Lothar spoke, then asked, "Is there anything else you wanted me to come over for?"
"Hold on, take a seat first!"
Corvinus adjusted his posture, which seemed somewhat languid.
Lothar sat down opposite Corvinus.
"Do you know about the bandit plan I mentioned?" Corvinus asked.
"Mm-hmm!"
Lothar nodded. He didn't really approve of the bandit plan, considering the immense risks involved. It wasn't just a threat to the tribe, but also to the bandits themselves. For the tribe, the concern was exposure—revealing that the Silver Mane Tribe was the mastermind behind the scheme. As for the bandits, Lothar didn't believe that Corvinus's bandit group would amount to much, because Corvinus had hinted that it would be based on the chief's guard.
To be honest, while the chief's guard might consist of elite werewolves, there were only a little over fifty of them. Such a small number would be easily outnumbered by the guards of any passing caravan.
"They will set off tomorrow, led by me personally," Corvinus said, unaware of Lothar's thoughts. As his uncle was one of the tribe's most important officials, he naturally needed to brief him on some matters.
Lothar was initially surprised by the first part of the statement, but he was stunned by the second part.
"No way, you're the chief. How can you risk yourself so easily?"
"Don't you understand? The wastelands are becoming more chaotic, with a complex web of forces. Some of the larger bandit groups have tens of thousands of members, and many of their leaders are powerful warriors close to legendary status."
"Even if you encounter a slightly larger bandit group, you wouldn't stand a chance."
"It's too dangerous. As the chief, you mustn't act recklessly!" Lothar stood up abruptly and opposed the idea vehemently.
At this moment, he was speaking as Corvinus's uncle, reprimanding his nephew. He had been a mercenary himself and knew that bandits were not as simple as Corvinus seemed to think. Mercenary groups were different; although competition among them was fierce, they still had some limits. Moreover, mercenaries and bandits usually left each other alone.
But bandits were different. They were known for their cutthroat tactics, and they were also targeted by mercenaries. If Corvinus's bandit group consisted of only fifty-odd werewolves, it would be like sending them to their deaths.
If it had been half a month ago, Lothar might have let his nephew go and take his chances. If he had died outside, Lothar could still have his eyes on the chief's position. But after the battle with the coalition, Lothar realized that his nephew was the perfect ruler. He chose to submit.
So he would never allow his nephew to act recklessly.
"Uncle, you're overthinking this. I'm heading to the Kassros Canyon. You should know about it. Besides, I'm not there to form a bandit group. The tribe's current situation is clear to you. I need to find food for the tribe. Otherwise, how will we survive?" Corvinus saw his uncle's angry and anxious expression and inwardly smiled. This was the first time his uncle had spoken to him like an elder.
It also made Corvinus realize that Lothar was finally treating him like a true nephew. At least since he became chief, their previous uncle-nephew bond had faded, but now it was finally restored.
"It's almost May now. We won't harvest our first batch of sweet potatoes and potatoes until July. Our food supplies will only last a month at most. We need to find a way to cover the remaining month," Corvinus said.
Lothar fell silent. The tribe's food shortage was indeed a significant issue.
"Kassros Canyon, although there are no major bandit groups active there, you should know that it's actually the most dangerous place," Lothar warned.
Hearing that Corvinus was going to Kassros Canyon, he felt relieved.
Kassros Canyon is located in the Tara Hills, about a hundred miles southeast of the Silver Mane Tribe. It is a vast hilly area where mercenaries, merchants, and bandits are very active. Kassros Canyon is the largest canyon in the Tara Hills. It is a commercial hub with tens of thousands of shops. You can buy anything there if you want to. The floating population reaches a hundred thousand.
Almost all the merchant camps in the southern wastelands are radiated from Kassros Canyon. While it is prosperous, the public security is naturally first-class, and it is said that there are legends sitting in Kassros Canyon.
Lothar believed that Corvinus would not be so foolish as to go there to be a bandit. So his mood eased a lot.
"Uncle, you don't have to worry about me. I'm going there to find a way out for the tribe this time. Moreover, I have some plans. If everything goes smoothly, it may be able to find a long-term source of wealth for the tribe."
"Moreover, I will be at most for a month. If things go well, maybe I can return in just half a month," Corvinus said with a smile.
"Also, Uncle, you know that once I've made up my mind, even I can't change it myself," Corvinus said half-jokingly.
"Thus, the tribe for the next month will be in your hands."
Lothar wanted to say something more. He still thought it was too risky. But Corvinus' eyes were too confident. Moreover, would his opposition be of any use?
This damned despot was clearly not consulting him but just notifying him. No matter how much he said, it could not change Corvinus' decision.
Lothar left the parliamentary hall in frustration.
Inside the hall, Corvinus got up and watched his uncle Lothar leave without a word. He smiled.
He had indeed thought about the bandit plan before. But just now, when he checked the system data, he suddenly found that there were so many technologies in the mall. Why bother with a bandit group?
Just selling a few technologies should be able to help the tribe get through this food crisis.
The moment he realized this, Corvinus felt a great relief.
After all, as his uncle said, bandit groups were too dangerous. He was not a fool who was deliberately courting death. Even if he wanted to form a bandit group, he would wait until the tribe had enough strength to participate!
...
In the military camp, the cavalry training ground.
Kro, Bagen, Cadia, and Tyton gathered together, looking at the carts in front of them.
"Is this the equipment the chief mentioned for the second cavalry squadron?" Cadia was the most active, picking up a wooden rod about a meter long, thick in the middle and thin at both ends, with a sharp metal tip at the front.
"That's right!" An old werewolf, with a shrunken body, bony claws, and teeth that were almost all gone, indicated that this old werewolf was at least seventy years old.
This old man was the head of the Silver Mane Tribe's forge, a mid-level blacksmith named Bastos.
"What's this called?" Tyton looked at it curiously. It was his first time seeing it, and he didn't know what it was.
However, since it was equipment, this thing should be a weapon.
The old werewolf, mid-level blacksmith Bastos, was about to explain when they heard a voice in their ears: "This thing is called a javelin, a new weapon!"