Summoning from Another World: A Grand Ambition

In front of the felt tent, Mu Yun Ling Yuan was already waiting with a pot of strong mare's milk wine warmed by the charcoal fire.

As the morning light gradually brightened, it elongated his dark figure. When he saw the three return, his face did not show the dejection he had imagined. Instead, his eyes were clear and his aura was calm. He felt gratified, but he did not mention the victory or defeat on his face. He simply walked quickly to meet them.

He personally filled three rough earthenware bowls with warm wine and handed them to the three men.

The aroma of alcohol mingled with the scent of milk, spreading warmth in the cool air.

Mu Yun Lingyuan's gaze swept over the Golden Roc's still-fighting face, the Green Lion's eyes still filled with awe, and the White Elephant's calm yet thoughtful expression. Finally, he picked up the bowl of wine in front of him, his tone calm and sincere, like a stream that had flowed across the grasslands for thousands of years:

"The wine is still warm, let's warm ourselves up first." He paused, his voice low but each word clear.

"Today's competition, whether we win or lose, is nothing more than a cup of wine. Once drunk, it will transform into brotherhood and mutual encouragement."

"It is the greatest fortune of my life that I, Mu Yun Ling Yuan, have met three heroes who are loyal to me and willing to entrust their lives to me amidst the snow and wind of the northern frontier."

Jin Peng gripped the warm wine bowl tightly, his fingers tightening slightly. His throat tightened, and he said in a muffled voice, "Brother Ling Yuan, the three of us lost to one of us. We've embarrassed you..."

"What's shameful about it?" Mu Yunling interrupted him, his eyes as clear as a mirror.

"The eagles of the grasslands are never judged by the height of a single flap of their wings. What I value is that you, knowing Cangye's prowess, still dared to stand up against him without hesitation for the sake of brotherhood and the path you believed in."

This courage, this sincerity, is far more precious than winning a hundred duels.

He raised his wine bowl, his voice suddenly rising, carrying the unique boldness and unwavering determination of a man from the grasslands:

"I, Mu Yun Lingyuan, hereby declare that from this day forward, no matter what lies ahead—whether it be a magnificent royal tent or a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire, whether it be calm seas or a storm of blood and gore—I will stand shoulder to shoulder with my three brothers, advancing and retreating together!"

"We'll share the good times and the bad! As long as I, Mu Yun Ling Yuan, have a breath left, I will never let my brothers risk their lives alone! This vow is witnessed by heaven and earth, and proclaimed by the sun and moon!"

These words contained no flowery language, no empty promises, only the simplest yet most profound sense of responsibility and affection.

It struck the softest and most passionate part of Jin Peng and his two companions' hearts like a heavy hammer.

Jin Peng suddenly tilted his head back and downed the bowl of strong liquor in one gulp. The scalding liquid burned his throat, but it also dispelled all the pent-up emotions in his chest. His eyes instantly shone with a light brighter than the morning sun.

He slammed the empty bowl down on the wooden stake beside him, then burst into loud laughter that shook the snow.

"Good! Well said! Brother Lingyuan, from this day forward, I, Jinpeng, entrust my life to you! Your enemies are my enemies! Your great cause is my great cause! I will face any danger, even mountains of knives and seas of fire!"

"I'll follow you!" Green Lion followed closely behind, drinking the wine in his bowl in one gulp, his voice resolute, as if making a vow.

Bai Xiang solemnly raised his bowl, drank it all in one gulp, and then showed the bottom of the bowl to Mu Yun Ling Yuan, saying calmly, "Walking side by side, never leaving each other."

The four wine bowls collided in mid-air once more, but the sound was no longer the excited, crisp sound before the duel; instead, it was a deep, resonant sound like iron and stone clashing.

The rich aroma of mare's milk wine permeated the air, mingling with the unspoken trust and reliance between men, forging a bond of friendship stronger than any covenant in the chilly morning winds of the northern lands.

.........

Time flows like water, passing silently. In the blink of an eye, the dawn of the three-day deadline has arrived.

Before dawn, the entrance to "Broken Wind Valley" on the west side of the Hu tribe's royal court was already a scene of both solemnity and bustling activity.

The cold wind was still biting, but it couldn't dispel the lingering aura of iron and blood in the air.

The "Silver Moon Eighteen Riders" were all present. They were dressed in uniform matte black light armor, with matching cloaks over them. Their faces were covered with black masking plates that concealed their mouths and noses, revealing only pairs of cold and sharp eyes.

The warhorses were all fine northern steeds with black manes, and horn bows, quivers and long, narrow scimitars were hanging from the sides of the saddles.

The eighteen men stood silently in two rows, both men and horses seemingly blending into the still lingering night. Only their breath condensed in the cold air, revealing them as living warriors.

Commander Yinyuechuan, a lithe and sharp-eyed young man, was silently inspecting the horseshoes and saddle of the last warhorse.

Tai Chu Cang Ye was still clad in black armor, holding the Azure Dragon Netherworld Halberd, standing beside Mu Yun Ling Yuan's warhorse.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, seemingly isolated from the busyness around him, but he could not escape the perception of any unusual fluctuations.

Wang Meng had changed into a dark gray cotton robe suitable for cycling, with a windproof leather jacket over it. He was quietly checking the terrain and water conditions for the last leg of the journey with a Hu ethnic guide, his brows showing his usual caution and thoroughness.

Jinpeng, Qingshi, and Baixiang were also fully armed.

Each of the three led a group of their personal attendants, forming a small but elite mixed force that was distinct from, yet subtly coordinated with, the Silver Moon Eighteen Riders.

Further away was the 3,000-strong advance team dispatched by Guli Khan. They were responsible for clearing the way and escorting the troops to the pass. They were a dark mass, with gleaming armor, swords and spears standing tall, and an aura of killing intent soaring into the sky.

Mu Yunlingyuan stood before his warhorse, personally combing the long mane on the side of the magnificent black steed's neck.

Today he changed into a more streamlined black outfit, with a silver fox fur cloak over it, and the inconspicuous old iron sword at his waist. He kept the wooden bookmark and the silver mandala hairpin close to his body in his arms.

My fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of the bookmark, feeling its familiar, warm texture.

Just then, a soft but rapid sound of footsteps in the snow came from afar.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a slender figure in moon white walking quickly from the direction of the royal court. Dozens of steps behind her were two submissive Hu maids.

It is a mandala.

She wasn't dressed in elaborate costumes today, but rather in a neat, moon-white Hu ethnic riding and archery uniform with narrow sleeves and a fitted waist, making it easy for her to move around.

Her long, jet-black hair was simply braided into a thick braid that hung down her back.

She carried a plain blue cotton bundle in her hand, her steps light yet carrying a hint of imperceptible urgency. Her fair cheeks were flushed slightly from the brisk walking and the cold, and her clear almond-shaped eyes looked straight ahead at Mu Yun Lingyuan, who was standing in front of her horse, past the crowd.

She walked closer, first nodding slightly to Wang Meng, Jin Peng and the others, then lingering briefly on Tai Chu Cangye with a complex respect before quickly approaching Mu Yun Lingyuan.

"Ling Yuan," she called softly, her voice slightly swaying in the morning breeze, yet she tried to remain steady.

She looked up at him, her eyes revealing a deep, barely concealed worry and reluctance, like a frozen lake about to thaw, its surface calm but its depths turbulent.

She handed him the plain cloth bundle, her fingers turning slightly white from gripping it so tightly.

"Inside... are some things I've been rushing to make these past two days. A pair of leather wristbands with thick fleece lining, which will protect your wrist joints in the strong winds of the grasslands at night. There are also several bags of roasted barley rice, mixed with dried meat and salt, which can be eaten after just adding hot water. In addition, there are some dried milk cakes and cheese, which are durable and can be eaten if you can't find hot food on the road."

She paused, her gaze sweeping carefully over his entire body, as if trying to etch his image into her heart. Her voice lowered, yet each word was clear, filled with unmistakable concern:

"The road back east is long and cold. It involves crossing mountains and rivers, enduring wind, frost, snow, and rain... You must be careful in everything you do."

Remember to eat on time, add or remove clothing as needed, and choose a sheltered, dry spot for your campsite at night… Also, no matter what happens, never forget that here in Alakazam… there are always people hoping for your safety.”

She didn't say anything sentimental like "I'll wait for you," nor did she cry like a little girl.

With the simplest of instructions and the most practical of care, she sewed all her worries and feelings into the wristband, into the rice, dried them in the milk cake, and melted them into these few words.