The next day, when Beim and Alexis arrived at High Cliff Castle, they had brought all the goods their tribes could spare to trade for weapons.
To the impoverished Wilderness People, Gold Coins were less practical than a piece of at in these lands, so most transactions were done through barter.
As the one managing logistics, Baisitina was naturally tasked with calculating the value of the goods.
After trading for their weapons, the two tribal representatives exchanged a look, then hastily departed for their respective tribes with the weapons in tow.
Tension filled the air among the guards they brought with them.
Levi, sitting on a small stool and munching on pumpkin seeds, watched their figures disappear over the horizon. He couldn’t help but remark, "And so begins another bloodbath."
There was a hint of gloating in his voice.
Days passed. The turmoil in the Wilderness showed no signs of stopping. On the contrary, an undercurrent of tension was building, threatening to escalate further.
For the Wilderness, a large Tribe moving south was like throwing a full-grown tiger into a flock of sheep; the entire flock was facing a devastating blow.
Until a stable peace could be re-established, chaos and turmoil would be the order of the day.
More than ninety percent of people in the world know which side their bread is buttered on. It’s not really snobbery, just a matter of survival.
In this respect, the people of the Wilderness and the Debei People were no different. It’s a tiless truth that having powerful backing makes life easier.
When Levi saw Beim for the second ti, the man had completely lost his previous smug confidence.
He looked completely dejected. He no longer flashed his two large gold teeth, and his once-ticulously grood hair was now a tangled ss.
The Lord couldn’t suppress a grin. Beaming, he asked, "My respected, noble, and wise old Chieftain Beim, it’s only been a few days. How have you fallen so low?"
Beim looked up at the Lord, his lips trembling with rage. But then, as if rembering sothing, he deflated like a punctured ball and mumbled, "Lord, I’ve co to purchase weapons."
"Soone! Take our honored guest of High Cliff Castle to retrieve his weapons."
At this, Beim seed to regain a bit of spirit. He straightened his back and followed the man away, leaving behind only a frail silhouette.
His sullen appearance made the Beastman Barbarians exchange knowing glances. They huddled together, pointing and whispering, before finally erupting into boisterous laughter.
The laughter seed to make the frail figure stoop even lower, his body trembling slightly.
The Lord suddenly felt a pang of conscience, as if he were bullying a helpless old man.
Ever since the Wind Surge Tribe and the Lizardman Tribe returned to their lands, there was nothing left to say. They imdiately went to war. After all, everyone knows the wisdom of striking first.
They’d spent the last few days trying to beat each other’s brains out.
Initially, the Lizardman Tribe was at a disadvantage. They were outmatched by the Wind Surge Tribe in both the number of Warriors and the quality of their weapons, and they suffered one defeat after another.
Just when it seed they couldn’t hold on any longer, they suddenly "found" so wild Fine Weapons and "wild" Archers in their back hills.
This instantly turned the tables. The two sides were now evenly matched, and the war devolved into a deadlock.
By now, both sides had invested so much manpower and resources that they couldn’t turn back. Only by utterly defeating the other could they hope to recoup their losses.
Beim knew that the so-called "wild" Archers and weapons were likely sponsored by the Lord of High Cliff Castle. But the die was cast; the Wind Surge Tribe had to see this war through to the end.
That’s why he could only co here to purchase even finer weapons and enhance the strength of his tribe’s Warriors.
"Lord, the Wind Surge Tribe is in the midst of a desperate battle. We simply cannot spare any extra n to guard the paynt. Therefore, I implore High Cliff Castle to send Warriors to our Tribe to escort the funds for the weapons."
Beim’s tone was utterly humbled, a clear sign that the war had taken a heavy toll on the large Tribe.
They couldn’t even scrape together enough n for an escort party.
"Not a problem. In fact, I’ll just have my n deliver the weapons to you as well."
The culprit behind it all didn’t make a fuss over the matter. He gave a magnanimous wave, the very picture of a lordly benefactor.
"Go find Zat and get a few n. Tell him I sent you."
Throughout it all, Levi didn’t even look up, just kept scooping up large spoonfuls of beef and potato stew.
Ever since Baisitina’s culinary skills had been discovered upon her arrival at High Cliff Castle, she had gained an additional duty on top of managing logistics: cooking for the Lord.
"Thank you, Lord. Your magnanimity is as vast as the great sea."
Beim said, clearly moved. How much of it was genuine, however, was anyone’s guess.
"Good day, Lord."
Not long after Beim left, Alexis hurried over. He had lost an eye since their last eting a few days ago, and his body was covered in freshly-healed scars, giving him a more ferocious air.
"You two really ca one after the other." The Lord, who couldn’t catch a break, took a silk napkin from a maid and dabbed his mouth. "All right, what is it? Not enough weapons, or do you need more n?"
"Neither, Lord. I ca specifically to thank you for your selfless aid."
Alexis placed a hand over his chest in a respectful salute.
The Wilderness Tribes were typically indifferent to one another, let alone to outsiders from Debei.
In the past, these two would have undoubtedly t the Lord with glares and hostility.
Fortunately, tis had changed.
After a few hard-fought battles, word had spread, and High Cliff Castle’s fa grew in the surrounding area. It had built a rock-solid reputation among the local tribes.
Valiant Warriors returned from ancient tis, unimaginably Fine Weapons, and even a Shaman who could perform Witchcraft—these elents ford the basis of High Cliff Castle’s reputation, a reputation that grew more and more outlandish with every retelling by those they defeated.
The title "Blood-colored Waist-slicing Hand" was famous enough to make a wailing native child instantly fall silent.
Legend told of a Demon wielding a Giant Sword, possessing endless Power, and perpetually clad in Iron Armor that obscured its face. A re glance from this creature was said to be enough to slice even the bravest Warrior in two at the waist. The victim would then be forced to spend eternity crawling on the ground in agony, forever searching for their lower half.
These tales had turned once-arrogant tribal Chieftains into fawning sycophants. Alexis was rely one of them.
As for Beim, after hearing these stories, he often lay awake late at night, regretting why he had ever offended this Lord. Now, he could only swallow the bitter consequences alone.
"Oh?"
Levi’s interest was piqued. "And how do you plan on thanking ?"
Alexis called out, and a mont later, a handful of young Goat-man won entered from outside.
These Half-Beastman maidens possessed the slender figures and lovely faces of human girls, yet they also bore the distinct features of the Goat-man Race.
The small horns on their heads and the goat tails at their backsides only added to their exotic, racial charm.
The crisp, rhythmic clopping of their hooves on the floor was strangely pleasant to the ear.
Delicate and lovely, the group of maidens huddled together like a flock of songbirds, their collective beauty outshining even the most picturesque stretch of the Bengyong River when the Bitter Love Flowers were in full bloom.
’You’re testing an official with *this*? What kind of official could possibly pass such a test?’
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