On the battlefield, the mocking laughter of the Alien Race Monarch was still echoing inside the Golden Tent.
Like a loud slap, it landed across Shuchi's self-important face.
He forced down the fire in his chest, his tone chilling: "Whether it's the Wusun Shaman or the Kuokuochu Shaman who makes a move, I want that bearded dog to stop barking this instant."
Shuchi knew that the Mana of Kuokuochu, that Heaven-Connecting Shaman, far surpassed that of the current "Beiqi" Wusun Shaman.
But it was rare that he ever had to ask the other man for anything.
If the Wusun Shaman was a blade not so sharp but easy to control, then Kuokuochu was a vicious edge that might bite its master at any moment. What Shuchi sought to build was his own Shuchi Wulus, not to erect a theocracy for Kuokuochu.
In the end, it was Kuokuochu who made the move.
The Wusun Shaman took his place in the Golden Tent, sitting in town to protect Shuchi's safety.
"That's far enough, Losa Khan."
