Boom!
The leader of the Sunstone Tribe, a large tribe living near the Forest of Demonic Beasts, Waroka slammed his fist into a table. The table couldn't withstand the force and shattered into pieces.
The news that the army of the Lutania Kingdom was subjugating the region came as a tremendous shock.
Waroka harbored great ambitions—to unify all the tribes in the area and establish his own kingdom.
He had been steadily subjugating the neighboring tribes over time. But if the tribes were wiped out one by one like this, there would be nothing left for him to conquer.
Worse, his own tribe was now in danger.
"The Bloody Demon, you say?"
Waroka asked, and a warrior standing nearby answered.
"Yes, the rumors are widespread that it's the demon from the legends."
"Are they saying that demon is so powerful?"
"It is said that the alliance of eleven tribes, including the Echoing Wind Tribe, was utterly annihilated without a single warrior left standing. Even Kustu could not survive."
"..."
Waroka couldn't find the words to respond.
He himself was a renowned great warrior in the northern region. But even he had never accomplished the feat of defeating over ten tribes at once.
What was even more astonishing, though, was something else.
"Kustu... was killed?"
"Yes, in a one-on-one duel against the Bloody Demon."
"Such... impossible..."
The fact that the allied tribes were defeated without suffering casualties was unbelievable, but that Kustu had been defeated in a one-on-one duel was even more shocking.
Kustu was Waroka's rival in the race for northern unification. Waroka knew well just how powerful Kustu was.
Kustu was known to be able to take on dozens of great warriors single-handedly. Even Waroka couldn't confidently claim he could defeat Kustu in a one-on-one duel.
This was why he had been postponing the fight against the Echoing Wind Tribe.
"So, it's the kingdom's army, after all. If they're determined, we, who are few in number, can't match them. And now they've even sent someone strong enough to kill Kustu."
As he muttered complaints, a thought suddenly struck Waroka, and he tilted his head.
"But why now? Wasn't the northern region left entirely to Perdium? I thought the nobles were too busy keeping each other in check to mobilize a large army."
Even the barbarians had heard rumors of the situation in the Lutania Kingdom.
No one in the kingdom paid attention to the northern region, Perdium. The nobles prioritized managing their own territories above all else.
This gave the barbarians the freedom to fight and plunder among themselves, as Perdium's forces alone were insufficient to subjugate them.
In response to Waroka's question, a nearby warrior answered cautiously.
"Well... it's not the kingdom's army."
"What? Then who is it? Did another great lord move?"
"No... It's only Perdium's forces. The Bloody Demon is said to be the son of the Count Perdium."
"..."
Waroka was momentarily speechless.
The warriors had always mocked Perdium, treating it as an easy target. Perdium had always been too weak to do anything but desperately defend against their attacks.
They had never initiated an attack like this before.
Waroka had also looked down on Perdium. He had planned to eventually capture the northern fortress once he unified the tribes, securing a foothold for advancing into the kingdom.
But for those "pushovers" to suddenly sweep through the north with such overwhelming strength was something that would shock even his ancestors.
And how had they raised a monster like that in the first place?
"Those fools must have been gathering their strength in secret. If we fight them like this, we're doomed."
Waroka made a cold, calculated judgment.
He knew there was no way his forces could defeat Perdium under these circumstances. Not after they had annihilated eleven tribes without suffering significant casualties.
Even as a great tribe, they had barely over a thousand warriors. It was impossible to think they could win against Perdium's forces now.
'But I can't let my tribe be wiped out like this. I can't let the tribe end during my rule.'
No matter how strong the enemy, retreat was not an option for a warrior. Simply surrendering one's life was a disgrace.
And Waroka wasn't about to die without fulfilling his dreams.
After much deliberation, Waroka gave an order to the warrior next to him.
"Contact the Black Cloud Tribe and the Mountain Echo Tribe. Tell them to cease fighting and join forces with us."
"Do you think they'll agree?"
"If they don't want to die to outsiders, they'll have no choice—especially with a foe like the Bloody Demon looming."
The Black Cloud and Mountain Echo Tribes were the most powerful tribes in the region. While they had deep grudges against the Sunstone Tribe from years of conflict, Waroka was confident they would ally. Dying to an external enemy was a disgrace, and they would choose temporary unity over humiliation.
Waroka used similar methods to rally the nearby smaller tribes. Many, having heard the rumors, didn't resist the idea of joining forces for now.
The combined forces amassed over 7,000 warriors.
No matter how strong the Bloody Demon's army was, they wouldn't be able to handle this many warriors easily.
'I've gathered the warriors. But... can we really win this fight?'
Waroka spent days agonizing over the decision.
The enemy had annihilated over 5,000 warriors and defeated Kustu. Even with 7,000 warriors, he wasn't confident in victory.
Losing was unacceptable, but even a hard-fought victory would leave his tribe's future in doubt.
If too many warriors died, unification would become impossible, and survival alone would become the priority.
'With food already scarce, losing warriors would mean we couldn't even venture into the Forest of Demonic Beasts.'
The Sunstone Tribe relied on resources from the forest to survive. Conducting a large-scale battle in their current state was a risk.
The other tribal chieftains and warriors were eager for battle, but Waroka was different.
Though he was the greatest warrior of his tribe, he was also a shrewd politician with ambitions.
'Fools who know nothing but fighting and plundering.'
They lived only for today, with no thought for tomorrow. It was this attitude that had allowed Waroka to nurture his ambition of unifying the tribes, but it was also a problem when facing an external threat.
After much contemplation, Waroka proposed a compromise.
"Let's negotiate a ceasefire."
The other tribal chieftains erupted in uproar.
"Negotiating with outsiders? How disgraceful!"
"That's an insult to a warrior's pride!"
"The northern fortress's forces are weak! If we win this one fight, they're finished!"
"I refuse to bow to Perdium!"
The tent where the tribal chieftains were gathered became chaotic. Everyone was talking about pride and advocating for war.
Boom!
Waroka slammed the table with his fist, and the tent fell silent.
No one here could defeat him in a one-on-one fight. He was a contender for the title of the strongest in the north, alongside Kustu.
Waroka growled as he addressed the gathered chiefs.
"Their forces wiped out 5,000 warriors without taking significant losses. And they killed Kustu in a duel. Even if we win, do you think we'll come out unscathed?"
"..."
"And then what? Do you think we can survive in this harsh northern land with so many warriors lost? Do you want to live in fear of wandering monsters?"
Someone shouted indifferently.
"We are proud warriors! We fear nothing! Losing our pride as warriors is scarier!"
"Think! You fools! Starving to death is more disgraceful than dying in battle!"
"..."
While there were many other reasons Waroka wanted to avoid fighting, he didn't voice them.
These men lived on pride alone, so he knew he could sway them by appealing to that.
Not being able to hunt and dying of starvation with their families would be seen as the ultimate disgrace. The ongoing food shortage only made this argument more persuasive.
Some resisted, but Waroka used a mix of threats and persuasion to bring everyone around.
In the end, the barbarians sent emissaries to the northern fortress to propose negotiations.
When Zwalter, who had been inspecting the knights' training with Ghislain, heard the news, he couldn't hide his surprise.
"Well, well. I didn't expect them to actually propose negotiations. You were right."
"Yes. If we conclude the negotiations well, they probably won't dare approach the northern fortress for a few years. Though there may still be minor attempts at plundering."
"Even that is a relief. It's a weight off my shoulders."
A true lord's concern for his people was evident in his response.
The surrounding tribes had already been wiped out, and even the barbarian coalition of 5,000 warriors had been defeated.
Even if there were future attacks, they would be much easier to fend off.
Unbelievable things were happening one after another.
'Hah, I really raised a good son. Who would've thought something like this would happen? Even my father wouldn't have believed it.'
Zwalter looked at Ghislain with a proud smile. His calm demeanor made him seem all the more dependable.
A few days later, on the plains in front of the northern fortress, the barbarian army faced the combined forces of Perdium and Fenris.
White flags were raised in both camps, and representatives from each side gathered at a table prepared between the two armies.
The barbarians were represented by Waroka and a few warriors, while Perdium was represented by Zwalter, Ghislain, and a few advisors.
"I am Waroka, chieftain of the Sunstone Tribe. We seek no more conflict."
Though he spoke of peace, his face was twisted with anger.
While politics and ambition had led him to propose the truce, his warrior's pride had been wounded.
Zwalter, with years of pent-up grievances, didn't hide his irritation.
"Fine. Let's hear your terms."
"A five-year truce. We will cease raids on northern Lutania and find other routes. I will also do my best to control any small-scale raiding attempts."
"Is that all? After all the suffering you've caused us, your only offer is to stop raiding?"
"It's not a bad deal for you. Haven't you spent a lot on military defense against us? This would save you money and bring peace of mind. Surely that's enough? There's nothing to gain from continuing to fight us."
In essence, they were saying, "We've beaten each other up, but now we'll stop, so let's call it even."
It was an arrogant stance, but it wasn't entirely wrong. Perdium had always been impoverished because all its resources were spent defending against the Forest of Demonic Beasts and the barbarians.
Five years might seem short, but for Perdium, it was sufficient. With the food and mana cultivation techniques they had acquired from Ghislain, they could strengthen their foundations during that time.
After some thought, Zwalter asked.
"How can we trust you? What if you break your promise and attack suddenly?"
At this, Waroka shouted angrily.
"I am a great warrior! I do not lie!"
In truth, Waroka had nothing else to offer Perdium. The nomadic nature of the tribes meant they never accumulated significant resources, often resorting to plundering even among themselves.
Even food supplies were severely lacking. He couldn't offer anything tangible, so his warrior's honor and pride were all he had to bargain with.
"Hmm... Is that all?"
Zwalter sighed bitterly. But he understood the barbarians' circumstances and the pride of a great warrior. He knew this was the best they could offer.
He didn't intend to fight any longer, so he was inclined to end things here.
Though he couldn't trust them completely, even if they broke the truce, it would simply return to the usual skirmishes.
It was far better than dealing with a large coalition of barbarians and suffering heavy losses.
With that practical reasoning, Zwalter nodded to signal agreement.
"Very well. Then let us draft the agreement—"
Before Zwalter could finish, Ghislain, standing silently beside him, spoke in an expressionless tone.
"Immediately offer 5,000 horses, and an additional 200 horses every year for five years. That is my condition."
"What?!"
Waroka turned to Ghislain with a startled expression. Just when he thought things were wrapping up nicely, this unexpected demand came out of nowhere.
Angered, he scowled and asked.
"Who do you think you are to make such a demand? And what if we refuse?"
In response, Ghislain looked down at him with an arrogant gaze and replied.
"If you refuse, you and all your men will die here today."
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