Hyperdimensional Player

Chapter 268 Returning Like Lightning
Rumble.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

As the torrential rain gradually intensified, the thick stench of blood filled the air. Two figures rode their steeds up the hillside, looking down to see two armies locked in a fierce battle. Their numbers were not large, only a few hundred on each side, yet they fought with extraordinary ferocity. Both men and women were skilled in mounted archery and charges. Because the downpour affected their bows, they were forced to draw their blades and spears for close-quarters combat.

The flash of lightning illuminated Duncan's angular profile. He gazed at the dragon flag fluttering in the wind and rain, still standing tall on the battlefield, and for a moment his expression was dazed, as if he were recalling the years when he fought in Europe.

The most loyal guards of the Emperor, the Sarmatians.

Their numbers were significantly fewer, yet they remained fearless in the face of the formidable Eastern nomads. A valiant female warrior raised the dragon-headed banner high, and amidst the flashing lightning, she let out a battle cry of unwavering resolve. As the blood-stained banner fluttered in the wind, behind her, the remaining hundred or so cavalrymen gathered together, gripping their three- or four-meter-long spears, forming an iron torrent, and launched a final, desperate charge towards the enemy ahead.

They remain as valiant as ever, with the dragon banner guiding their direction and inspiring their fighting spirit and courage!

"Stay here and wait for me."

Duncan glanced at the witch Greya beside him, then rode off alone, spear in hand. His figure was like a bolt of lightning streaking across the darkness, a silent king, a one-man army. Amidst the rumbling thunder, the will of all spirits trembled. Bolts of lightning struck like a storm, yet none fell upon Duncan, as if illuminating his path.

You will return like lightning.
The whole country celebrated together.
Earth, sea and sky,

I am illuminated by your light.

I will wear white clothes.

I will touch you again.

Your light and my heart

I love you so much.

King of Kings, King of Salvation…

Blood, death, the neighing of warhorses, the lives of warriors, blooming and fading like fireworks in the lightning.

The storm beneath the thunder roars in silence, reaping everything in its path.

A brutal collision erupted in an instant. Facing the elite cavalry launching a desperate charge, the fierce nomads also drew their swords. Their conquest would not stop, and no one could stop their ambition to conquer the world.

All spirits and fire, storms and lightning.

The thunder roared like a dragon.

In the instant of the collision, the casualties on both sides were so shocking. The two surging torrents were filled with severed limbs and broken arms, the mournful neighing of warhorses, and valiant figures falling from their horses and being trampled by the galloping cavalry. The leading female warrior used her spear to lift up an enemy's corpse. Her battle cry was filled with indomitable fighting spirit. With only a few dozen riders, she broke through the enemy's formation.

Blood dripped down.

She had many wounds, but her hand holding the dragon flag did not tremble at all. The remaining dozens of cavalrymen silently regrouped, surrounding the valiant female warrior, and once again formed an attack formation amidst the lightning that streaked across the sky.

Attack! Attack! Attack!

Charge to the death, fight to the last man.

The collision of the two torrents erupted once again, and this time, the valiant female warrior could no longer hold on. Her heavily injured body swayed precariously, and she almost fell off her horse, the dragon banner in her hand drooping limply.

But right now!
Rumble.

In the flash of lightning, a strong arm caught the swaying dragon flag. As that hand lifted the fluttering dragon flag again, the female warrior's swaying figure was also lifted up by his arm around the waist, and placed into his embrace as if it were nothing.

The female warrior looked up, and on her young face, streaked with blood and tears, she could only see the man's profile illuminated by lightning.

"hold me."

A deep voice rang out, as powerful as steel, and he said in a deep voice, "Your king has returned."

Dragon banners and spears are the heritage of the Sarmatians.

Rumble!
Streaks of lightning streaked across the sky like raging dragons.

The Necromancer's Spear unleashed a storm of blood and flesh. With the swirling whirlwind, enemies fell in droves like wheat being harvested. Duncan, alone, galloped on his horse, the reins falling into the hands of a female warrior. With one hand, he raised the fluttering blood-red dragon banner high, and with the other, his spear moved like a dragon, slaying more than ten men. He led the remaining Sarmatians cavalry through the enemy lines, leaving corpses strewn everywhere. Almost no one could stand against him.

"Who is that person?" (in the nomadic language of the grasslands)
"devil!"

Faced with this seemingly demonic man, the nomadic cavalry, whose formation had just been breached, regrouped. The leading steppe warrior looked horrified as he stared at the bloody path the man had carved out, seemingly feeling a nameless fear.

The surrounding Sarmatians followed the direction of the dragon banner and saw the heavily wounded female warrior. She was holding the reins, her whole body trembling slightly, whether from excitement, trembling, or fear, it was hard to tell.

A pair of cold, vertical dragon eyes emerged in the darkness.

Lightning illuminated it.

dragon? !

The riders, their faces filled with shock, dragged their wounded bodies and gathered beneath the blood-red dragon flag.

Rumble!
Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.

Flames ignited.

Amidst the horrified gazes of countless people, the blood-red dragon flag actually burst into flames in the torrential rain. The flames did not burn the flag itself at all, but instead circled around it, illuminating the darkness like a torch.

Duncan tilted his head slightly and glanced at the direction of the hillside, where the figure of the witch Greya could be seen in the darkness in the distance.

The blood-red dragon flag, burning fiercely, danced wildly in the wind!
"Salmatian Dragoons!"

"Come with me!"

Duncan's deep voice inspired morale. Amidst the frenzied roars of the Salmatian cavalry, Duncan led the charge, single-handedly piercing through the enemy ranks like a storm, directly turning the tide of the battle and scattering the fierce nomadic herders before him.

The entire battle ended as swiftly as if a myth had been reborn.

When Duncan put down the female warrior in his arms, picked up the Necromancer's Spear, and approached the fallen nomad chieftain, his cold gaze lowered, and he slowly said, "Submission, or death?"

All spirits trembled slightly.

His Majesty remains as domineering as ever.

The shaman in the crowd was the first to kneel down, followed by a whole group of nomadic warriors bowing their heads in submission to this man who seemed to be able to control lightning and fire.

………………

Endless grassland.

Two figures rode steeds across the vast grassland. In the distance were tents of tens of millions of cattle and sheep, while in the very center stood a magnificent altar, the Damdah ceremony of the nomadic people of the grassland, which is a ritual to worship the heavens.

This ceremony is roughly equivalent to the New Year for many nomadic peoples, and many small tribes also intermarry on this day to ensure the flow of bloodlines between them.

Although they also had traditions of brother-to-brother succession and father-to-son succession, it was nothing special in this primitive era.

The West is in even greater chaos.

At this time of year, nomadic tribes in various places will set up corresponding sacrificial ceremonies. They have three most important festivals: the first is to worship the sky, the second is to worship the earth, and the last is to worship their ancestors, mountains, and fire. Because there are not many mountains on the grassland, they will set up a large pile of stones to represent the distant sacred mountains.

"I thought you would take me to the south, but I didn't expect you to bring me to the grasslands."

The witch Greya looked travel-worn, her beautiful face veiled as she looked at Duncan beside her and asked, "Is there anything you need here?"

The gods of faith are active in the south, in a prosperous region further south than the Gold Coast, a subcontinental area that can only be reached by crossing the Gold Desert.

The original continents of this world did not completely split apart. It can be understood that North and South America, Africa, Eurasia, and even Australia are all connected on the same continental shelf plate. Although some places have become subcontinents, there are still landmasses that can be crossed.

Moreover, the climate in many places also violates the laws of matter; the Gold Coast was transformed into a subtropical climate by the power of the god Oman.

"Going south?"

"The competition there is too fierce."

Duncan smiled and turned to say, "Haven't you heard a rumor from the South?"

The witch Greya looked puzzled and listened intently, asking, "What rumor?"

Duncan laughed and said, "Legend has it that in the Cloud Mist Mountains between the Rose City in the south and Glory City, there is a mysterious old man who helps passing merchants, travelers, mercenaries, and so on, guiding them, helping those who are lost, providing shelter, and spreading the faith of a new god."

Upon hearing this, the witch Greya seemed to have thought of something and murmured, "Are you talking about the God of Travel - Lant?" Duncan slowly nodded.

Greya asked with a surprised look, "You think the rumors are true?"

Duncan smiled but said nothing.

According to legend, there was a god who was not doing very well. He had neither a base of faith nor a powerful church. So after becoming a god, he often tried to disguise himself as a mortal and spread his faith by helping lost people.

Yes, what is being spread is His own faith; the divine being himself is preaching.

Dude, trust me.

It's amazing!
It's actually similar to joining a gang. Gods are like the big shots of a sect. In the early days, worshipping gods didn't have such a high status, and many people personally manifested themselves to spread their teachings.

But regardless of how true or false this rumor is, there is no doubt that the competition there has become extremely fierce.

Everyone wanted to eat the fattest piece of meat.

For Duncan, going to someone else's territory to steal is less worthwhile than farming and developing his character in the jungle.

Moreover, another aspect of the god Aman is in the southern city of Glory, a very prosperous allied city-state. Due to its unique geographical advantages, it has developed very well, much like Sword Coast in Dungeons & Dragons, located on the best piece of land on the subcontinent.

In this era, humanity did not yet have the ability to transform nature on a large scale, so the city-states that were able to rise to prominence were all geographically advantageous.

A nation that is constantly battered by its mother river is a rarity in the entire history of humankind.

Not to mention there's another river even more dangerous than the Mother River.

That natural bay was the stronghold of the gods, bordering the golden desert on one side and separated by dense jungle on the other.

Dimensional space.

From Duncan's God's-eye view, the mark of 'all beings watching' is emitting a faint glow, and the grassland wind surrounds his body, as if it is jubilant and restless.

Several riders approached from directly ahead. The old shaman at the head of the group was very excited when he saw Duncan. He bowed respectfully and said, "The spirits have issued a divine decree!"

"We will obey your orders."

Is this man's backup plan?

How did he do that?
The witch Greya, standing to the side, looked utterly shocked. She had no idea when Duncan had become involved with the shamanism of the nomads. Logically speaking, he was from the northern barbarians, a place whose beliefs were completely different from those of the nomads on the grasslands.

The mark that had attracted the attention of all spirits gradually changed, transforming into a golden symbol called 'Protector of All Spirits,' exactly like the scourge of God, Attila.

—"Protection of All Spirits (Supernatural Power): The will of all spirits is one with you, you are impervious to all laws and all evil is warded off."

—“Divine vision cannot reach you (supernatural power): All spirits have obscured the prying eyes of the gods, and even the raging gods cannot predict you by any means.”

The intensity has increased so quickly?

Duncan looked slightly surprised; Wan Ling's initiative this time made him a little uncomfortable.

Surrounded by a group of shamans, the two entered the Damdal Assembly, where many nomadic tribes had gathered to discuss their offensive strategies for the coming year.

They currently have several disagreements. Some believe they should attack the Zoroastrian territory, which is relatively rich and populous, while others believe they should cross the border of the grasslands and enter the territory of the highland kingdoms. Still others believe they should first consider taking over the countries of the subcontinent.

Geographically, their location is roughly similar to the Eurasian steppe of the original world. The many tribal leaders were divided, with some believing that Europe should be attacked, others believing that the Middle East should be attacked, and still others favoring the conquest of the South Asian subcontinent.

The tent flap was lifted.

Duncan's imposing figure entered the tent, attracting the attention of many tribal leaders who wondered who he was. When they inquired, they learned from the shaman that he was a warrior favored by all spirits.

Since he was a warrior favored by all spirits, they quickly accepted him.

"The nomadic tribes have not yet been completely unified."

Duncan understood it at a glance; no wonder Wanling was so enthusiastic.

His trip to the grasslands was to gather intelligence on the global situation, given the numerous pantheons there. He needed to determine where to begin.

At first, quite a few people paid attention to him.

But seeing Duncan sitting silently in the corner, the others couldn't help but turn their attention away and begin arguing about their own points of view. In the end, of course, there was no result, and the many tribal leaders parted on bad terms. The old shaman looked quite worried, because if the nomads could not unite, the will of all spirits would probably be difficult to carry out.

The entire Damdal assembly lasted for seven days, and in the end, the many nomadic leaders parted ways and returned to their respective territories.

Among these people, some had already conquered small Middle Eastern countries, plundering vast amounts of wealth and people, and had no intention of giving up the territories they had seized. Others, however, yearned to conquer even more land and wanted to advance towards the Gold Coast, the very heart of the Western world.

If everyone has their own ideas, then it's the same as having no ideas at all.

"Similar to the situation in the Root World, nomadic peoples must first have a strong leader in order to expand their territory on a large scale."

"Otherwise, with everyone having their own agendas, it will be impossible to concentrate our efforts."

Duncan did nothing all day but watch and listen quietly until the Damdah Conference ended. Only then did he pick up his grandfather's battle axe, grip the Necromancer's Spear, and follow a migrating nomadic tribe to the southeastern subcontinent.

This nomadic tribe, known as the Torghuts, was one of the earliest nomadic tribes to migrate to the east.

Their leader was Kereit Khan. At the Damdal Assembly, Duncan won the respect of the tribal chief by drinking with a group of nomadic warriors, and was then invited to conquer the subcontinent together.

Duncan readily agreed.

If it weren't for the beautiful woman accompanying Duncan, Kreik Khan would have chosen one of his many daughters to marry him.

half a month later.

The vast nomadic army marched into the subcontinent along the Bosimir Strait.

The will of all spirits guided them to conquer the world.

Although each shamanic sect interprets the will of all spirits differently, for these tribal chiefs who have just won several consecutive battles, it doesn't matter where they fight first; the key is to be able to get the spoils.

Amidst the vast horde of nomadic cavalry, the witch Greya rode up to Duncan ahead and asked in a low voice, "Are you planning to attack the Aztec gods first?"

She didn't understand why all the spirits would favor Duncan.

But she more or less guessed that this man's background was not simple, and he was definitely not an ordinary mortal.

Instead of answering her question directly, Duncan pointed into the distance and said slowly, "There are too many gods in this world."

"Even the shamanistic belief in all spirits has not achieved unification."

What if there are too many gods?
Kill a batch first.

Then, depending on the situation, we'll consider whether to kill another batch.

The power of all spirits is even greater than that of the fairies of Avalon in the past. With their blessing, Duncan's explosive power is terrifying, and it is not impossible for him to directly sever the real foundation of some gods.

This subcontinent was also home to tribal civilizations.

The most powerful of them were the Aztecs, a brutal kingdom that revered blood sacrifice.

When Duncan spotted the feathered cavalrymen in the distance, he was certain that this subcontinent was a branch of the Native American civilization. Whether in the Root World or here, their strength was not great; they could only bully the native gods.

The Aztecs wiped out the native tribes here hundreds of years ago, then established a new state and built magnificent temples and pyramids in the dense jungle.

Subsequently, their territory continued to expand, and they even attacked the main continent, but they did not gain any advantage against the highland nations.

Duncan gazed into the distance, thinking to himself, "The Indian gods?"

Is Quetzalcoatl here?

The All-Spirits sect must first conquer the civilizations that also belong to it, uniting them under the will of Heaven.

………………

(P.S.: One section was written after drinking, and it had too many typos, so I spent a long time correcting it.)
(End of this chapter)