Usurping the Mongols: My Father-in-Law is Genghis Khan

“Enemy attack!”

“The plainsmen are here to kill us!”

“They're courting death!”

“Kill them all!”

...

Zhao Shuo's sneak attack initially yielded good results, successfully breaching the Tumad's mountain stronghold. However, these brave and battle-hardened children of the forest quickly reacted and mounted a swift resistance.

They seemed to emerge from the earth and trees like ghosts, agile and swift. Some quickly hid in the surrounding wooden buildings, while others nimbly climbed the towering trees preserved within the camp. Some even burrowed into pre-dug tree hollows specifically designed to defend against external enemies. The burls of those fir trees were actually camouflaged loopholes!

Dozens of powerful Tumad warriors even seized dozens of leather ropes and swooped down from the giant trees like mountain goblins, unfurling their exquisite and powerful osage orange longbows as they swung.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh~

Arrows unique to the Tumad people, capable of piercing rattan armor, rained down on the Mongol soldiers from all directions, cunningly, accurately, and swiftly.

Of course, the Mongol soldiers were no pushovers either. Their archery skills might not have been inferior to the Tumad, and their prowess in close combat on open ground even surpassed them. They simply lacked the agility to leap and bound through the mountains like the Tumad. Moreover, the Mongol soldiers had their trump card – the fire蒺藜 obtained from the Western Xia!

“Release the fire蒺藜!”

Boom, boom, boom!

One fire蒺藜 after another was ignited and launched, in a straightforward and brutal manner, towards the Tumad's wooden buildings, giant trees, and every Tumad daring to attack the Mongols!

The thick smoke severely hampered the Tumad's vision, and the pressure on the Mongol soldiers was suddenly reduced.

The small buildings built of oily pine wood, with thick, sun-dried birch bark on top, were the best kindling!

The burning of the pine buildings quickly ignited the adjacent towering trees.

Soon, the entire Tumad mountain stronghold was filled with billowing smoke and raging flames.

“Despicable, shameless!”

“The plainsmen dare to set fire! This is a desecration of the great Mountain God!”

“Get out! Don't stay in the wooden buildings, you'll be burned to death!”

“Fight them to the death!”

...

Forced to abandon their greatest advantage, the Tumad people rushed out of their hiding places, engaging the plainsmen with their scimitars and bows, and quickly fell into a disadvantage.

After all, besides being slightly inferior in martial arts, the impoverished Tumad people did not possess the iron armor and swift blades from the Central Plains.

“Where is Tarhun? Capture Tarhun alive!”

...

The plains warriors fought more and more bravely, their shouts of killing like thunder, and the Tumad people retreated steadily.

Zhao Shuo, clad in gold-lacquered iron armor, did not participate in the fighting. He merely coordinated his forces, directing the battle, while vigilantly watching the movements around him.

The death of Borhu could not be ignored.

The Tumad people possessed the Wuteng Bow, renowned for its sniping capabilities!

And the most valuable sniping target on the scene was Zhao Shuo himself!

Zhao Shuo intended to use himself as bait, to overturn the Tumad's biggest trump card!

“Here it comes!”

Zhao Shuo suddenly sensed a menacing wind from his left rear, and immediately jumped to the side alertly. At the same time, with a swift movement, he caught a strange long arrow.

The shaft was made of five-year-old red willow wood, with annular counterweight patterns painted with horsehair dipped in wolf blood. The three-edged iron arrowhead was two and a half inches long, with spiral blood grooves. The strange blue-gray stripes after the arrowhead was quenched indicated that it was no ordinary product.

Iron-spined arrow!

The dedicated long arrow for the Wuteng Bow!

Borhu had died from this kind of arrow.

To guard against this divine arrow, Zhao Shuo had even specially ordered his blacksmith to forge a steel neck guard.

However, perhaps the strength of the archer was insufficient, not only did Zhao Shuo's prepared neck guard not come into play, but the arrow shaft was grabbed!

‘I've found you!’

Zhao Shuo looked in the direction from which the iron-spined arrow had been shot, and saw a red figure about two hundred and thirty paces away, holding a longbow and nimbly leaping to the side, and could not help but let out a cold laugh.

“Kill!”

Holding the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow Blade, his steps were as swift as thunder, and he fiercely charged towards the red figure.

“Protect the consort!”

Hedahe Batu led one hundred and fifty guards, closely following behind.

From time to time, ten people would suddenly stop and shoot ten Sucha arrows towards the red figure, and then quickly catch up.

The shaft of the Sucha arrow was only two feet long, and the arrowhead was sharpened into a thin cone. In conjunction with thumb archery, the range was almost two hundred paces. It was usually used for hunting or attacking enemies at long range. The almost simultaneous firing of ten Sucha arrows was enough to prevent the red figure from daring to stop and counterattack!

“Catch her!”

Without Zhao Shuo speaking, Subutai and Jebe also led a team of Mongol soldiers, flanking the red figure from both wings.

Soon, the crowd blocked the red figure in front of a wooden house.

“Don't come over!”

The woman in red held a bow in her left hand and a torch high in her right, and shouted loudly: “Huorchi and Huhuduh are inside the wooden house, and it's filled with oil. At worst, we'll die together!”

“You must be Lady Tarhun?”

“That's right, it's me.”

Standing in the sunlight, Tarhun's figure was as dazzling as a burning flame.

This woman was probably around thirty years old, the most charming age for a woman.

A blood-red, close-fitting hunting outfit enveloped her slender and athletic figure, outlining her panther-like curves to the fullest.

Raven-like black hair fluttered gently in the wind, like night falling on her shoulders, setting off her fairer skin.

The golden sunlight fell on her face, outlining her delicate and aloof features. Slanting eyebrows pressed down on a pair of amber pupils, and the depths of those pupils swam with the unique green of the forest. The bridge of her nose was as straight as a bow, but slightly upturned at the tip, revealing a few wild and unruly traits.

This was a breathtaking beauty, and one with barbs, like the taimen swimming against the current under the ice of Lake Baikal.

No wonder Huorchi, who had always been lecherous but not very brave, had committed such a catastrophe for her.

A beauty that brings disaster, nothing more than this.

Zhao Shuo glanced at her and said coldly:

“Lady Tarhun, you captured Huorchi and Huhuduh, but you didn't hurt them, so you must have your reasons. But why did you dare to kill Borhu so boldly, and forge a deadly feud with us Mongols?”

Zhao Shuo first gave Hedahe Batu beside him a look, and then slowly approached Tarhun while speaking.

“I didn't want to.” Tarhun had regretted the scene of shooting Borhu countless times, and replied eagerly: “The target of that arrow was Borhu's left arm, I wanted to capture him alive! But, just as the arrow was fired, he turned his body, hitting him in the neck, it was the Mountain God who wanted to leave his life, not me... Don't come over, ah!”

While Zhao Shuo was attracting Tarhun's attention, Hedahe Batu quietly took over the stringed divine arm crossbow handed over from behind.

The arrow shot out like lightning, hitting the outside of Tarhun's calf, instantly cutting a half-inch deep wound!

And it was at this moment that Zhao Shuo was like an arrow from a bow, crossing the distance between him and Tarhun with a few agile leaps, and pounced in front of Tarhun.

With a stretch of his arms, he pounced her firmly to the ground like a tiger.

At the same time, one of his big hands quickly and accurately pinched Tarhun's neck.

“Don't move!”

Zhao Shuo growled, his voice low and powerful, with a ruthless force, like a command from his mouth. Every word was as hard as cold iron, with a kind of irresistible deterrent.

“Kill me!”

Two lines of clear tears slid down the cheeks of the pretty widow, falling on Zhao Shuo's hands, warm and moist.