Trygg clan's camp.
Danh's POV
Hmm, hiding behind this rock seems good. I have a decent view of the camp from here, enough to see most of it. Now, I need to take note of their numbers, fortifications, equipment, important locations, and general mood…This will take a long while.
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Third person POV.
The headquarters tent was usually a calm place. There isn't much, if even any, significant situation in this corner of the region. The tent itself is far away from the more rowdy part of the rank and file soldiers. Not to mention even the officers don't prefer such a boring and quiet place with only the sounds of quill over paper. There are more entertaining places in the camp, like the tables and chairs opposite the makeshift tavern, where people crowd to watch drunk people fist fighting. There is always a fight.
All of this is to emphasize the shock when the camp's greater shaman runs into the tent and crashes into a table. A clerk quickly helps her stand back up, only to freeze at the sight of her bleeding eyes. Another clerk shouts out: "Shamans! There's a severely wounded person here!"
The greater shaman stands straight up and says: "I'm here already. This injury is nothing. More importantly, where is the chieftain? I must speak to him immediately."
From outside, pushing through the shamans that have just arrived, a man wearing deep red and blue clothes enters the tent. All the decorations on his clothes clearly mark his high status. Karl Thyrison swiftly moves toward the greater shaman, "I'm here. Let's continue in my longhouse."
The greater shaman turns to the space slightly left of him, "No need, this is an emergency. You need to hear of this, right now!"
Before Thyrison can say anything else, the greater shaman begins, "Do you remember about the runic stones that I have the shamans erected during the camp's construction?"
Chieftain Thyrison manages a nod before the greater shaman continues, "I assume you are nodding. A few of these runes are for detecting any magical signs in close proximity to them. One of them detected something and was destroyed immediately after. I tried scrying the area to figure out who destroyed it, but the water plate blew up, causing this injury."
Chieftain Thyrison pauses for a second, "A plate of water did this to you."
The greater shaman corrects him: "The water exploded. This means that whatever has just snuck close to the camp is incredibly magically enhanced and probably powerful. Enough so to cast both an anti-scrying spell and cause damages to whatever attempting to scry them."
As the greater shaman walks towards him, she trips over his foot and is barely caught by Thyrison. As he settles her to a chair, he says, "That person is certainly enhanced, but they also have just announced their position for us. Besides, is there no other way to prevent scrying other than spells?"
While the other shamans are healing her eyes, the greater shaman speaks: "That's what I meant! They are powerful enough to confidently announce their position to us. As for your question, the only other possibility that I know is that of a large quantity of mana. Considering how much mana that'd require, I hope, for both of our sake, that it isn't this case."
Chieftain Thyrison takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. The fact that he is still alive and he hasn't heard any screaming yet means that whoever or whatever that was is not hostile, yet. He needs to take initiative and form a diplomatic team to meet it first to know more information.
For now, he needs to order all men to stand on guard in case anything happens.
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Danh's POV
Uhh, 20000 men, I think. At least they are regrouping back to their tents now for some reason. Make it easier to count.
So that'd roughly be ten thousand combat troops, maybe more with magic to make logistics easier. Either way, if this is their entire force, which it probably isn't, there should be at least a million people supporting this army. Though with all the magic and other problems that the commander of this force have, who knows how large their population is. Using my knowledge of early medieval Europe as the standard, they can mobilize up to fifty thousand men and two hundred thousand if they are that desperate. In other words, I don't have the kind of power to face that.
Welp, let's go back and call that a day. This place is over a thousand kilometers away from Olta. An invasion is unimaginably expensive and my hunting parties can easily notice such a large number of troops moving. Now I know what I have to deal with eventually, I can properly prepare. Though I haven't figured out how these people survive in this cold or where the rest of their civilization is, I am content already. That and also there is a well-decorated group coming out. I'd rather not get in their way.
Oh, they are looking over here…Oh, they are riding over here…Crap
I decide to step out of my hiding spot when they have ridden up to me. Their leader, based on how decorated he is, leans over and whispers something to his guards. One of them says to me: "Chieftain Thyrison greets your master and wishes to know the reason for their intrusion into this sensitive area."
Hmm, oh yeah, I'm acting like a scout right now. So then, "Me and my master apologize for intruding in your area, we wish to travel north to find a certain group of mages. They have certain knowledge that my master is interested in."
He turns around and whispers to the chieftain. Only now that I have calmed down that I remember about my enhanced hearing. Focusing, I can make out their conversation:
'…the cultists may gain a new and powerful mage.'
'Yes, but they could also die by the mage hand and we don't have to deal with either of them again.'
'Plus this guy's skin is yellow. That's the skin of the people living in the far south. How did they go thousands of kilometers to the north?'
'Yes, but'
'Enough! There is no one here but us. As long as all of you keep your mouth shut, we can just let them go on their merry way and ignore this mess entirely.'
The previous guard speaks to me: "There is a cult living in the ruins of a city northeast of here. However, it is extremely far and there's no civilization in between. Though we can provide supplies and let your master and his entourage stay here as guests for a day."
"Thank you for the offer, but we have to make haste. Your directions will help us greatly, thank you again and goodbye."
I turn around and walk away, restraining my desires to immediately break out into a run and keep on stably walking.
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Third person POV
As Danh slowly fades into the trees, chieftain Thyrison turns around to look at his greater shaman, whose eyes bleed even more. The flow is absorbed by a stack of linen sheets, preventing the snow from turning red. The greater shaman's hands are outstretched, stopping the shamans from healing her. Thyrison speaks aloud: "He is gone."
The greater shaman lowers her hands as the shamans rush in to deal with the injury. Thyrison questions: "Is that his servant or is that the mage himself?"
The greater shaman groans: "That's the powerful mage himself. I couldn't even check his mana. The magic circle to enhance my eyes just blew up when I finished it."
The chieftain speaks even louder for everyone in the diplomatic team to hear: "As we have discussed, not a single word about this incident is going to be spoken. We never have this conversation and the soldiers stand at attention because of a surprise inspection to maintain discipline. Understand?!"
Everyone, except the shamans who are busy repairing the greater shaman's eyes, nods their heads.
'Yeah, this is definitely gonna leak.' Thyrison thinks. Even with good discipline, most of his officers are ambitious and consider being here more of a punishment than duty. There is no glory to be gained here, no way to advance higher, at least until now. As a man who was given this position through his father's relationships, chieftain Thyrison can only prepare for the worst.
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Danh's POV
I return back to the fortified camp of my scouting unit just a few hours after nightfall. The commander quickly comes out to welcome me: "I'm glad to see your safe return, your greatness. We have prepared dinner for you already. Please wait a few minutes for us to heat it back up."
Technically, I no longer need to eat or drink. However, food tastes delicious and water is comforting, so I still eat and drink anyway. While they are heating up my food, I relay the information that I have observed from the tribal camp. They seem slightly surprised. Not as much as I had expected though.
"Even though they are more organized and armed than we had previously thought, they are still followers of a minor god in the end. They will be easily crushed under your might, blessed one."
Hmm, that might be true…given several more months and some actual training of my new abilities. Right now, a conflict is the last thing I want.
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The journey back is almost as uneventful as the journey to here. In fact, now that I have known their numbers, they don't seem as threatening anymore. Not only do they lack the number, they carry nowhere near sufficient supply to go all the way to Olta. As a result, I can sleep and learn to rule comfortably after my return.
…Which is what I have hoped, but what is life without disappointments?
About a week into the trip back, we have managed to cover a fourth of the way. With the tribal army assessed, I see no reason to go so fast and tell the commander to take his time. So, he has carefully arranged so that we stay overnight in the ruins that we previously ran by. The wealthier buildings still haven't been run down much, letting us enjoy greater comfort than in fortified camp.
Just as we are packing up, the sound of a blowing horn appears, deep and loud. Following that is another and another and another. To be honest, I have heard and seen the commander use the blowing horn to communicate with the hunting parties from afar, but this deep sound is new to me. He abruptly stands up, his face pales more and more with every new sound of the blowing horn.
I have planned to wait until the chorus of blowing horns ends before I ask. However, after over ten minutes of the sounds constantly appearing from new directions, I decide to ask immediately: "Commander, what does that sound mean?"
He takes a deep breath and turns to me, his expression seemingly better at my sight,
"Your greatness, that sound is used for emergencies. In particular, when under threat that the skeleton forces under the party's command cannot handle. Generally, others will also blow into the horns if there are many horn sounds. In my entire life, I haven't heard this many horns blowing before. What should we do, your greatness?"
…I too, also want an answer. What do I do, myself?!
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Meanwhile, Thyrison's POV.
What do I do, myself?!
Of all time, why did the clan leader's son have to arrive right before I could tell the men to stand down? Why was the first guy he talked to the same guy that wanted my position? Why did he have 5000 soldiers with him? Why was he so glory-hungry that I and the soldiers at the camp were dragged out to hunt down this one mage with him?
…Actually, I can ask that last one.
"Warchief, why do you want to hunt down that mage so much?"
The clan leader's son, the warchief Rajirson, who is talking to the officer revealing the critical information, speaks without looking at me: "Without your father and your half-decent skills, you would be whipped for talking out of turn."
"I know, that's why I asked. It's not like I will suffer worse than a demotion."
Grumbling as he does, I am still competent and known enough for that competent to not be demoted too much. Unless I mess up too badly or someone above me gets extremely determined at dealing with me. This minor issue won't be remembered, much less antagonizes him.
Warchief Rajirson answers: "Oh well, you are going to be demoted for cowardice anyway. It's because I'm losing the succession battle against my brothers."
! "I thought clan leader Nakirson is still in good health."
The warchief grunts, "He was. Now that he has gone with the King to wage war in the South, it is an opportunity to gather support for myself. Each of my 4 siblings thinks the same way, so we have been at each other's throats for a while."
That's odd. It isn't what I have learned at all, "Isn't succession rights demanded that the territory be split equally between the children?"
He snorts, "What does a Karl like you know about succession rights? But yes, that's true. However, if that happens every inheritance, the land will have been divided into thousands of pieces already. So we must compete politically, economically or militarily whenever the King isn't caring to gather more land under our name. In simpler terms, I need to force others to give away their land with either support, money or just plain killing."
Makes sense, but "That still doesn't explain why you guys need to compete?"
He grumbles, "I'm getting to it. The territory is divided equally, but there are territories that are more developed and populated and there are territories where just keeping your people alive is a challenge. So, I have to fight and compete for the best piece of the pie. After inheritance, I can use this foundation to further expand my domain."
Ah, I see.
Seemingly amused by the sight of my enlightened face, he continues, "I was originally here to bring some of the clan's soldiers back from this front to battle another chieftain. However, this mage is more valuable than a skirmish. Whether his support or elimination will win this succession for me."
"I understand now, warchief Rajirson. But why do you tell me so much?"
He swings both of his arms up, "Because I'm fucking bored. This mage has probably only gone on foot yet we still haven't caught up to him yet despite being on horseback. That and I'm tired of the sycophants licking my boots. My mood has only gotten worse since the greater shaman ran away. This is just a mage! Why did she have to run away?!"
Hmm, considering her knowledge of magic, I would have run with her had my tent not been located right next to the warchief tent. Anyway, he is right. It is very boring just riding through the woods like this. Luckily for me, and unfortunately for the warchief, food is running low. In fact, that's why we are moving much faster than at the start. The load is lightening. That means we will be forced to return soon.
The deep blowing horn of the cultists sounds out once more, signaling another engagement of our light infantry with them. These are the only form of excitement so far and also my greatest worry. The King wishes to leave the cultists alone for a reason. I don't want to find out what it is and this odd feeling in my gut signals that I will find out very soon.
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Danh's POV
"Commander, is there a signal to regroup back?"
He shakes his head, "None, the usual reaction to this signal is to rush to the source of the horn. If the horn blower or simply a large number of people are running away, then we also run away. In this case, everyone is probably fleeing to the closest town to them. Though in a state of disrepair, the walls give them a sense of safety."
"Send out riders with skeleton escorts to send a message to them that I, their, no, THE Dark Lord, is here to command them. Gather them in this town, evacuate from everywhere else."
He nods, "Understood, what will be your overall plan for me to follow accordingly?"
Let's see, all of the hunters, whether humans or undead, are mounted and equipped with range weapons. Although their arrows are more focused on hunting than killing humans, they can still deal damage at range. The walls have been left without maintenance for a long time. The storehouses are entirely empty and this place is over a thousand kilometers from Olta. My current forces are armed but almost entirely untrained and unprepared.
Hiding inside the towns, they will probably be ignored and the threat will simply bypass them. Even if I order them to strike at the threat from behind, the damage will be small as I can't properly coordinate them with the threat blocking my communication. Unifying everything and engaging in delaying attacks can work, but I will need to reorganize them into proper units rather than hunting parties.
"We will delay them as much as possible. Send a message to Olta, saying that we have to deal with a threat of some kind and the city should prepare for war."
The commander bows and leaves to act on my orders. I will need to hear from the hunting parties to be certain of the threat that I am facing. For now, I can only prepare as much as possible.