Timur never expected that even though he used all his strength to defend against Zhuang Rui's attack, he still felt an overwhelming force coming from his right arm.
Before Timur could react, the enormous impact shattered all his defenses, and his massive arm crashed down, making the wooden table bang loudly.
quiet.
Quiet.
Utterly quiet.
When the results of the competition were announced, the scene was completely silent. Apart from the sounds of the campfire and firewood, it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
Those who were cheering and encouraging the crowd were holding their breath, watching in disbelief as what was happening on the field.
Apart from Peng Fei, no one could have imagined that the "thin" Zhuang Rui would actually defeat the "strong" Timur. It was as unbelievable as a sheep eating a wolf on the grassland.
Timur seemed a little out of it at this point. Looking at his forearm, which Zhuang Rui was pressing down on, he raised his head and asked blankly, "I...I lost?"
Timur actually lost?
"This...how is this possible?"
"Am I seeing things? Our warriors of the grasslands have actually lost?"
This result was quite unexpected. After Timur asked that question, the crowd erupted in commotion, and no one could believe what was happening.
"Timur, you have lost..."
Although Batel was also surprised, he reacted quickly and looked at Zhuang Rui, saying, "Brother Zhuang, how about... we have another match?"
Chapter 1130 The Competition (Part 2)
In this Mongol settlement, Batel was the strongest. Although he was not as muscular as Timur, Batel was recognized as the number one hero within a hundred miles.
When Batel first returned home, he represented Inner Mongolia in a competition in Outer Mongolia. He once defeated those who considered themselves direct descendants of Genghis Khan, and few could beat him even in a contest of strength. He became famous overnight.
However, due to the special nature of Batel's former unit, shortly after he participated in the competition, he was approached and a deal was reached. After returning, Batel never participated in similar activities again, but instead focused on raising horses and herding livestock on the grasslands.
"Battle, you have to win..."
"Isn't that obvious? When has Battier ever lost?"
"I never would have guessed that this tall and thin young man would have such great strength?"
"Don't worry, as long as Battier plays, we'll definitely win..."
Over the years, Batel has rarely stepped forward to wrestle or compete with others, so when Batel said he wanted to compete with Zhuang Rui again, the crowd, who had been somewhat dejected, immediately became excited.
Although Zhuang Rui was a hero for defeating Timur, the Mongolians watching were still somewhat displeased that their warrior had been defeated by an outsider. Now that Batel was stepping forward, they believed that Mongolia's number one warrior would surely reclaim the title of strongman.
"Fine, let's compete, Brother Batel. I'm no good at wrestling, let's compete in arm wrestling..."
Although Zhuang Rui was feeling a bit tipsy, he knew that wrestling wasn't just about strength. If he were to wrestle with Battul, he would be courting death.
"Okay, let's arm wrestle..."
Batel nodded, his face somewhat solemn. His eyesight was far superior to that of the Mongolians. The moment Zhuang Rui exerted his power, Batel had already seen that Zhuang Rui's explosive force was extremely strong.
However, Batel did not know that Zhuang Rui was not using explosive power at all. His own strength was terrifying. Timur's strength was not much different from that of a child in front of him.
As Zhuang Rui and Batel stood in front of the table, Peng Fei's voice rang out: "Old Batel, you just lost a good horse to me. What are you going to do if you lose again?"
Upon hearing this, Batel chuckled somewhat awkwardly and said, "Ahem, you'll get your horse, kid. If I lose, I'll give you another good horse..."
On the vast grasslands, there is no shortage of horses, and Batel's ranch itself has dozens of fine horses. He doesn't care at all about losing a few to his brothers, and besides, Batel doesn't think he will lose this round.
It's important to understand that people with strong explosive power often have weaker endurance. As long as Batel is well-prepared at the beginning and withstands Zhuang Rui's initial onslaught, he believes he will be the ultimate winner.
Peng Fei said with a wicked grin, "Alright, if you lose later, I'll have to choose the horse myself..."
When Peng Fei first met Batel earlier today, he noticed the chestnut-red horse behind him.
"Hmm, no, you can pick anything except Crimson Blood..."
Upon hearing Peng Fei's words, Batel's expression changed immediately. It was clear that he truly adored the horse named Crimson Blood.
"Hey, what am I doing? Win first, then we'll talk. By the way, Brother Zhuang, you already had a match, so let's have a left-handed match now..."
Batel chuckled self-deprecatingly, wondering when he had become so insecure, already thinking about losing before even starting the competition.
Since Zhuang Rui had just had a match, and Batel hadn't taken advantage of him, he suggested a left-handed match. Zhuang Rui nodded indifferently and said, "Okay, left hand it is..."
This time, without Peng Fei's interruption, Zhuang Rui and Battelle each stood on one side of the table, their left hands clasped tightly together.
"Brother Batel, keep it up..."
"Battle, you have to win..."
"Go for it, Brother Zhuang..."
Wrestling, horse racing, and arm wrestling are all sports that can accelerate the secretion of hormones in men's bodies. However, the cheers in the arena were clearly louder for Battelle than for Zhuang Rui, since Battelle was playing on home turf.
"Brother Zhuang, be careful..."
After his father called for the start, Batel smiled slightly and suddenly exerted force in his hand, with veins bulging on his forearm. Batel wanted to test whether he could defeat Zhuang Rui with his explosive power.
To Batel's disappointment, despite his almost full strength, Zhuang Rui's left hand and forearm remained completely still, and his force was silently neutralized by Zhuang Rui.
Batel was startled. He now understood that Zhuang Rui had not won against Timur with his extraordinary explosive power, but rather that Zhuang Rui's strength was inherently remarkable.
After figuring out the key point, Batel took a deep breath and put all his strength into his left forearm, but he was not going to attack but defend.
"Brother Batel, I'm about to unleash my power..."
Zhuang Rui said something casually, but Batel didn't dare to reply. He was in the same situation as Timur just now, having been overwhelmed by Zhuang Rui's aura.
Batel clearly felt a tremendous force coming from Zhuang Rui's left hand as he spoke, but Batel was prepared. He strained his face and used all his strength to deflect the attack.
At this point, no one in the crowd cheered for Battier anymore, because the difference in their facial expressions—one flushed red, the other remaining expressionless—had already revealed the difference in their abilities.
The changes on the scene proved everyone's judgment correct. Although Battul was struggling to hold on, his left forearm was still tilting outwards, and Battul's right hand had unconsciously been supporting himself on the table.
Actually, according to the rules of arm wrestling, this was a foul, but Zhuang Rui didn't understand, Battulga didn't do it on purpose, and no one paid any attention, which allowed Battulga to slightly regain the upper hand.
But to Batel's despair, just as he was preparing to increase his strength and keep the game at a 50/50, Zhuang Rui's left hand suddenly emitted a tremendous force like a raging torrent.
The force was so great that it made Batel feel powerless, and it destroyed Batel's defenses with overwhelming force.
After a loud thud, both forearms were placed flat on the table, with Zhuang Rui's left arm on top.
"This...how is this possible?"
"Brother Batel lost too, this...this is impossible..."
"Who exactly is this young man? Why does he have such great strength?"
"He must be a reincarnation of a living Buddha; this is a miracle..."
Zhuang Rui's performance shocked the entire gathering place, because even those who hadn't come to the banquet had gathered to watch their match, and now hundreds of people had gathered inside and outside the arena.
The defeat of the invincible Batel was hard for people to accept. Some even described Zhuang Rui as a reincarnation of a living Buddha, as this seemed to be the only explanation for such a thing.
"I lost..."
Compared to his own people, Batel's expression was very calm. In fact, when his first attempt failed, he had already anticipated this outcome.
Suddenly, Batel grabbed Zhuang Rui's right hand with his right hand, raised it high, and shouted, "I lost! I lost to my brother's elder brother! Tell me, isn't Brother Zhuang a hero?"
The reason he's not using his left hand is because Battulga's left hand is currently trembling from overexertion.
"A true hero, Brother Zhuang is a true hero..."
"Well done, Brother Zhuang! Brother Batel is a true hero too..."
"Brother Zhuang is a true hero..."
"On the vast grassland, a good brother has arrived. He is so brave and so handsome..."
As soon as Batel finished speaking, a chorus of praises erupted. Although Zhuang Rui had won the title of the first warrior in their tribe, the Mongols, who naturally admired the strong, did not harbor any hostility towards Zhuang Rui. On the contrary, their attitude became even more enthusiastic.
Even more impressively, the talented Mongolian girls spontaneously composed songs on the spot, dancing and singing around the bonfire, bringing the atmosphere to a climax.
Batel took Zhuang Rui's hand and walked back to the low table by the campfire. He picked up a bowl of wine and said, "Brother Zhuang, I misjudged you. Let me drink this bowl of wine as a sign of my apology..."
Listening to the rhythmic singing of the Mongolians, Zhuang Rui was also filled with enthusiasm. He picked up a bowl of wine and said, "Brother Batel, you are an eagle of the grasslands and a true hero. I'll drink a bowl with you..."
Peng Fei, standing to the side, was dumbfounded. Having known Zhuang Rui for several years, he had always seen him as gentle, refined, reserved, and humble. Peng Fei never expected Zhuang Rui to have such a bold and unrestrained side.
After downing that bowl of wine, Zhuang Rui's face was almost as red as a monkey's bottom. His eyes glazed over with drunkenness as he said, "Our Mongolian brothers are all fine men, let's drink some more..."
Although Batel had a good capacity for alcohol, he was already swaying after drinking a bowl of strong liquor. He had lost to Zhuang Rui in strength, but he couldn't lose in drinking, so he downed another bowl with Zhuang Rui.
After downing that bowl of wine, Batel was completely out of commission. He slid off the table, his body wobbling. But this was Mongolian territory, and immediately four or five more people came up with bowls of wine to toast Zhuang Rui.
"Brother Zhuang, you've had too much to drink, why don't you go and rest?"
Peng Fei kindly helped Zhuang Rui out.
“Go on, I’m not drunk. Come on, Brother Timur, bottoms up…”
Zhuang Rui, already quite drunk, accepted all offers of wine. After downing three more bowls, he finally collapsed to the ground. As Peng Fei carried him back to the yurt, he kept muttering, "I'm not drunk."
Chapter 1131 The Precious Sword
In his sleep, Zhuang Rui seemed to be back in the vast desert, trekking under the scorching sun. His lips were so dry they were almost cracked, and he couldn't help but groan, "Thirsty, I'm dying of thirst..."
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhuang Rui felt a bit of moisture on his lips. He reached out with both hands, picked up the bowl of water that was being offered to his mouth, and gulped it all down.
"Huh? You...who are you?"
After smacking his lips, Zhuang Rui finally opened his eyes, only to find a little girl squatting beside him, frowning and looking at him with her bright eyes.
"My name is Wuyun Qiqige, and Batel is my older brother. So you beat my older brother?"
The little girl was only fifteen or sixteen years old. She was dressed in traditional Mongolian clothing, with many small braids in her hair and a faint blush on her face from the high altitude.
Wu Yunqiqige had been observing Zhuang Rui for a long time, but she couldn't see how this mainlander looked like a hero, or how he could win against her invincible older brother.
However, many brothers and uncles came to visit Zhuang Rui early in the morning, and her father repeatedly told her to take good care of Zhuang Rui, as he was the most honored guest in the family.
So even though the little girl was very dissatisfied with Zhuang Rui, she still dutifully stayed by his side.