Way of Overlord Chapter 78 - 78 Who is the Fool

78: Who is the Fool?

78: Who is the Fool?

Garron still could not believe what he has seen and there is doubt in his heart Even though Garron had seen Aeryon like that, he still believe that he has to greet him.

If Aeryon is any other person, he would have dismissed him This is a Fool.

A fool conduct might be unpredictable at tis, but in the end, the fool is the Fool.

Soone like this would stumble one day, and when they stumble, they would not be able to get up And there is a smile on his face a very smug smile.

He could consider Aeryon as simple a son in law.

“And one that might benefit in the future” he chuckles, his mind begin thinking of more plans Now, he might have to change his evaluation of Aeryon.

In just one afternoon, Garron had changed his thoughts about Aeryon.

The visual impact was very shocking to him.

Today, he regretted that he did not bring more n.

“I bow my head today but, in the end, this area of the Brolgadhr tribe would beco mine” he thought to himself In his mind he already dismissed Aeryon.

Garron look at Waqu and spoke “You will join the eting later.

Hide the experienced warriors, and have them clear their throats as my son-in-law passes by.

Prepare bows and swords in the yard.

And tell them to put on an authoritative look.” There will be no better chance to show off the power of his tribe and grab the Chief of Brolgadhr and show his strength Garron made the mistake of underestimating his enemy.

He is of course still wary of Aeryon but his fear had dropped a lot To him, today, he would face Aeryon, a brave and powerful warrior.

But not soone who could speak to him equally intellectually as chief.

Garron has always prided himself in being very astute in looking at people.

And he is smart.

He might only know a few letters but he is very smart in solving problems.

So, he was pretty at ease and he wanted to show a bit of his strength.

He believes that Aeryon is a simple man.

And simple man requires simple solution.

In his mind, appearing weak might be a mistake.

Smart people always overthink.

And a fool underthink.

He sat in his tent, closing his eyes, a smile on his face.

Aeryon arrival with a thousand n created a spectacle at Garron’s camp.

The vast expanse of the Great Steppe served as the backdrop, with the horse’s hooves pounding against the earth, and the warriors’ presence creating an aura of intimidation and power.

Outside the camp, fifty n stood in line, following Garron’s orders, creating a pathway for Aeryon to walk towards the tent.

All of Garron warrior look at the thousand horse riders and n and they could not help but feel awed by the power of Brolgadhr tribe.

The line of n ford a corridor, leaving ample space for Aeryon to make his approach.

It was a display of respect and acknowledgnt of Aeryon status as a chief.

This is the thought of those warriors.

The truth however was to intimidate Aeryon.

Of course, right now, that role has been reversed.

Among those present, Waqu, unable to contain his laughter in the past, had resolved to maintain his composure this ti.

However, when he witnessed Aeryon dismounting his horse, any inclination to laugh vanished, replaced instead by sheer astonishnt.

Aeryon appearance had undergone a dramatic transformation.

His long, wavy hair had been neatly tied, giving him a more dignified air.

Gone were the unconventional garnts of tiger and leopard skins.

Instead, Aeryon now donned the formal attire befitting a chief of the Marynku tribes.

His attire exuded a sense of authority.

Aeryon wore a robe made of fine silk, adorned with intricate pattern.

The robe’s vibrant colours complented the rich tapestry of the Steppe, creating a striking visual contrast.

As Aeryon approached the tent, there was a hushed silence among the onlookers.

His attire spoke volus about his understanding of the significance of this eting.

It was a gesture of respect towards Garron, an acknowledgent of their roles as chiefs, and a demonstration of Aeryon willingness to engage in honourable discourse.

The funny appearance that Aeryon had previously donned was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Aeryon now presented himself with a dignified and noble aura, reminiscent of the rulers described in ancient texts and stories about the great Steppe Empires of old.

Aeryon formal attire was ticulously chosen to emulate the noblen of the past in the stories of the great Steppe empires of old.

He wore a long, flowing robe made of the finest silk, in deep hues of burgundy and gold.

The fabric was intricately woven, displaying intricate patterns and motifs that symbolized power, unity, and the heritage of the Great Steppe tribes.

The robe was embellished with exquisite embroidery, depicting scenes of conquest, hunting, and the majestic landscapes of the Steppe.

Each stitch represented the craftsmanship and attention to detail that went into creating such an elaborate garnt.

Aeryon attire spoke of his understanding and respect for the traditions and history of the Steppe Empires.

Adorning his waist, Aeryon carried a short sword, its hilt embellished with precious stones and engraved with ancient symbols of strength and valour.

The blade glead with a polished sheen, reflecting the light of the Steppe’s sun.

In his right hand, he grasped a long sword, its handle wrapped in intricately braided leather, signifying and symbolizing his readiness for both battle and diplomacy.

Aeryon appearance radiated authority and sophistication.

It was evident that he had taken the ti to study the historical accounts of the Steppe Empires Though many of those Empires had been fleeting, their influence on the Steppe’s history remained indelible.

Aeryon’ ticulous attention to detail in his attire was a testant to his desire to not only lead his tribe but to honour the legacy of those who ca before him.

“Then why was he dressed like that before?” Waqu thought in his heart Waqu eyes widened in astonishnt as he witnessed the unexpected transformation of Aeryon.

The change in appearance was nothing short of remarkable, leaving Waqu montarily awestruck.

In his surprise, he montarily forgot to observe the reactions of his own warriors, his attention completely captured by the unfolding scene.

Amongst the uneasy silence, one of the warriors, though clearly intimidated by the imposing presence of Aeryon thousand-strong entourage, summoned the courage to clear his throat as instructed by Garron.

However, the sound of his throat clearing broke the tense atmosphere and drew the piercing gaze of Aeryon.

Aeryon displeasure was palpable, and the intensity of his gaze sent a clear ssage to the warrior.

Before anyone could fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, a figure swiftly dismounted from his horse.

It was Belarion, a tall and imposing man, whose stature made the warrior appear diminutive in comparison.

As Belarion approached the warrior, the air crackled with tension.

The wind of the Steppe blows and everything was silent other than the sound of the wind.

The camp held its breath, aware that a spark of aggression could ignite a full-blown conflict.

Waqu felt a bead of sweat forming on his brow, realizing the criticality of the mont.

What are you doing?” Belarion bellowed the warrior did not say anything.

“Hmph” Belarion snorted Belarion snort of contempt reverberated through the tense atmosphere, and in a mont that seed to hang in suspended animation, he swiftly unsheathed his sword.

The tallic ring of the blade being drawn from its scabbard sliced through the air, shattering the uneasy silence.

The sudden sound startled the fifty n who stood in formation, their instincts kicking in as they instinctively reached for their own weapons.

The realization of what was about to unfold rippled through the camp like a jolt of electricity.

Tensions escalated, and the air beca charged with the imminent threat of violence.

The atmosphere, once filled with anticipation, now crackled with the potential for bloodshed.

The warriors, trained to defend their tribe and honour, reacted to the mounting aggression.

Hands gripped sword hilts, muscles tensed, and eyes narrowed in readiness for the impending clash.

The camp teetered on the precipice of chaos as both sides braced for conflict.

Waqu heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to find a way to prevent the situation from spiralling into a full-blown battle.

He understood the weight of the mont and the consequences that would follow if violence erupted.

With resolve, he stepped forward, his voice cutting through the mounting tension.

Without a mont’s hesitation, Waqu raised his voice, projecting his authority and commanding attention, “Stop!” The forcefulness in his tone reverberated through the camp, montarily freezing the unfolding confrontation.

All eyes turned toward Waqu, awaiting his intervention to defuse the potentially explosive situation.

Waqu voice carried a hint of desperation as he addressed Aeryon, his eyes pleading for understanding.

Beads of sweat ford on his brow “Chief Aeryon,” Waqu began, his voice filled with urgency, “this is a misunderstanding.

Please, let us not allow a fight to break out just before you et with Chief Garron.

The consequences could be disastrous for both of our tribes.” Waqu took a step closer, his body language exuding a mix of respect and concern.

He hoped to appeal to Aeryon sense of reason >> CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Keikokumars Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

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