A deep frown appeared on Zed’s face. Perhaps he had accidentally pushed Gundar into forming an alliance with the Aslan Tribe.
The Aslan Tribe was not only a tribe that survived the combined attacks of the middle-ranked tribes, but also a force that had created a fortress in the Grimjaw Mountain without anyone noticing it.
After seeing the exterior and the interior of the fortress, Zed knew that bringing the fortress down would take over ten thousand warriors ard with siege weapons.
And if the headcount of Leone’s tribe increased further, the number of warriors required to bring down the fortress would also increase proportionally.
’Let’s test the waters first,’ Zed thought before lightly clearing his throat. "Tell , Lord Leone, if the Grimhowl Tribe doesn’t support you in a war between you and the Darkmane Tribe, how many hours do you think it will take for this fortress of yours to fall?"
"Let’s see..." Leone smirked as if he found this theoretical question quite amusing. "This fortress might fall if the Darkmane Tribe and our tribe fought each other. However, it will end in mutual destruction.
"After the battle ends, the army of the Darkmane Tribe will be so decimated that they will no longer be able to call themselves a high-ranking tribe.
"If they are willing to fall from grace, then I don’t mind fighting them head-on. Of course, the condition is that no other tribes intervene in our battle."
Leone deliberately omitted one crucial fact. That even if the fortress fell, he would just simply evacuate with his people through the underground tunnels the Aslanians had been working on.
Once the Darkmane Tribe realized that they had attacked a hollow fortress after winning a pyrrhic victory, they would beco too heartbroken to keep on living.
After all, why would Leone worry about a fortress that he could rebuild in less than ten minutes?
Also, if they tried to take it for themselves, they would find themselves with a very deadly surprise.
Leone would simply demolish everything, killing all the warriors who had remained inside the fortress.
The losses that the Darkmane Tribe would suffer in that theoretical war would be enough to drag them down to the ranks of a middle-ranked tribe, which would also spell their doom.
Since one of their old rivals had fallen so low, the other high-ranking tribes would not give them a chance to recover.
They would imdiately devour the remnants of the Darkmane Tribe, finally ending their legacy in the Borderlands.
And while that was happening, Leone would casually return to Grimjaw Mountain and rebuild everything from scratch.
By then, none of the high-ranking tribes would dare to challenge him again!
"It’s easy to say those things, especially if you haven’t seen the true power of the high-ranking tribes." Zed dismissed Leone’s words as the re boldness of youth.
"For example, take our Warclaw Tribe as a model. Your strongest warrior is Ulric, right? We have dozens of warriors who are just as strong and even stronger than him."
Ulric wasn’t offended nor dejected by being used as comparison. It was true that the high-ranking tribes had powerful warriors that were stronger than him.
If not, then the Kingdom of Britannia, as well as their neighbors, would have long conquered the Borderlands.
"Then do you have soone as strong as Great Uncle in the Warclaw Tribe?" Leone asked with great curiosity.
Surprisingly, instead of Zed telling him the answer, the reply ca from the old shaman beside him.
"They do," Gundar comnted. "However, he is just like . One of our feet has already stepped into the grave. If we were to fight, then it would be the last ti that we fight."
Zed smiled thinly because the old shaman was right. They had a protector who was as strong as Gundar, which was the reason why the other tribes reluctantly acknowledged the Warclaw Tribe as the strongest tribe in the Borderlands.
"I see. No wonder the Kingdom of Britannia can’t conquer the Borderlands," Leone replied with a smile. "This is actually good news!"
Zed blinked once, then twice because the reaction he was hoping to see in Leone didn’t appear.
Instead of showing fear and anxiety, the young man was even smiling and patting his chest in relief.
"I don’t understand. Why are you smiling?" Zed scoffed. "Are you mocking us?"
"Mocking you? Of course not," Leone replied. "The Aslan Tribe and the Warclaw Tribe have no grudges with each other. Of course, that will be different if Lord Zed tries to find fault on his own accord. If that happens, then the fault will not lie on our side. We will have the moral high ground."
Gundar laughed out loud and patted Leone’s shoulder. "Give it up, Zed. This kid is built differently. Your intimidation will not work against him."
Besides, if the Warclaw Tribe did try to make their armies march up Grimjaw Mountain, Leone had many ways to escape with his life and his people while still dealing great damage to the Warclaw Tribe.
As long as the young man wasn’t taken out first, he would make them regret bullying him.
"Uncle, that’s enough," Vlad said in a serious tone. "We have been invited here as guests. It is very improper to antagonize the host who has shown us good will. Please, don’t make our tribe look like the villains in front of everyone gathered here!"
Zed looked at the teenage boy in disbelief. The only one making him look like a villain was his Young Lord, who was supposed to be on his side!
"Uncle, sit down." Vlad spoke once more, making his voice sound bold, but failing to do so because he was still young. "Your words don’t represent the Warclaw Tribe. If you continue this, I will report you to my father."
Zed heaved a deep and long sigh before bowing towards Leone.
"Forgive , Young Lord," Zed said. "I was rely trying to figure out your true character. I hope that you didn’t take any offense to my words."
"No offense taken," Leone replied with a smile. "I know you’re just testing because I am young. Our short discussion opened up my mind on how strong the high-ranking tribes are."
With both sides backing down while saving each other’s face, Zed finally sat down and returned to his al.
Vlad looked at Leone apologetically, to which the young man raised his mug of fruit juice in Vlad’s direction, prompting the forr to do the sa.
As if coming to an understanding, both drank at the sa ti, letting bygones be bygones.
’It seems that the youngest son of Troy is not as simple as I originally thought.’ Gundar played with his beard. ’He might be young, but he knows that his words carry real authority. Even Zed was caught off guard and was forced to take a step back to salvage the situation.’
The old shaman sighed. He could sense it. A new era was indeed coming to the Borderlands.
An era where the young would step up to fix the problems the old ones had created, which would lead to a better and brighter future.
If Gundar had any regrets, it was that he might not be alive to see that bright future.
A future that would carve its na across history, whether the world was ready for it or not.
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