The little chubby Enoch wiped away his tears, gritted his teeth, and nodded heavily.
A look of relief flashed across Beardsley's face; this little guy is becoming more and more sensible.
The White Armor Tribe doesn't need useless bravado, what it needs are people willing to fight and sacrifice for the tribe!
Today, Beardsley's mission is about to be completed.
Three river paths...
Before the blood runs dry, it's enough!
The middle-aged man felt another surge of strength arising out of nowhere from within his body.
His previously stooped posture straightened once more.
The speed of the father and son not only didn't decrease but increased!
Seconds later, the tall and thin figure from the Red Stone Tribe appeared at the spot where the two had just been standing. Behind him, two warriors with red paint on their faces followed, each with six spears tied to their backs.
These two were clearly the Udan Spearsn of the Red Stone Tribe.
"Hey... trying to run back?"
A sinister voice rang out as the leader bent down, sniffing a bit of mud on his fingers. His long, narrow eyes glanced in a direction.
"Chase! Let's see how long you can hold out with an Udan Spear run through you."
The sound of grass being trampled roared from behind, and the Red Stone Guard responded with vigor.
...
The wind was getting faster and faster.
Beardsley couldn't tell if it was because he was moving faster or if it was the effect of excessive bleeding, but it seed like he could no longer hear the sound of pursuit behind him.
"Enoch, we've shaken them off, right? Haha, your father is incredible, isn't he..."
A weak laughter erged as Beardsley's face grew even paler.
With tears streaming down, Enoch lifted his head and looked at his father's weak but brave face, nodding heavily as his voice got stuck in his throat.
"Yeah, Father! We're almost there. You have to hang in there."
"Haha, what does this little distance matter... Back then, your father traversed the vast grassland all by himself, reaching regions far beyond, where the tribes are several tis larger than the Red Stone Tribe. They all marveled at my strength, hahaha... ha..."
Just as this strong man was laughing aloud, just as the third river path was nearly within reach, and just as the clever Enoch was trying to keep his father from closing his eyes...
Beardsley collapsed, his bulky body crashing heavily into the mud.
"Father!!"
A sharp, piercing cry echoed out, startling the birds dozens of ters away into flight.
The dark-skinned little chubby imdiately rushed to Beardsley's side, tears covering his entire face, fiercely tossing aside two big bags of salt, and tried to lift Beardsley's arm onto his shoulder.
His strength was enough to lift Beardsley.
But Beardsley's build was so bulky that even when Enoch fully stood up, he could only barely keep his father's body from lying on the ground.
"Let's go! We're almost there, wake up, Father!"
"Wuwuwu~"
The little chubby's face was now covered in mud, ignoring the two big bags of salt entirely.
He just wanted his father to be alright.
In just a short mont later, laughter erupted from several hundred ters behind.
The leader of the Red Stone Guard who had leaped to a low slope wore a mocking expression.
The Red Stone Tribe prided itself as the sky's hawks, boasting the best vision on the grassland.
At this mont, what t his eyes was the back of the little chubby desperately running with his father on his back.
"Hahahaha!"
"The big guy is down, it's just a little brat left."
The leader sneered and shouted loudly: "Now is the hunting ti, torture your prey as you please!"
"Aowuwu~~"
A cacophony of strange calls echoed from behind.
About a dozen Udan Spearsn looked like they had been invigorated, their eyes gleaming with excitent, charging forward like mad.
Seeing his subordinates go wild, the leader's mouth curled into a bloodthirsty smile, lightly licking his lips, and his right hand caught so red rock powder from his waistband, saring three blood marks on his cheek.
This marked the mont for the Hunter to capture his prey—it was a badge of tribal honor!
He was Hawthorn, the Blood Seal Warrior of the Red Stone Tribe!
Was about to capture the prey, heh…
Leg muscles tensed, preparing for a leap.
But just as he was about to spring forward, a flash of red caught his eye.
Instinctively, Hawthorn looked up.
He saw a red dot growing larger in the grey sky, beside the two towering crescent moons.
A fiery trail stretched long in the dark sky.
Another Outer Heaven teor was falling.
His actions paused, intending to watch for two seconds to deduce the teor's landing spot.
To bring back a large piece of Outer Heaven teor for the tribe—that rit would far surpass capturing two traders from rival tribes!
However, as the "red teor" grew larger in his field of vision, his pupils shrank to pinpoints, his body's hair standing on end.
The red "teor's" landing spot was clearly in their area!
He quickly snatched the bone whistle from around his neck, but before he could blow it, the red teor had enlarged dramatically in view.
Descending with thunderous montum.
Whoosh…
The airflow had just begun to sound.
The massive red gleam crashed into the third river path ahead.
Buzz... boom!
Everyone's eardrums jolted heavily.
The originally calm water was instantly thrown into a massive wave, nearly a hundred ters high.
Mud, water mixed with wild grass and rocks ford a black shock wave spreading in all directions.
Enoch, carrying his father, hadn't reacted; it felt like sothing exploded in his ear, his shoulder sank, and he couldn't withstand the suddenly increased force, both of them were slamd to the ground.
The recently arrived Udan Spearsn of the Red Stone Tribe had barely lifted their heads when they saw the mud storm sweeping in from mid-air.
No orders needed, they all sprawled flat to the ground.
Hawthorn, with his arms crossed at his sides, was forced back three ters on the low slope before stopping.
When he lowered his arms, his smile had reached its widest.
"Truly, the heavens are benevolent, hahahaha!"
His wild laughter recklessly echoed across the grassland.
...
...
A fiery teor descended from the sky.
The people of other tribes on this vast grassland rely looked up for a few seconds before losing interest.
The teor didn't fall on their land; it wasn't destined for them.
Such things depend entirely on heavenly blessing.
But not far from the teor's crash site, three dugout canoes that had resud paddling suddenly slowed again.
Because the recent booming sound from behind was impossible to ignore, and it was too close to the "teor" crash site.
"The teoric iron fell behind! Let's go fetch it!"
The two-ter giant Boluo spoke excitedly, but before he could finish, the elder interrupted.
"No way! Rember, the Red Stone Guard just went there!"
****
PS: A friendly recomndation for my buddy Daliangpi's new book "Fate-Defying Demon King", a story about spiritual revival and chaos in the dark house.
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