The dim glow of the morning sun slowly pierced through the clouds, sprinkling a faint golden hue across the mountains.
On the blood-soaked ground, nameless weeds greedily drank in the remnants of the dead, struggling to grow taller and stronger.
Several vultures circled in the sky, unable to wait as they prepared to dive down and enjoy their feast.
Despite not having slept the entire night, Samwell was still in high spirits. He directed his subordinates to clean up the battlefield and arrange the prisoners.
This battle had finally been won—and it was a resounding victory.
Samwell knew very clearly what this victory meant to him.
First, after being tempered by this baptism of blood and fire, the group of recruits he had gathered were no longer just for show. They had become a real armed force he could truly rely on.
Second, he himself had gained tremendous prestige from this victory. Before, he had been a well-known piece of trash among the nobles of the River Bend, someone no one thought highly of except the recruits he personally recruited. But now, everyone looked at him with reverence and respect, genuinely treating him as a lord who had expanded his territory.
Most importantly, after this battle, the new territory would no longer have to worry about being harassed by savages. At least in the area around this valley, no savage tribe would have either the courage or the strength to pose a threat to him.
At that moment, Todd walked over, bowed to Samwell, and said,
"My lord, the preliminary statistics from this battle are ready."
After this victory, the knight of House Tyrell was clearly much more respectful when facing Samwell.
"How did it go?" Samwell asked.
"We lost a total of twenty-one soldiers, and more than thirty were seriously injured. However, we killed over two hundred and thirty savages and captured nearly a thousand people!"
By the time he reached the end, even Todd—an illegitimate knight who had experienced many battles—found it hard to believe.
He had taken part in countless battles before, yet he had never seen such exaggerated results. What shocked him even more was that he knew very well that the force in front of him consisted mostly of recruits fighting their very first battle.
Even if the enemy were poorly equipped and loosely organized savages, such a brilliant victory was still more than enough for this young pioneer knight to step into the ranks of outstanding generals of the River Bend.
The Tully family truly produced an abundance of capable commanders.
At this point, Todd no longer dared to associate Samwell with the label of "trash." In his view, either that reputation had been a complete misunderstanding, or it involved some dirty internal conspiracy within House Tully.
"Very good. Properly take care of the wounded and the fallen. Pay compensation according to the standards I promised earlier. You can ask Gavin for the funds."
"Yes, my lord."
"Did you capture the wildling leaders?"
"We did. This attack was launched by a nearby tribe called Huya. The organizers were the three sons of the tribe's chief. All three have been captured."
"Good. Bring them to me."
"Yes."
It wasn't until the three Huya brothers were brought before him that Samwell realized one of them was the terrifying savage who had posed a deadly threat to him on the battlefield the night before.
"We meet again," Samwell said with a smile. "What's your name?"
"Cheka." Cheka clenched his teeth, forcing the words out. His bloodshot eyes were locked onto Samwell, as if he would leap forward and tear out his throat at the slightest provocation.
Samwell naturally wasn't afraid of a defeated enemy—especially one whose hands and feet were bound.
"Cheka, we don't have any personal hatred, do we?" Samwell asked calmly. "I've never harmed anyone from the Huya tribe. So why did you attack us?"
Cheka snorted coldly and said angrily,
"Everywhere you Hewan people go, you seize land and build cities, cut down forests, and hunt wild beasts. But all of these are gifts from the gods! Now you've ruined them, and you still ask why we attacked you?"
"These resources for survival aren't marked with anyone's name," Samwell replied. "Why do you claim the gods gave them exclusively to you? Why can't they be jointly developed?"
"Heh. Since you've won, then this mountain forest naturally belongs to you," Cheka sneered. "Why are you saying so much nonsense? Kill us if you want. None of the Huya warriors fear death!"
"Really?" Samwell looked at the fearless brothers and suddenly had an idea. "But I never said I was going to kill you."
"You won't kill us?" Cheka frowned. "Are you planning to turn us into slaves?"
Samwell shook his head. "Enslaving others is an offense against the Seven Gods, and the laws of the kingdom clearly forbid the keeping of slaves."
"If you won't make us slaves… then you'll let us go?" the second brother, Qimu, couldn't help asking.
To his surprise, Samwell nodded.
"Hmph! Are you really that kind?" Cheka clearly didn't believe him.
"I never intended to be an enemy of the savages," Samwell said frankly. "It's just that you never gave me a chance to show goodwill. Like I said earlier, the gifts of nature aren't something you can monopolize. As long as you're willing, we can become partners, friends—or even family."
"You River Bend nobles always sound nice when you speak," Cheka said disdainfully. "But in the end, don't you just want us to submit to you?"
Samwell smiled and asked, "Isn't it natural to submit to the strong? Isn't that how things work in your tribe as well?"
Those words left Cheka speechless.
Among savages, strength was indeed respected above all else.
After a moment, he spoke again in a muffled voice,
"Only the patriarch of the Huya tribe—our father—can decide whether we submit to you."
"Then I want to meet your father."
"Fine. Then release us first—and our people."
Samwell shook his head.
"Your attack caused us heavy losses. There must be corresponding compensation."
"What kind of compensation?"
"All the tribesmen we captured must stay and help build my castle. Only after it's completed can they leave."
"Isn't that just turning them into your slaves?" Cheka snorted angrily. "You said you wouldn't keep slaves—typical hypocritical nobles!"
Samwell ignored him and continued,
"And you three must also pay a price as punishment for instigating this battle."
"What punishment?"
"Hundreds died because of you. The punishment must be equal—so naturally, death."
Cheka burst out laughing. "So you still plan to kill us? Was everything you said before just nonsense?"
Samwell shook his head once more. "No. I'll only kill one of you. The other two will be released, as a sign of my sincerity in reconciling with the Huya tribe."
The three brothers froze, then almost simultaneously asked,
"Which one are you going to kill?"
Samwell smiled faintly, a mysterious look in his eyes.
"That," he said softly, "is for you to decide. Choose which one will atone for the dead."
As Samwell finished speaking, the atmosphere instantly grew tense and delicate.
...
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(End Chapter)