The entire encampment of Jebe suddenly became a boiling cauldron, then quickly fell into a near-suffocating awe and solemnity.
All the cavalry, regardless of which tribe they originally belonged to, hurriedly mounted their horses and quickly formed a rough formation in front of the camp, bowing their heads, not daring to look directly at the sweeping might of the heavens.
Temujin charged ahead alone, rushing straight to where Jebe and the others were, then suddenly reined in his warhorse.
The magnificent black warhorse reared up, letting out a shrill neigh, while Temujin sat steadily on the horseback, his stature as unmoving as a mountain.
His gaze like lightning swept over the slightly disordered camp, piled-up goods, he neither dismounted immediately nor reprimanded, but merely nodded slightly toward Jebe: "I received the message you sent."
"It's not too late."
