The wind in Dry Wind Gorge carried the unpleasant smell of charcoal and roasted meat. The soldiers silently and efficiently dragged the corpses, tossing the twisted limbs into the dug pits with practiced ease, as if handling livestock.
Brin, his armor stained with an unknown black grime and dust, strode before Arthur, his voice hoarse:
"Lord Arthur, all the corpses in the gorge have been counted."
He paused, his brows deeply furrowed.
"But the numbers are off. We found many fewer people than expected. There were almost no women, children, elderly, or infirm, a significant difference from our earlier estimations."
No sooner had he spoken than the sound of longswords being drawn rang out one after another. All the soldiers' gazes instantly ignited like a raging fire, piercing Kopi and the forty-odd surviving Shuren Tribe members beside him.
"Liars! These savages are all liars! Kill them!"
"They must have secretly let their own people go!"
"My Lord! The savages are not to be trusted! Kill them! Cut off their heads! All savages deserve to die!"
"Burn them all alive! Burn them!"
Angry roars echoed through the empty gorge, and a murderous aura once again permeated the air. The Shuren Tribe savages frantically searched for anything they could use as a weapon to defend themselves.
Arthur slowly raised a hand, and instantly, all the clamor vanished, as if choked by an invisible hand. The soldiers tightly gripped their weapons, trembling all over, their bloodshot eyes fixed on the savages, yet daring not to utter another sound.
He turned, his gaze falling on Kopi, cold and devoid of emotion, yet more chilling than a drawn blade.
Kopi's face was ashen. He took a few steps forward, then dropped to one knee with a thud, his forehead almost touching the ground. His moment of mercy had brought great disaster upon himself and his tribesmen.
His voice trembled, but he tried to remain calm.
"Black Lion War Chief, please calm your anger. The tribe's numbers are too great. If we moved together, the target would be too large, and I worried it would arouse your suspicion."
"So I had them split into two groups. The warriors capable of wielding weapons went ahead, and the elderly, infirm, women, and children who couldn't fight took another, smaller path."
Arthur said nothing, merely watching him, as if scrutinizing every thought deep within his soul. Time passed in dead silence, each breath like a cut to Kopi's heart. The Black Lion and his Flatlanders army were now more terrifying to him than the Burning Men Tribe.
Finally, Arthur withdrew his gaze and turned to Rosso: "Take everyone. We're leaving."
His army did not tarry for a moment, swiftly turning and marching rapidly in the direction Kopi had indicated.
In another, more secluded valley, a large group was struggling to trek through. The group consisted almost entirely of children and elderly people with faltering steps, as well as female savage warriors carrying weapons. Their faces were etched with exhaustion and bewilderment, like a flock of sheep abandoned by their shepherd.
When Arthur's army, like a black tide, surged out from all directions, completely blocking their paths of retreat, everyone froze. The Black Lion and his Flatlanders army, despair, like facing a sudden winter, instantly froze their blood.
Then, when they recognized the familiar figure beside the Black Lion and his Flatlanders army, despair turned to shock, which then ignited into towering rage and hatred.
Kopi, son of Gern!
They instantly understood what had happened: traitor!
An old savage with white hair trembled as he stretched out a finger, pointing directly at Kopi, squeezing the most vicious curses from his hoarse throat:
"Traitor! Kopi, son of Gern! You betrayed us!"
"I curse your soul to never find peace!"
"Traitor!"
"Coward!"
"Shameful!"
The women cursed him with the foulest language in the world, their imprecations rising and falling, while the children old enough to understand stared at him with eyes full of fear and hatred.
The Shuren Tribe members behind Kopi lowered their heads in shame, not daring to meet the gaze of their former compatriots.
The few dozen remaining male savages and some fierce female warriors in the savage group, armed with crude weapons, spontaneously stood in front of Arthur's army. They formed a fragile defensive line, their eyes resolute, prepared to make a final stand with their lives.
Arthur stood to the side, expressionless, quietly watching them continuously verbally abuse Kopi, son of Gern, the chief of the Shuren Tribe.
He wanted to completely push the Shuren Tribe to the brink before completing his plan to turn these savages into docile hunting dogs.
The curses were incessant, even growing louder, as if to pierce the heavens.
Finally, Arthur waved his hand. The surrounding soldiers moved in perfect unison, and rows of crossbowmen raised their cocked crossbows. The dark crossbow bolts gleamed ominously, aimed at the savage group.
The sounds instantly vanished. The valley became terrifyingly silent, with only the sound of the wind and the suppressed sobs of children remaining.
The savages knew that any resistance was futile. Their current numbers were no match for these Flatlanders, but they would rather die fighting like warriors and return to the High Mountain with their ancestors.
It was at this tense, explosive moment.
Arthur moved. He walked to Kopi, son of Gern, and placed a hand on the shoulder of the savage who was so humiliated he wished he could bury himself in the dirt.
Finally, he spoke: "From today onwards! Your Shuren Tribe is no longer a High Mountain savage tribe of the Brightmoon Mountains!"
He drew the longsword from his waist, its tip pointing directly at the Shuren Tribe savages standing in the back.
"From this moment! You are the Black Lion's Sauron Tribe!"
"The Chief of the Sauron Tribe! Hereditary and perpetual! Kopi, son of Gern! From now on! You are the first Chief of the Sauron Tribe! Your son will be the second Chief!"
These words were like a small stone dropped into water, causing not the slightest ripple. The Shuren Tribe savages looked at each other in confusion, not understanding what had happened.
Arthur understood the reason for the savages' reaction and continued to announce his "generosity."
"I do not require you to pay me any taxes! You can maintain your original way of life! Continue to hunt! Gather! Graze!
Even raid! Raid my enemies!"
"If there is a famine! If you lack food! I will provide it for you! From now on! You will never go hungry again!"
The savages of the Shuren Tribe finally showed a hint of emotion. Hunger was a nightmare they had been unable to escape for generations, and now they could even retain their original way of life.
Arthur's tone shifted, his gaze becoming sharp: "But!"
"You must pay me a blood tax!"
"During wartime! You must provide me with soldiers!"
"In peacetime! You live freely! In wartime! I will conscript you! You must fight for me!"
"This is your only obligation! And it is the value for which I allow you to exist!"
He slowly lowered his longsword, its tip pointing at the wide-eyed female savage warriors in the crowd.
"Now! The property of the other tribes and them! They belong to your tribe now! Kopi, son of Gern!"
Kopi and the Shuren Tribe members behind him were first stunned, then erupted into uncontrollable ecstasy. Like a pack of hungry wolves, they howled and rushed into the crowd, beginning to claim their new property and women. Screams, cries, and the crude laughter of the savages mingled together.
Arthur watched the chaotic scene before him with indifference. Everything was proceeding as planned. These people would become natural warriors, maintaining their poverty and harsh living conditions to provide a blood tax.
He sheathed his longsword and looked at the surrounding soldiers, speaking again: "Male savages from the original tribe! Anyone who can speak! Leave no one alive!"
The order was given, and the soldiers behind him immediately sprang into action, without mercy, without pity.
Like efficient butchers, they expressionlessly dragged out the few remaining male savages in the group who tried to resist, any male savage who could make a sound, regardless of age or frailty. One by one.
With a swing of the sword, heads rolled to the ground, and warm blood soaked the soil beneath their feet. The last resistance, in the face of absolute force, was utterly crushed into mud.
Kopi, son of Gern, stood in the center of the chaos and slaughter. He watched his tribesmen joyfully, wildly, and brutally divide the female savages and their possessions. He watched Arthur's soldiers ruthlessly carry out the order to slaughter.
He smelled the strong scent of blood, but he also caught a whiff of what the Flatlanders called "power."
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