Chapter 201: Nazumang's Glory and the Commander of the Marrow Seal City

Even if it was the Glory of Nazumang, it would still be difficult for one person to face dozens of people. After all, he was still a mortal, but this did not prevent him from being a hero.

However, when seeing Quesanti lose consciousness, the audience in front of the screen were not too worried about it. The same was true in Quesanti's heart. It was only after seeing Tupe that his nervousness relaxed.

What everyone would like to see more is his reunion with Tupe. They haven't seen each other since Tupe left Nazumang, and many years have passed.

When Kuisang came to remind him, he was lying on a wooden bed, covered with a soft blanket. He stroked the green strands, feeling the soft and strong fibers - a unique mark of the marrow seal weaving method.

The tent shielded him from the heat of the sun, but he could clearly hear the bustle of the camp outside, the sound of forging iron, the sound of forging steel - it reminded him of his own weapons.

Quesanti took a quick look around and breathed a sigh of relief. His two axes had been completely restored, polished and cleaned, and were leaning against the bedpost.

He looked closely at the python-lion pattern that showed up on the side, which he had carved and painted based on Tupe's previous drawings. He suddenly wondered if Tupe had noticed it.

If he saw it, would he say anything? What if Tupe had any ideas? After all, it was many years ago. Quesanti tried to remember, how many years?

"Two whole days." A voice came, "You slept like a pangolin." Tupe, wearing the green and gold double-color smock of the Marrow Indians, was standing at the door of Quesanti's tent with his arms crossed. Facing his smile, Quesanti also smiled slightly.

"Not wearing a mask today?" Quesanti asked as he supported himself and sat up.

"Don't I know you? If I hadn't been wearing a mask, you would never have let me get involved."

Quesanti took a deep breath and tried to retort, but he just closed his mouth and sighed. Although he had been trying to control his temper recently, he had to admit that what he said was not entirely wrong.

"News spreads quickly." Tupe continued, "In the past few months, the power of the Ascended has been expanding southward. I estimated that they would reach the prairie. I also expected that Nazumang would send elite troops. But I didn't expect to meet you. You are alone. Against more than twenty enemies."

"I think I can handle it." Quesan got up from the bed. He grabbed his armor from beside his weapons, groaned, and put it on. Every part of his body was in pain.

"Of course you can." Tupe cursed inwardly. "Why should I bother to take people there?" He shook his head. "Okay, since you can get down to the ground, you can definitely get to the table. How about you thank me while you eat lunch? I can't let the glory of Nazumang go home hungry."

Quisanti followed Tupe out of the tent cautiously. The spacious camp came into view. Warriors were either practicing swords or maintaining bowstrings. There were also a few familiar faces among them, members of the team that followed Tupe to rescue him. Nearby, the cooks were stirring several large cast iron pots. Quisanti smelled a warm and familiar smell: cassava, yam and oats. Another aroma wafted over, it was rice mixed with tomatoes, onions, goat meat and peppers.

Tupe dragged two chairs to the ends of an empty table. A young man in large armor came quickly with a cup in his hand.

"Coconut milk wine?" Tupe suggested.

Quesanti was a little tempted. This was his favorite wine from his hometown. But he refused. He had to keep a clear mind to deal with the conversation that was about to begin. "Water," he replied, "please."

Tupe smiled and glanced at the attendant. "As he orders."

The young man walked away quickly.

"So," Quesanti asked, "what do your men call you?"

"Most of the time, I call you King or Sir," Tupe said expressionlessly. Quesanti hesitated. Tupe slammed the table and laughed. "Just kidding! After all these years, do you still think I would declare myself king, like those crazy people who ascended to heaven?"

"I can't believe how your aunt will teach you." Quesanti said. "Oh, she will definitely kick me out of the house." Tupe said confidently, "And in front of everyone. That way, we won't bring shame to our ancestors." He imitated his aunt's voice.

Quesanti laughed out loud.

"This is no joke." Tupe laughed along and said, "Your parents are the same."

The servant returned with two full plates, and Tupe poured a glass of water for Quesanti and himself. Quesanti's stomach growled the moment he saw the chili rice. The rice grains were dyed bright orange by the chili, and the spicy heat could not stop coming out.

"Come," said Tupe, "all you can eat."

As he ate, Quesanti looked around Tupe and the surrounding camp. Everyone seemed happy here, even in the middle of a war. A group of people nearby were taking turns telling stories of the battlefield, and laughter could be heard from time to time. People of all kinds were coming and going. The atmosphere was hurried and orderly, but whenever Tupe asked for another round of food and water, his men would do it without complaint.

"It seems that your original wish has come true." Quesanti said slowly.

Tupe took a sip of his wine and raised a hand to sweep across the camp. "Yes, leading a group of fools who followed me. So far, no one has tried to rebel. Can you believe it?"

"You are so stubborn, who dares to rebel?"

"How can a cheetah make fun of a leopard for having too many spots?"

Both men smiled. Quesanti noticed that Tupe's face had become rougher and more angular - marks left by age and scars. Was it new? Or had he not noticed it before? Quesanti was searching for something. Anger, sadness, pain? His body was stiff with guilt. He continued to stuff his food into his mouth, his eyes darting around, the noise of the camp filling the silence between their conversations.

"Commander," Tupe said. "They should call me Commander. But I don't like it, so I ordered them not to call me that."

"At least your name is not the Glory of Marrow Seal City." Quesanti said.

"Ha! This title has always suited you better. By the way, I heard that a celebration will be held in your honor?"

Quesanti said, slightly ashamed, "Uh, yes. In the Hunter's Hall in Nazumang."

Tupe gave him an admiring look. "That's where we trained together. Great! Your parents will definitely be there, right?"

“I can’t stop it.”

"I want to see how you stop it."

Quesanti laughed out loud.

"When?" Tupe asked.

Quesanti swallowed another mouthful of chili rice. "Next month. First weekend."

"It's bad, I'm getting married during those days!" Tupe complained, but his face was full of joy.

(End of this chapter)