Bo Lu's eyes flashed with humiliation, his gaze sweeping over the young leader like a knife.
"Die in battle? Do you think I, as Khan, don't want that? But if we go to war with Da Jing now, can you defeat that little 'peanut'? Or will it be like last time, when an army of two hundred thousand went to show up and ended up fleeing in panic?"
As the supreme commander of the Turks, he had to personally express weakness to the enemy. Only Bo Lu himself knew how painful it was to make such a decision.
"This..."
The young leader was rendered speechless.
Bo Lu might not yet have words like "epoch-making" in his mind, nor did he know how to express it. But the appearance of "peanuts" had already given him this understanding.
He glared at the young leader and continued: "Our military strength is not on par with the Da Jing Dynasty. If war breaks out, the Turkic warriors will only die in vain. Our tribe will be completely annihilated, and our descendants will never rise again!"
