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The Dothraki also spread out their formation. Since the cavalry wasn't lined up as densely, the two sides appeared to be of similar size. With a raise of Bharbo's hand, the Dothraki halted. The two forces faced each other from a distance of about five hundred paces. The Sun and Moon Legion was utterly silent, as still as a mountain. Infected by the other side's aura, the original noise from the Dothraki gradually subsided, with only the warhorses snorting and restlessly pawing the ground.

Bharbo, the Khal, and his attendant kos, all veterans who had spent their lives in battle, could naturally see that their enemies were not ordinary. Unlike the fanatical young ones, they all frowned deeply, their expressions solemn. At the Khal's signal, a bloodrider waved his hand forcefully. The front-line screamer warriors released their arrows, a rain of projectiles falling on the empty ground between the two armies.

Mistha rode his horse to Liu Yuan's side and said, "Lord, this is a custom of the Dothraki Sea. It means the other side intends to negotiate; shooting arrows signifies that the meeting place should be beyond the arrows' range. Refusal would mean there's nothing to discuss, and they'll attack directly."

Liu Yuan smiled and said, "Interesting. Then let's talk to them! Faelan, let's respect their etiquette and have our archers fire a few arrows too." He pointed forward with his riding crop, and Faelan turned to relay the order. A team of archers ran forward, drew their longbows, and shot arrows, neatly creating a semicircle on the empty ground ahead.

Seeing the response, Bharbo led Drogo and four of his men forward on horseback. The horses ambled forward with small, leisurely steps.

Liu Yuan said, "Just a few of you, come with me. Let's meet this Stallion King. Grig, catch up with the carriage and bring those things of mine. We should have some presence when we make an appearance." As he spoke, he rode out of the formation, Mistha hurrying to follow on horseback with three other guards, their warhorses also moving at a leisurely pace.

Grig rolled his eyes, picked up Liu Yuan's seat and some other items, placed them on a war chariot, and then drove the chariot, following behind them. There was no way, with his height of over two meters, he hadn't found a suitable mount along the way. Riding a horse was like riding a dog; his legs almost dragged on the ground.

Since the legion's archers had a longer range than the Dothraki, the location was closer to the Dothraki line. Bharbo Khal, also a man of etiquette, looked back and then moved forward a bit further.

Grig had already driven the chariot ahead of them, his height of over two meters and his full plate armor certainly giving a strong shock. But he ignored the others, directly unloading Liu Yuan's lordly seat from the chariot. This chair had been with him since Tyrosh. He carried the chair and placed it on the ground, adjusting its position to ensure it faced the Dothraki.

At this time, Liu Yuan also arrived, and everyone dismounted. Mistha stayed close to Liu Yuan's side, while the other three guards ran to help Grig move things. There were quite a few things prepared: tables, fruits, food, wine, and so on.

The Dothraki were also very individualistic. Bharbo led his horse to a spot not far from Liu Yuan, then patted its back. His warhorse lay down on its side, and Bharbo sat on the horse's belly. Liu Yuan smiled and naturally sat on his throne, the two facing each other. Two guards carried a low table and placed it in front of Bharbo Khal, the height surprisingly suitable.

Mistha introduced, "Respected Khal, this is my lord, Lord Galon, also the commander-in-chief of the Sun and Moon Legion."

Bharbo gazed at Liu Yuan's young face, and after a long while, he spoke, "You are the leader of this army? I didn't expect you to be so young."

Liu Yuan replied in fluent Dothraki, "I have also heard of the renowned Bharbo Khal; your valor has been sung throughout the Dothraki Sea. May I ask, what brings you here with your army today?"

Bharbo was somewhat surprised that Liu Yuan could speak Dothraki. He stared at Liu Yuan for a moment and said, "We were here first. According to the rules of the plains, this should be my pasture. It is your sudden appearance; shouldn't I be asking what you intend to do?"

Liu Yuan smiled and said, "I'm sorry, Bharbo Khal, but this is not the Dothraki Sea. You can't measure everything by your Dothraki rules." He pointed to the sea west of Pentos. "This is the territory of the Pentos city-state. According to the rules of civilized countries, I have the right to go where I want and do what I want. Besides, I need the harbors of Pentos."

Bharbo said coldly, "Are you reinforcements hired by Pentos? You should know that if you intervene in the conflict, you will face the fury of 15,000 Dothraki screamer warriors."

Liu Yuan shook his head and said, "We are just passing through. We never imagined we would meet the Khal here. Rest assured, we have no contractual relationship with Pentos. Moreover, as far as I know, the magisters of Pentos seem very willing to offer the Khal enough sincere gifts to maintain your friendship. But these are matters between you two. However, for the safety of me and my subordinates, I do not wish to see war break out here! Besides, my twenty thousand soldiers fear no threat!" Liu Yuan's attitude was clear: it would be best if we could coexist peacefully here. We are not hired thugs of Pentos, and we won't interfere with you reaping benefits here. But if you want to attack me, hehe, I have more men and I'm not afraid of you. If you're not convinced, come and try me.

The atmosphere on the field became somewhat stagnant, and the faces of several Dothraki were unpleasant. One of the bloodriders angrily stood up, but Bharbo grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down. He said, "Young man, you are very brave. Actually, I don't want to see war either, but we Dothraki have our pride. How about this: let's each send a few warriors to compete, and whoever wins, the other side will withdraw from here. What do you think?"

Liu Yuan laughed, "Hahaha~ Khal is indeed formidable! Alright, let's do that! Each side will send three people. Regardless of the outcome, I hope to become friends with your khalasar."

Bharbo also laughed, "Hahaha, I admire you more and more, young man. But be careful, according to our Dothraki tradition, duels are not limited to life and death. Barulu, you go first." He patted the bloodrider he had just held down. The man grinned, took out his arakh, twirled it in his hand a few times, then pointed with the blade at Grig, who was bored on the side. "You big guy, it's you! I challenge you."

Grig couldn't understand Dothraki at all, so he was idly daydreaming. Suddenly, he saw the barbarian pointing at him with a knife, babbling something he didn't understand. He looked at his boss in confusion.

Liu Yuan chuckled and said, "Hehe~ Grig! That warrior intends to challenge you. Are you willing to accept? Life and death are not guaranteed!"

Grig's eyes lit up when he heard this, and he grinned, revealing his white teeth in a simple, honest smile, though the smile was somewhat ferocious. His massive body, encased in full plate armor, swayed as he walked to the edge of the open space, even planting his long-handled battle-axe on the ground, and beckoned Barulu with his club-like fingers.

Come here! This gesture is universal. It has no offensive power, but it is extremely insulting.

Barulu's eyes turned red. In all his years, no one had ever dared to provoke him like this. He lowered his body, adopting a fighting stance, and charged towards Grig. Even in his anger, Barulu's rich combat experience allowed him to see that against such a large opponent, he had to attack his lower body first. This move was quite vicious, the arakh drawing an arc in the air, the curved blade slashing at Grig's left ankle.

Unexpectedly, Grig, this large man covered in heavy armor, reacted surprisingly quickly. He swiftly raised his foot four inches, then stomped down hard. The steel-clad war boot slammed onto the arakh, heavily embedding the blade into the dirt.

Then his left hand lashed out, backhanding Barulu across the face. The pitiful Barulu spun around twice, losing an unknown number of teeth.

In the blink of an eye, Grig turned around. Grinning, he grabbed Barulu's neck with his right hand, lifted him high, and then slammed him to the ground. The throw was powerful and heavy. With a "boom," the man was heavily smashed onto the ground. Blood foam overflowed from his mouth and nose, and the bones in his arms and neck were unnaturally twisted. It was clear he wouldn't survive.

Several Dothraki couldn't sit still. Bharbo shouted, "Everyone, sit down! This is a duel; do you want me to lose all face?!" He was also deeply saddened; that was his bloodrider, his "blood of my blood"! He didn't expect him to be killed instantly by the other side's bare hands.

Liu Yuan waved his hand and said, "Grig, come back. You were too heavy-handed. Who's next? The lord will reward the winner handsomely." The three guards were eager to try, but finally, Mistha stepped forward and said, "Lord, let me do it!" Seeing his lord nod in agreement, he removed his helmet and drew the Embroidered Spring Blade from his waist (actually, there is no essential difference between the Wild Goose Blade and the Embroidered Spring Blade. The Wild Goose Blade is the standard weapon in the Ming army. Only the Wild Goose Blade carefully crafted by outstanding artisans of the imperial court, with inscriptions and exquisite decorations on the blade, is called the Embroidered Spring Blade, and only those with status in the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Imperial Guards can wear it).

Another sturdy Dothraki man stood up, his right hand gripping his arakh tightly. His eyes were firm, without a trace of underestimation. He said, "My name is Samoca, a ko under Bharbo Khal. I will do my best next, be careful or you will die."

Mistha nodded and said, "I am Mistha, once a ko as well. Now I am a cavalry commander under Lord Galon..." Before he could finish speaking, a black shadow came at his face like lightning. Mistha reacted extremely quickly, quickly stepping back half a step and sidestepping. "Crack!" With a deafening sound like tearing the air, the black shadow was a long whip. Samoca had launched a sneak attack.

As Mistha turned, his left hand, which had been behind his back, lashed out forcefully, and a black shadow was also flung out. It turned out he had also prepared a long whip, but the other side had struck first while he was speaking. Samoca's left hand trembled, and the two long whips collided in mid-air, tangling together. For a moment, they were stuck. They both revealed ambiguous smiles, and then simultaneously released their whips and charged forward! Before the whips could land, the two had exchanged blows in mid-air.

After a brief retreat, they charged forward again. Both held a short knife, and the four weapons clashed again, stalemating in mid-air, then simultaneously kicked each other in the chest. Both used traditional Dothraki combat techniques, the routines were basically the same, and their strengths were evenly matched.

If they continued to fight like this, it would basically be a lose-lose situation, but one of them had armor. The two retreated at the same time. Samoca was kicked in the chest, feeling stuffy and his blood churning, while Mistha was fine, not hurting at all. He looked at the metal-gleaming war boots; it was too unfair.

Mistha also realized his advantage. Covered in heavy armor, he certainly couldn't match the other's speed, but as long as he engaged in head-on collisions, it would be advantageous to him. At this distance, the arakh couldn't exert its maximum slashing effect, and the dagger posed a greater threat to him. Moreover, not only was his armor sturdy, but his blade was also sharper than the other's. After continuous collisions, the arakh already had many irregular serrated notches.

The two exchanged more than thirty moves, and Samoca knew he couldn't continue like this; his stamina couldn't keep up. During another close-quarters entanglement, he abandoned his short knife. Twisting his body, rotating his hips, and leaping up, he gripped the arakh with both hands and slashed downwards forcefully. Mistha crossed his weapons in mid-air, blocking the blow, but the force was immense. He couldn't completely block it, and the blade became stuck between his shoulder armor and neck guard.

The sound of metal grinding, but it couldn't break through the armor. Mistha twisted his hands forcefully, and the already battered arakh immediately snapped into two pieces. His left-hand dagger also left a deep gash on Samoca's chest.

Samoca leaned back heavily, falling to the ground. Severely depleted of stamina, he had no resistance as that surge of energy dissipated. Mistha walked up to him with his knife, bent down, grabbed his braid, and brought the knife down.

Contrary to what everyone expected, Mistha only cut off his braid. Then he extended his hand to Samoca. In a daze, Samoca also grasped his hand and was pulled up. Mistha said, "Samoca, you are a respectable warrior. It's been a long time since I've met an opponent like you. But I've kept your hair; I'm going to weave it into my long whip. This is the best medicine for knife wounds; apply it to your wounds." Then he threw him a bottle of medicine.

Although Samoca had failed, he didn't feel frustrated. He had tried his best to fight. The other Dothraki also accepted this outcome. Bharbo Khal's face was not good, but he still stood up and said, "Chief Galon, you have won two victories. You have won this duel, and I and my khalasar will leave here."

"Wait!" A loud shout interrupted him. It was his son, Drogo. He stood up and said, "Father, although we have lost the duel, my honor as a warrior does not allow me to retreat like this. I demand another fight..." Then he pointed to Liu Yuan and said, "I challenge you. No matter the outcome, we Dothraki will keep our promise and withdraw from here."

Liu Yuan showed a bright smile, hehe, big brother, are you in such a hurry for a haircut?