Insufficient balance

  "Kill...... kill......"

  The earth-shaking battle cry, with a flavor of overwhelming momentum, came from the Weiyuan Manor and spread all the way to the outside of the high city wall.

  Yulin Village may not be as large as Ziyun Village, nor is it as rich as Ruiyu Village. It's a typical military fortress and also a stopping point in the middle of the Zhao family's trade route.

  On the road, team after team of traveling merchants pulled camels, horses and carts along the highway. The loud battle cries did not make them feel afraid.

  On the contrary, the earth-shaking "kill" sound made people outside the city feel safer.

  Inside the high walls, there are many low-quality but numerous residences. Some of the sharp towers are equipped with giant crossbows and catapults.

  Here there are neither Arab robbers who frequently infest the trade routes nor petty thieves who steal horses.

  What made other merchant groups uncomfortable was that outsiders were not allowed to stay here. Even the Zhao family, who had moved in, were isolated outside the military camp.

  The inhabitants of the Feathered Estate were all Mamluk cavalrymen undergoing training. From six to ten, and up to twenty years old, the Mamluks trained here.

  Adult Mamluks would then be enrolled in the cavalry of their patron, or that of another amir or governor.

  Those who were selected from a young age, robust and intelligent children, would receive even stricter training to become members of the Zhao family's Feathered Forest Guard.

  Unfortunately, up to now, the largest batch of real Yu Lin guards is only about 15 years old. Mu Ke happens to be one of the best in this group of children.

  But this also makes people expect that after five years, a team of thousands of elite cavalry can be pulled out here.

  Outside the city, there are some farmlands that provide vegetables and meat to the Mamluk soldiers in the castle. On both sides of the main road, there are also some merchants who provide accommodation and meals for passing travelers.

  This business was done by Zhao Fubo's father, and the Zhuangzi was also built by him. Even Wei Zhen, who trained the Mamluks, was appointed by him. This is why Wei Zhen likes to get close to Zhao Fubo.

  Arriving here, as usual there's nothing good to choose from, the beef and mutton hand-pulled noodles are just enough. As for Zhao Fubo, what he likes more is to compete with the elite soldiers here to test his skills.

  Not to mention Zhao Fubo and Shu Yiner, who were having a great time playing on the playground, but his teacher was not idle.

  With the help of two sturdy Mamluks, Martin climbed onto the city wall. At this moment he sat in a wheelchair, wearing a black Gandoura. If he held a feather fan, it would have had a bit of a feathered turban flavor to it.

  "The land is good, the Euphrates and Tigris rivers meet here and the Arabian river flows into the sea. This land can be well irrigated. Unfortunately, the people here are not very enthusiastic about farming!"

  Little John didn't care about these things, he just kept eating the purple grapes in his hand nonstop. The grapes grown on sandy land were not only big and sweet but also deliciously juicy.

  But for some reason, when Little John ate, he had many picky eaters. Even making people feel that it has exceeded the character that a man should have.

  When peeling the grape skin, his little finger actually curled up. Under the sunlight, his overly delicate fingers almost sparkled with a white luster.

  At this moment, although he was wearing a suit of armor and had a curved sword hanging from his waist, somehow he still looked elegant and refined.

  "Hey, Zhu..."

  Before Martin's words had fallen, Little John gave him a glance with his bright blue eyes.

  To be honest, his blue eyes are very beautiful. If an adjective is needed, the word "charming" can be used. It's probably because his eyes are too good-looking that they give off a somewhat effeminate impression.

  "Hey, have you forgotten our appointment?"

  Old Man Martin laughed somewhat awkwardly, and didn't seem to want to waste any more words on that agreement either. He just made an apologetic gesture before continuing his lengthy discussion.

  "Ah, sorry. John, I'm telling you, the person who arranged this trade route is a far-sighted one. The furthest are Purple Cloud Manor and Feather Forest Manor, and according to them, the Windy Horse Farm is here. This trade route not only guards the riverbank but also controls the river flow. As for that distant Ruiyu Manor, it's just an advance arrangement as a precautionary retreat."

  "If I had to say something, Zhao Fubo's father was indeed a talented person. Unfortunately, this kid still hasn't woken up yet!"

  Little John looked at old Martin with disdain and spoke without reserve. Anyway, they were speaking English, and the two Mamluks on the side probably couldn't understand them either.

  "What's wrong with being inexperienced? I think he has a bit of a knightly air about him! And you, who are experienced, can't even beat four Mamluk cavalrymen!"

  "Hey, you stinky... are you going to be reasonable or not? Letting a crippled old man like me fight four Mamulukes..."

  Old Man Martin felt that he had been wronged. As a traverser, his mind was full of knowledge. Unfortunately, in this chaotic world, it seemed that his value was not as high as that of the little scamp.

  He could have waited until he turned around and was surprised to find that Little John had his back to him, walking towards the lists.

  "Alas, the crows in this world are indeed generally black... Let's go, take me to the training grounds, and let me see what these supposedly most formidable Mamluk cavalry look like!"

  Muttering curses under his breath, he urged the two Mamluks to push him away from the city gate quickly.

  The whole city was completely under military discipline, with strict guards at each gate, all of which were heavily guarded.

  Mamluks of varying sizes, wearing different armor according to their age and level of training.

  The largest were those adult Mamluks who might be sold at any time, wearing chain mail (ring armor) riding war horses, holding long spears or hanging long swords from their waists, with bows and shields behind them.

  According to records, Mamluk cavalrymen were highly skilled in archery, riding, swords and lances. Their strict training and education based on Muslim teachings also made them brave warriors who excelled in combat techniques and were almost invincible.

  However, after Martin saw another team of younger Mamluks, his view on these cavalry changed.

  This team of cavalrymen were about the same age as Muk, with similar builds and movements, even their expressions were alike. The only differences were probably just their hair colors, or perhaps the level of their combat skills.

  Unlike other Mamluk cavalrymen, they wore armor made of thin iron plates that overlapped like fish scales.

  Even in the military camp, they followed strict road rules, and the commands shouted by the leading officer were all in Chinese. This couldn't help but make Martin feel a little strange, and he muttered to himself in a low voice.

  "Hmm, it seems that this Zhao family has some background. Look at this armor, it should be the equipment of the Southern Song Dynasty's official army. How did it end up here?"

  Although Zhao Fubo is surnamed Zhao, the true identity of the Zhao family remains a mystery to Martin for now, and this mystery also involves Martin's future actions.

  If possible, he would like to return to this stormy Southern Song Dynasty.

  Although he didn't have any intention of becoming an emperor, teaching the skills in his mind to more people later on is probably also a way to strengthen the Chinese nation.

  Just think about it, he is an old man with a single wick left in his life, what else can he do?

  It's just that recently, after seeing the power of the Zhao family, he often has some doubts in his heart.

  What is this Zhao family planning to do? If it's just about survival, then what the Zhao family is doing now is already very good.

  But the team of young cavalrymen wearing Song-style armor in front of them made it easy to see that their family's appetite was far from just these.

  "Don't they have any other ideas about this Middle East region? In the future, this will be a place where Eastern and Western military power, technology, and economy collide in chaos! Moreover, their family has ambitions to develop here, do I need to give them those excessively advanced knowledge?"

  With these questions in mind, he pondered painfully on a wheelchair pushed by two Mamluks.

  According to his idea, he should keep useful people back to Zhongyuan. Those knowledge from the future should also be mastered by people of Zhongyuan.

  As for what they do with that knowledge, he can't control it, and at his age and physical condition, he's probably unable to control it even if he wanted to.

  "Good..."

  The pure Chinese cheers interrupted his thoughts, and his gaze turned to the teaching field.

  There is a square platform like a cake near the school field, which is convenient for viewing or inspection. At this moment, the people on top of the platform are watching the struggle in the field.

  As for inside the arena, it was that Zhao Fubo who was surrounded by a circle of Mamluks.

  A black war horse, still wearing that suit of cowhide armor, with a large spear in hand dancing about like a monstrous python.

  It was probably because the master of Shulin Manor, Wei Zhen, had heard about his solo battle against four Mamluk cavalrymen that he sent out a team of six Mamluk cavalrymen, including Mu Ke.

  They were using knives, shields, chain locks, iron guns, big axes and wolf-tooth clubs. At this moment, they were surrounding Zhao Fubo like a lantern, constantly waving their heavy weapons at him.

  Zhao Fubo, surrounded in the middle, wielded a large spear to parry and strike left and right. Although the situation was not optimistic under siege, those six Mamluks could not get an inch closer to his body.

  "This little guy must be familiar with the internal family gun method of Zhongyuan, otherwise how can one person defeat six Mamluks? The origin of this Zhao family is indeed very suspicious!"

  Old Martin, sitting in his wheelchair, also has some experience. From the observations of the past two days on the road, Mu Ke guessed that Zhao Fu would probably use the internal family gun method of Zhongyuan when he had a chance to stand on top of the horse carriage and hold his "big gun stake".

  If it were really so, however, Martin couldn't help but think of a very important person.

  Unfortunately, the strong sunlight disturbed Old Martin's thoughts, he looked up at the sky and said a sentence.

  "I'd better put an umbrella on my wheelchair, this Middle Eastern sun can dry out the oil on my old bones!"

  At 8:00 in the morning, the first shift; at 14:10 in the afternoon, the second shift; at 20:20 in the evening, the third shift. Please bring your votes and collections, thank you!