Hishe -- Liuliu!
The loud and hoarse neighs were audible even miles away, but Aaron looked around and could not even see the trace of the wild horse.
That thing, can't it be a celestial horse flying down from the heavens?
It's like Perseus's mount.
“Here it comes, the most savage ruler among Chaiqioris horses. Our tribe is named after it.”
“White Scar—”
Chahortai tensed up, lightly patted his horse, and calmed it.
Aaron looked over, and in an instant, the calm children now turned into bolts of lightning running fast.
He did not ride his mount fully; instead, he side-somersaulted, with both legs supporting one side of the horse.
Holding the reins with one hand, he firmly fixed himself to the side of the horse.
His body seems to have undergone special flexibility training, or his inherent talent is enough to do so, twisting his body and hiding it beside the horse, from another perspective, his existence can't be seen.
To Aaron, it looked like the maneuvers of those circus acrobats performing tricks with horses.
Chahortai's body fully adapted to the speed of the horse, while acrobats need to avoid the risk of accidentally falling off and getting crushed by the horse's hooves.
Bottomia still held such performances a few years ago, but as chariot culture flourished, now more people are inclined to ride chariots in races.
After all, more people can be seated on a chariot, and during the race, they can shoot arrows and throw javelins.
"This speed is much faster than Marrum running full out. With such a strong wind, he doesn't even blink."
Aaron sighed, and it was only when the thunderous hoofbeats completely enveloped all of his hearing that he saw that wild beast, larger than the horse Chahortai was currently riding.
If my father were here, he would just say, "It's a horse; it's just not very attractive."
That old thing only cares about the donkey at home.
In Aaron's eyes, this wild horse was the embodiment of the wind. When running, even its shadow could not be captured, leaving only those thunderous hoofbeats.
Thankfully, the horse wasn't charging towards him; otherwise, Aaron estimated that a collision would jolt him out of his dream and back to reality.
Gradually, Chahortai successfully controlled the horse to get closer to White Scar's figure.
His horse has reached its limit, and each time the muscles on his neck lift forward, he is choked by the reins.
And the outline of White Scar remains blurred, making it impossible to judge when the other will feel tired.
Chahortai calculated the distance, and after three breaths, it was the closest time for their horses to White Scar.
After that time, he will never have another chance to catch up with White Scar.
Although he could easily tame any wild horse and pass the assessment.
However, Chahortai wouldn't give up on it, the fastest wild horse! This was the worthy mount for himself!
Three -- Two --
Chahortai leaped abruptly, landing on his horse's saddle. Before his feet had even found their balance, the rope coiled around his waist was thrown out.
By the time the loop of rope caught White Scar's neck, Aaron had even failed to notice how the boy managed to climb onto the horse's back.
This took less time than it took to count a number.
His brothers, they are indeed of semi-divine stature.
Why can't his own big brother be like that? His brother's eyes are already blurred, and his physical response is far from keeping up.
But this does not prevent Aaron from cheering loudly and praising Chahortai's actions.
"Good job, Chahortai! I think you could conquer even the mightiest centaur warrior! Centaurs are renowned for their fighting skills and have bred many heroes."
Chahortai's ears caught Aaron's words and found them amusing.
This ghost is from an ancient time before or from other legends in the world?
The allusions and names mentioned are ones he has never heard of before.
But now he cannot distract himself from thinking about what kind of centaur that thing is.
Bang!
The horses of his tribe finally ran out of strength, used up their last bit of energy in a leap, and flung Chahortai upwards.
Subsequently, the pace slowed down until they finally knelt on the ground, licking their tongue, and their beautiful fur began to ooze blood.
"Thank you, I will tame White Scar."
Chahortai silently said to himself in his heart, his body in mid-air, almost defying the laws of physics, began to pull the rope of the noose, sending his own body up to directly above White Scar, and then pressed down heavily.
This operation left Aaron speechless, can a human's body really exert force in mid-air?
These brothers are one after another, each of them possesses extraordinary skills!
Such a strong and muscular body, if it also agreed to beat their father, then it would be even more secure.
Anyway, Aaron himself believes that he wouldn't be able to do something like leaving his newborn son somewhere else.
From the fact that Chahortai is only four years old now, it can be inferred that a hero of demigods can defend themselves from the moment they are born.
No wonder Father always thought that raising a son was as simple as leaving him to grow on his own.
It seems like the problem is with oneself?
Aaron quickly shook his head and swayed his body, firmly believing.
It must be that unreliable father; what does it have to do with me!
Looking ahead, Chahortai and White Scar's figures gradually become closer.
Because this little brother had already locked his powerful arms around White Scar's neck, the horse's neck was so thick that it could be compared to a gatepost.
Their flesh was tightly intertwined, and no matter how White Scar twisted its direction, it could not shake Chahortai off its back.
Gradually, White Scar's figure fell from high-speed movement, revealing its true form.
This white horse looks more like a beast than a divine creature, its body structure is consistent with that of the Chaiqioris horses, but all its fur turned into grey and white.
It looked ferocious, and its expression was filled with anger that looked down on all things.
Due to the structural needs of quadrupedal animals, the muscle mass on White Scar's shoulder extended down most notably, and the marks of muscle friction and tugging could be seen with the naked eye.
Only such powerful muscles can support White Scar's speed that has reached its peak, even turning into a gust of wind.
If such muscles were roasted, he would have to chew them until his teeth ached, and they might not even be chewable.
Before Aaron could observe clearly, his brother had already lifted his arms high, pulling and twisting White Scar's head backwards, further slowing down the speed.
Also allowing Aaron to observe more clearly.
From the right side of the neck to the right scapula, there was a completely depigmented scar without any fur.
According to the knowledge taught by his mother, these meats have already gone bad and need to be removed.
The newly appointed priests who can't control the temperature well often create a situation of overcooked but extremely hot cattle during the ritual of offering bulls to Zeus.
The rotten meat that burns after the fire is extinguished looks like that.
Ah, when I was four years old, I was being held in my mother's arms, listening to her talk about the bizarre things she encountered during her career as a priestess.
Wait, why is this horse getting closer to me!
When Aaron snapped back to reality, he saw Chahortai's face, which was too adorable and innocent, with his sturdy muscular body, and the ferocious wild horse, which was so fierce that it seemed to exhale steam, was right in front of his face.
Two people and a horse were engaged in a struggle, and neither paid attention to whether there was a young bald man in front of them. White Scar's hooves galloped past, crushing Aaron and running off into the distance.
Chahortai couldn't even turn back to see what had just happened. He was busy trying to use his arms to clamp down on White Scar and tame this beast.
"You beast, submit to me!"
"I am the Khan of all tribes of Chaiqioris and the master of the world!"
"The fastest rider on the entire grassland!"
It seems that in Chahortai's subconscious, the identity of the fastest rider is a bit more important than that of the Khan.
