.

Are you the envoys or am I?

After all, he was the leader of a tribe. Being threatened in front of his subordinates like this, Gulhan's face was already filled with anger.

"There are only three of you. Aren't you afraid that I'll chop you into pieces at my command?!"

Zhang Fan sneered and took another step forward: "The leader and I are only ten steps apart. If you give the order now, I will make blood splatter within five steps, and I may be able to drag the leader to the underworld with me."

"Even if my swordsmanship is not good enough and I can't bring the leader with me, that's fine. If I die here today, the Dafeng army will raze this place to the ground tomorrow, and my name will be recorded in history, forever remembered!"

The translator also came to his senses at this time and quickly translated Zhang Fan's words.

Gulhan looked shocked, and his fingers were shaking slightly.

For a moment, the big tent became eerily quiet.

At this moment, Liu Dafeng noticed several figures flashing behind the yurt on the west side, with eagle feathers stuck on their fur hats - that was the attire of Khitan nobles.

He just frowned, but saw Gulhan breathing heavily, and suddenly picked up the silver pot and threw it at the servant beside him:

"Why haven't you warmed up the wine for the envoy from the Celestial Empire? How dare you be so neglectful?!"

After saying this, he smiled and apologized repeatedly: "Your Excellency, it was my fault just now. The Yulou tribe has no intention of opposing the King."

"What about what I just said?" Zhang Fan asked.

"We can talk about this, we can talk about it..."

The atmosphere finally eased.

Gulhan said that the Yulou tribe was willing to submit to Fengguo, but it would take time to discuss with many clan leaders and elders, so he asked Zhang Fan to wait here for a few days.

Zhang Fan didn't comment, but nodded slightly to show his agreement.

At the banquet that night, Gulhan entertained us warmly, and served us delicious wine and meat without any charge.

Zhang Fan inquired about this and learned that the cattle and sheep of the Yulou tribe had not yet been infected with the plague, and that the disease was currently only spreading within the Khitan territory. Only then did he feel at ease to eat meat.

Halfway through the banquet, Gulhan's eldest and second sons both came to toast with ox horn cups.

The eldest son had a sachet tied around his waist, which looked like a return gift from His Highness to appease the various tribes, while the second son had a jade pendant hanging around his neck, the carving of which was clearly in the Khitan court style.

Zhang Fan saw this but said nothing, pretending not to see it.

After the banquet, Gulhan arranged the best felt tents for the delegation to rest.

Zhang Fan asked other soldiers and followers to hurry up and get the news, but he only called Liu Dafeng and whispered a few words to him.

Liu Dafeng nodded slightly, then walked out of the tent and disappeared into the night.

When the third watch gong sounded, Liu Dafeng flashed into the yurt and said, "Sir, I've checked. There are three white tents in the northeast corner, and the person on duty has a Khitan accent."

Zhang Fan was sharpening his sword, the blade drawing an arc of light in the moonlight. He stopped his movements, his eyes deep:

"I see Gurhan is indecisive. He clearly has Khitan envoys here, but he didn't tell us. He must be wavering."

"Guerhan's second son wears a Khitan jade pendant, while his eldest son wears a Fengguo sachet." Zhang Fan paused and sneered, "The old fox is doing this on purpose, just to wait for a good price."

"When I entered the tent during the day, I also saw a figure moving behind it. It must be the Khitan envoy." Liu Dafeng frowned and said, "Gulhan is hesitant. What should we do?"

"Waiting for a good price, who gave him the courage?" Zhang Fan sneered, "If he can't make the decision, we'll make it for him!"

"What your Excellency means is..." Liu Dafeng's eyes sparkled, and he had obviously guessed something.

Zhang Fan said coldly, "Go, wake everyone up. Select a hundred good fighters, put on armor, bring bows and swords, and follow me."

"The rest of you, guard this place. Anyone who dares to trespass will be killed!"

Liu Dafeng bowed with a sinister smile on his face: "I understand, sir, please wait a moment."

Soon, the sky became darker.

Hundreds of soldiers from the Fengguo army rushed out from the darkness and headed towards the camp in the northeast corner.

When they met the Mohe soldiers on guard, Liu Dafeng personally led his men forward, knocked them unconscious and dragged them to a corner.

Perhaps because they were deep in the heart of the camp, the Mohe people were far less vigilant than the Fengtian Army, and they were able to be found outside the Khitan envoy's tent by Zhang Fan, Liu Dafeng and others.

When Liu Dafeng quietly walked to the white tent, he smelled the scent of kumis wafting from inside. He howled twice like a prairie wolf, and immediately curses in Khitan were heard from inside the tent.

Liu Dafeng was sure that this was the hiding place of the Khitan envoy, so he turned around and gave a wink.

Half of the soldiers picked up bows and arrows, while the other half took out lighters and lit the arrows.

"Fire!" Liu Dafeng gave an order, and dozens of rockets streaked across the night and landed on the Khitan tents.

When the first rocket hit the top of the tent, hundreds of dark shadows had blocked all exits.

Suddenly there was a cry of surprise from inside the account.

Zhang Fan had already taken off his robe and changed into a set of light armor. He rushed to the front and kicked open the burning tent door.

The heat wave brought sparks to their faces, but Zhang Fan and a group of Fengtian Army soldiers said nothing and just chopped down anyone they saw.

Liu Dafeng was born a ranger, and he might not be good at killing enemies in battle, but fighting in such a complex environment is his strength.

He was a burly man, holding a long sword, and killed dozens of people in a row. His body was splattered with blood, and in the light of the fire, he looked like a demon descending to the earth.

A fair-skinned Khitan man was tying the belt of his armor when he was knocked down by his sword. His blood splattered on the sheepskin mattress and was soon licked into a charred black by the flames.

As soon as this man fell, someone in the melee began to scream in Khitan, the voice sounding indescribably panicked and shrill.

Zhang Fan ran over and recognized at a glance that this person was not an ordinary person.

He waved his hand and his soldiers dragged him away by force.

At this time, the Khitan camp was already a sea of ​​fire. The people inside were slaughtered by Liu Dafeng and his soldiers, and those who ran out were shot into sieves by archers lying in ambush outside.

The noise had already alarmed the entire camp, and many Mohe soldiers had rushed over.

Zhang Fan led everyone out of the Khitan camp and called the translator for questioning.

Soon, the translator bowed to Zhang Fan and said, "Sir, this man is from Yelu Dahe's family, and he is the chief envoy of the Khitan delegation!"

Liu Dafeng looked up and asked, "Sir?"

Zhang Fan's face turned cold: "Chop it off!"

"Here!"

Liu Dafeng raised the blood-stained long sword, ignored the Khitan envoy's terrified cry, and slashed with the sword.

"Your Excellency, wait a minute!"

The Mohe general's shouts and the blade arrived at the same time, and the head had already rolled to the side of the fire.

Several Mohe generals ran forward and saw the Khitan envoy's head with eyes open. Their hearts immediately sank.

"This..." The Mohe generals looked at each other, not knowing how to deal with it.

Zhang Fan sheathed his sword and said calmly, "Don't worry, everyone. Just take me to see your leader."

The generals did not dare to make a decision on their own and nodded in agreement.

Zhang Fan ordered his men to chop off the Khitan envoy's head, and then he took Liu Dafeng and the translator to the big tent.

Before the morning mist dissipated, Zhang Fan walked into the tent carrying a cloth bag.

Gulhan had already received the news. He drank with a gloomy and uncertain expression, and wine stains dripped down his beard.

Zhang Fan said nothing, but just threw the cloth bag in his hand over.

As the charred head rolled to the side of the silver plate, the wine glass slammed heavily onto the table.

"The chief said last night that he would discuss this with the other clan leaders before making a final decision." Zhang Fan wiped the blood from his fingers with a handkerchief. "I think it would be best to invite the Khitan envoy to discuss this matter with us."

He suddenly grabbed the bun of hair and turned the unrecognizable head forward, looking straight at him with the terrified and confused look of the Khitan envoy before his death.

"Your Excellency... why have you come to this?" Gulhan's knuckles were clenched white.

The translator was already numb at this moment, and there was no fear in his heart. He translated Gulhan's words at a very fast speed.

"Why is it so?" Zhang Fan sneered. "I'd like to ask the chief, why did Yu Lou entertain us in the south but entertain the Khitans in the north?"

"Does the great leader think that by playing both sides like this, he can find a way out for the Yulou tribe?"

Gulhan's face turned grim. "Didn't you Daqing people say that when two armies are at war, envoys should not be killed? Why are you doing this?"

Zhang Fan smiled and shook his head: "That's true, but my Feng State and Khitan haven't yet gone to war, and the Khitan delegation isn't an envoy to my Feng State, so naturally they can't be considered envoys."

Ten Guerhans couldn't defeat Zhang Fan in this kind of word game, so they could only lower their heads and remain silent.

Zhang Fan continued, "Captain, you don't think I killed the Khitan envoy, do you? Wrong!"

"We killed them, but they are your retreat, Great Chief!"

Suddenly there was a commotion outside the tent. Several Fengguo soldiers came outside the tent at some point, and the leader was holding a faded flag with the word "Feng" on it.

"This flag..." Gulhan's voice was hoarse.

Zhang Fan smiled and said, "Your Highness has personally bestowed this upon us. Once this flag is hoisted, the chieftain will be one of our own, and the Yulou tribe will be our brothers in Fengguo!"

"Of course, you can choose another path."

He suddenly stepped forward, drew his sword, and pierced the charred head of the Khitan envoy.

"The great leader can capture us. If we want to inform the Khitan of the death, it's still in time to send someone. But I don't know if Yelu Dahe will believe it!"

. . . . . .

At noon, when the shaman of the Yulou tribe came out holding the sacred object of the Qing tribe to take an oath, Zhang Fan was leaning outside the tent looking at the sky.

Gulhan changed into a new robe, and all the elders and generals of the Yulou tribe gathered together.

The Mohe people believed in shamanism and had their own set of rituals for worshiping the gods of heaven and earth.

That was the god of the Mohe people, but Zhang Fan and his envoys did not worship or show respect to it.

Only after the ceremony ended did Gulhan turn his gaze to Zhang Fan.

Zhang Fan smiled slightly and walked to Gulhan.

Heaven and earth are our witnesses, and we swear an oath of blood!

The next day, hundreds more Khitan scouts' corpses were found on the wasteland outside the Yulou camp.

These Khitan scouts who came to spy were killed by Gulhan himself. This was equivalent to a token of surrender, and completely allowed the Yulou tribe to board the ship of Fengguo.

After the matter was settled, Zhang Fan said goodbye to Gulhan and went to the next tribe.

The five hundred elite cavalry sent by Gulhan led the way, and the word "Feng" was freshly painted on the big banner.

When the cavalry was about to set off in the morning mist, Gulhan suddenly rode his horse to stop the carriage.

He took off the wolf-tooth necklace from his neck and threw it into the car window. "Your Excellency, please bring a message to the Prince. The Yulou tribe will never break their promise. If there is a war, please take this necklace with you as a token of trust. I'm sorry, I can't comply without it."

"The Yulou tribe... only recognizes the token and the smell of blood on Lord Zhang!"

Zhang Fan accepted the wolf tooth necklace with a smile and replied, "Please remember this, Chief..."

He lifted the curtain of the car, and the morning sun broke through the clouds and shone on the distant Khitan border.

"When the royal army arrives here, don't act like yesterday. Your Highness is not as easy to talk to as I am."

Gulhan was shocked when he heard this. Can you please talk...?

If the envoys are so domineering, what kind of person is that King Feng?

The more Gulhan thought about it, the more frightened he became, but Zhang Fan and his group had already gone far away.

He stared at the dust raised by the carriage until his confidant leaned in and whispered, "Chief, send someone to retrieve..."

"No!" Gulhan clenched his whip, the silver bell at the end of the whip making a crisp sound. "Order all tribes to melt down all Khitan-style swords and knives to make plowshares, and replace them with Fengguo flags."

He took one last look towards the direction of the Khitan royal court in the north, and suddenly remembered Zhang Fan's words last night -

The people killed by these envoys were the retreat route of the Yulou tribe!