Chapter 238 - 153: You Will Have to Endure Some Hardships Too (Part 3)

"Get lost!" The warrior waved his hand, pushing her roughly to the ground. The iron pot was lifted, and the scalding soup splashed everywhere, burning the shepherd’s leg, causing him to gasp in pain.

"You bandits!" The shepherd roared, fists clenched, but dared not approach.

The warrior gave him a cold glance, carrying the iron pot out of the tent with brisk steps, leaving a remark without looking back.

"For the Khan’s order, for the future of Turkic, what does this sacrifice count for!"

After speaking, they had already taken away the pot along with the food.

The shepherd looked at the empty fire pit, his fist pounding the ground fiercely. His wife sat on the ground, sobbing softly.

"Ever since Bo Lu became Khan, life has been unlivable." The shepherd murmured resentfully, his eyes filled with despair.

For over half a month, such scenes have been simultaneously unfolding on different parts of the grassland.

Since the Turkic blacksmith Mudu imitated and crafted the bullet heads of handguns, the newly appointed Bo Lu Khan believed he owned the world’s most powerful weapon.

Thus, Bo Lu ordered Mudu to mass-produce bullet heads to defeat the Da Jing Dynasty.

But the grassland inherently lacked iron resources, so Bo Lu ordered the collection of all the iron wares from the royal court’s tribes.

Whether curved knives, iron halberds, or iron pots and iron kettles, as long as it’s iron, they were all confiscated. Everything melted down to create bullet heads.

Thus, after working intensely for over half a month, many bullet heads were indeed crafted, and the bullet heads in Bo Lu Khan and Princess Yujia’s tent had already piled into small mountains.

But the problem was that the entire Turkic still hadn’t found the method to launch the ’peanut’ bullets.

Turkic warriors practiced every day throwing bullet heads by hand, or shooting them with arrows, or slingshots. They couldn’t find any other methods.

At dusk, the sunset was like blood, staining the entire sky over the grassland.

In Bo Lu Khan’s tent, the burning candlelight on the table illuminated Bo Lu’s furrowed brows, the atmosphere heavy.

He sat on the tiger skin-covered throne, playing with a freshly crafted "peanut," a hint of anxiety and reluctance in his eyes.

Inside the tent, several tribal leaders were lined on both sides, each with different expressions.

Some bowed their heads in contemplation, some wore anxious looks, sighing, and others clenched their fists, seemingly angry at the predicament before them.

"Khan," an elder leader broke the silence, his voice deep and hoarse.

"We have collected all the ironware, crafted countless ’peanuts,’ but... without finding a launch method, these lumps of iron are nothing but scrap metal."

Bo Lu lifted his head, his gaze as sharp as a falcon, sweeping over everyone present.

He slowly began speaking, a tone of authority, yet tinged with the helplessness of someone on a higher rung being struck down.

"Ah! Are our Turkic warriors only able to shoot these ’peanuts’ with slingshots? Are we really unable to find a launch method?"

"Khan, we have tried every conceivable method. Shooting with arrows, slingshots, even catapults, but these ’peanuts’ cannot, as we saw, precisely kill the enemy. No matter how valiant our warriors are, they cannot shoot these lumps of iron over greater distances."

The speaker was Bujia, a subordinate under former General Alpi. He had twice witnessed the killing scene with ’peanuts,’ which was simply neat and clean, aiming at where it hit, powerful and relentless.

But over these days, supervising the warriors’ training daily, the result before his eyes was completely opposite.

The tent plunged into silence again, only the occasional sighs from the tribal leaders breaking it.

Bo Lu’s fingers unconsciously fumbled the beast skin on the throne, his gaze gradually deepening.

Moments later, as if making some major decision, he suddenly stood up.

"Since this is the case, we cannot continue wasting time like this. The Da Jing Dynasty is growing stronger by the day, those ’peanuts’ will sooner or later be aimed at us. If we still cannot find a countermeasure, Turkic will face a catastrophe."

"Khan, do you mean..." the elder leader probed.

Bo Lu took a deep breath, speaking slowly, suppressing the pain in his heart.

"As of now, we can only temporarily show weakness to the Da Jing Dynasty to buy time for rejuvenation. With enough time, only then can we find a way to counter them."

"Show weakness?" A young leader abruptly stood up, his face full of anger and unwillingness, "Khan, we Turkic people never bow to the enemy! We’d rather die fighting than humiliate ourselves seeking peace!"