Before Ba Tu could control his hand, the herd of horses neighed in horror, and his own horse seemed to have tripped over its leg. Batu rubbed his teary eyes and pointed the flashlight forward. In the light, a few big wolves squeezed together and jogged, blocking in front of his horse. The wolves did not hesitate to endure the trampling of the hooves to stop Batu's horse. Ba Tu turned around and saw that Shatslang was also blocked by the wolf. He was desperately controlling the frightened horse, and the wolf had already started to attack the person's mount. Batu hurriedly used the flashlight to shake Shatslang a few times, making him move closer to the front, but Shatslang's horse was so frightened that it kicked and stumbled, unable to move closer. A few big wolves took turns to chase and tear at Shac Leng's horse. The horse's body was covered in scratch marks, and the lower part of Shac Leng's fur robe was also torn off by the wolves. Shatzleng was so shocked that he didn't care about anything else. He threw away the horse pole that he couldn't use. He used the thick and long flashlight stick as a short weapon and swung it left and right at the wolves that pounced on him. The lamp was broken, the flashlight was deflated, and the wolf's head was broken, but it still could not stop the wolf's wheel battle. A big wolf finally bit off a piece of the horse's butt. The horse hissed in pain. It no longer dared to take the risk with its master. It bit the horse's chew iron, straightened its neck, lowered its head, and let go of its four hooves to escape in the southwest direction. Shacileng could no longer pull the horse's head. Seeing that they had chased away a person who was in their way, the wolves chased after him for a few steps before hurriedly turning around and killing their way back to the herd of horses.
At this moment, Ba Tu was the only one left in the horse herd. A small group of wolves immediately began to surround Ba Tu's horse. Ba Tu's Big Black Horse puffed out its nostrils, widened its eyes, and fiercely stomped, kicked, bit, and fought back with all its might, disregarding the wounds and bites. More and more wolves surrounded the Big Black Horse, charging forward and back, focusing their fangs on attacking the Big Black Horse. Ba Tu had fallen into such a dangerous situation. He knew that he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. He could only fight. Batu also threw away his precious horse pole. On the violently shaking horse, he used one hand to hold the front saddle bridge tightly, and the other hand quietly untied the iron horse pole tied to the saddle. He put the leather strip at the end of the horse pole on his wrist, and then held the horse pole in his hand. He steeled his heart and quickly transformed himself from a stable boy into a Mongolian warrior who was ready to die. He fought with the wolves to the death. He was prepared to use the ultimate skill and trick he had not used for a long time. His club was as long as a cavalry saber. It was a weapon passed down from his ancestors to fight and kill wolves, and Billig had passed it on to him. The tough body of the rod was as thick as a shovel handle, and the lower half was tightly wrapped in a wrought iron hoop. Black dirt remained in the gap of the iron hoop, which was the blood of wolves left behind by generations of wolves. A few big wolves took turns to pounce on the big black horse on both sides of the horse. This was the most advantageous position to use the horse club to hit the wolf. It was also the best opportunity for Batu to kill the wolf tonight. The key was to have the courage and accuracy.
Batu calmed down and quietly moved the light to the right. Then he raised the horse club above his head, looked for an opportunity, and swung his arm to smash the wolf's hardest but weakest and most fatal part-the wolf's fang. A huge wolf that had jumped up and bared its fangs and brandished its claws had four of its fangs broken by a horse club that was swung down. Batu's horse club had given the wolf a heart-wrenching pain and a loss that was greater than the heavens.
The big wolf fell to the snow, sucking the blood in its mouth. It raised its head and cried desperately. It was miserable, more painful than taking its life. In the ancient Mongolian steppe, to wolves, their fangs were equivalent to their lives. The most ferocious and sharp weapon of a wolf was its upper and lower fangs. Without the fangs, all the qualities, personalities and physical qualities of a wolf, such as bravery, strength, intelligence, cunningness, savagery, greed, arrogance, ambition, patience, alertness, vigilance, physical strength, endurance, etc., would be zero. In the Wolf World, wolves could survive even if they were blind in one eye, crippled in one leg, or missing two ears. However, if a wolf lost its fangs, it would be deprived of its power to rule the grassland, let alone a wolf that regarded killing as the most important thing. If a wolf lost its teeth, it would lose its sky. Wolves could no longer hunt their favorite animals, defend themselves against the attacks of hunting dogs and fight for their own kind, bite and cut, eat large chunks of meat, drink large mouthfuls of blood, and replenish their energy in the harsh grasslands in time. All its pride and ambition on the prairie, its status in the wolf pack, and the respect of its kind would all be gone. It could only live on at death's door for the time being. It could only live with a mouth and no teeth, watching the slaughter and feast of its own kind, swallowing everything it did not want to see. There was only one path left for it in the future-death, slowly becoming thin, freezing to death, starving to death, dying of anger, and dying of being a coward.
Batu, in the midst of the bloody wind of horses being torn apart one after another, wished he could use this poisonous method to kill half of the wolves and let the wolves taste the viciousness and cruelty of the prairie people. He took advantage of the time when the wolf had yet to react and saw an opportunity to strike again. He smashed down fiercely, but this time, he did not hit the wolf's fang. Instead, he hit the wolf's nose. The entire wolf's nose was lifted off its nose bone. The big wolf rolled down in the snow, and its entire body curled up into a wolf fur ball in pain. Ba Tu's wolf-killing skill and power, as well as the two big wolves 'mournful wails, immediately intimidated the wolves around Ba Tu. They suddenly woke up and no longer dared to pounce, but they still squeezed in front of Ba Tu's horse, preventing him from approaching the herd of horses.
Ba Tu repelled the attack of the wolves around him and looked at the horses in front of him. The big wolves that had attacked the horses had all gathered in front of the east side of the horses. They seemed to feel that time was tight, and at the same time, they felt that the wolves behind them had lost. The wolf pack let out a strange whimper that sounded like a wind blowing across a wire, filled with fear and impulse. Under the command of the wolf king, the wolf pack became ruthless and went crazy. The entire wolf pack staked everything on one shot. They used the most cruel, bloody, and unbelievable suicidal attack method of the Mongolian grassland wolves to launch the final group attack on the horse group. One by one, the big wolves, especially the female wolves who had lost their cubs, jumped up crazily and bit through the thinnest belly behind the horse's ribs. Then, they used their entire body weight as a pulling force and sacrificed the lower half of their bodies to hang heavily on the side of the horse's belly. This was an extremely dangerous position for both wolves and horses. To a wolf, hanging on the horse's side was like hanging on a death rack. When the horse ran, the wolf's lower body would be thrown to the side of the horse's hind legs. The frightened horse would kick the wolf's lower body with its hind hooves in order to get rid of the wolf. Once the kick hit, the wolf's bones would break and the skin would break. Only those wolves with sharp teeth and heavy bodies could tear open the horse's belly with their sharp teeth and body weight without borrowing strength, and then fall to the ground to save their lives. This poisonous move was even more dangerous for the horse. If it could not kick the wolf away, it would fall behind due to the weight and be surrounded by the wolves. If it kicked the wolf's body, but increased the tearing force of the wolf's body, its belly might be torn apart and it would die.
The slain horses and wolves that had committed suicide were trembling in despair.
Most of the wolves that were kicked off their horses were female wolves. They were lighter than male wolves and relied entirely on their own weight to hang themselves. It was difficult for them to tear open the horse's belly, so they could only risk their lives to borrow horse power. The female wolves were really risking their lives. All of them were eager for revenge and faced death unflinchingly. They looked at each other with all their might and blood blended together. They risked the danger of having their bellies, chests, liver, gallbladder, and breast split open by the hooves, and would rather die with the horses.
A starving male wolf whose abdomen had been broken by a horse's hoof and kicked off its horse was curled up in the snow, bared its teeth, and howled. However, it still struggled desperately with its two front legs, crawled towards the horse that had fallen to the ground, and bit and swallowed the whole horse. It would never give up its last chance. As long as its mouth and teeth were still there, it didn't care if it had a stomach or not, it would still swallow. The fresh horse meat was swallowed by the wolf and directly swallowed on the snow. A wolf without a belly capacity limit must be the greediest wolf in the world with the largest appetite. It must also be the wolf that swallowed the most horse meat at once. This was the wolf's last meal before its death.
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