My Kingdom Building Done Right!

Chapter 109: The Day A King Is Born [Part 2]

"I am Ulric. I have come to send you all a message from my Great Chieftain," Ulric said with pride. "Now that the war has ended, he is inviting all of you to bear witness to the aftermath of this conflict. I will lead the way, so please, follow behind me."

Vlad looked at Ulric in surprise. He had heard this warrior’s name more than once. They said he was the Chieftain of the Alborin Tribe, which had recently risen to fame.

"Uncle, he said we should follow him." Vlad looked at the middle-aged man beside him. "Are we not going?"

"Of course, we will go, Young Lord," Zed replied. "Please, stay close to me. The rest of you, protect the Young Lord with your lives."

""Yes, Sir!""

Twenty warriors surrounded Vlad and Zed as they started to follow Ulric.

Gundar, Marcus, and the Grimhowl Tribe followed behind them.

Since the other tribes didn’t want to be left out, they also started moving.

After a few minutes of traveling through the forest, a gruesome sight appeared before them.

Dead warriors were scattered across the ground, many of which were impaled by arrows and sharpened tree trunks.

Vlad’s face immediately turned pale at the sight. He also felt nauseous. However, he gritted his teeth and did his best to keep his dignity.

He might not be a warrior, but he was still the son of the Warclaw Tribe’s chieftain. He must not embarrass himself here.

Zed glanced at his Young Lord and nodded his head in satisfaction. He knew how soft-hearted Vlad was.

The number of dead bodies increased as they headed deeper inside the forest. Those who had fallen on pitfall traps and were impaled by sharp wooden stakes below were numerous.

Multiple bodies were piled on top of each other, showing everyone that the Aslan Tribe had truly prepared for bloodshed.

When the smell of blood had become too overbearing, Vlad finally reached his limit and started to puke.

Zed lightly rubbed his back, helping him calm down.

Ulric pitied the teenage boy, so he decided to stop until Vlad regained his composure.

The other representatives of the high-ranking tribes, as well as Ronan of the Redmaw Tribe, who didn’t participate in this war, couldn’t help but frown at the carnage in front of them.

Ulric didn’t stop just because of Vlad’s discomfort. He stopped so the other tribes could see with their own eyes the consequences of underestimating the Aslan Tribe.

A few minutes later, Vlad finally stopped puking. His face was still pale, but he now had a determined look in his eyes.

He now understood why his father had sent him to Grimjaw Mountain. It didn’t matter if the Aslan Tribe won or not. Regardless of who the victor was, many people were bound to die.

The Chieftain of the Warclaw Tribe wanted his youngest son to see the fate of the defeated, so Vlad wouldn’t remain naive in the ways of their world.

"I’m fine now, Uncle," Vlad said before wiping his lips with a piece of cloth that Zed had handed to him.

"Good." Zed nodded. "There’s no shame in admitting your weakness. Doing so will help you grow."

Zed then looked at Ulric, who only shrugged before continuing to lead them deeper in the forest.

They then came across a pack of wolves feasting on the dead bodies on the ground.

The wolves glanced at the barbarians with their mouths covered in blood. An eerie silence passed by them before the wolves returned to feasting upon the dead warriors that they had slain.

Vlad subconsciously gripped his Uncle’s hand harder, as if drawing support from one of the strongest warriors of their tribe.

"You could have at least spared the child this scene, Ulric," Zed complained. "Is this how the Aslan Tribe treats their guests?"

"I apologize, that was indeed very rude of me," Ulric replied. "Please follow me. I shall lead you to a shortcut."

The Chieftain of the Alborin Tribe then urged Arion to take a different path, away from the brutal sights that he had intended to show their guests.

Although their new route still had dead bodies along the way, it was still better than watching a pack of wolves feast on the fallen.

When they finally reached the base of the mountain, Ulric pointed at the pitfalls on the ground.

"Those who have surrendered to us are all inside those holes on the ground," Ulric said. "We intend to return them to their tribes after they have paid their ransom."

Not far from the hole was a small mountain of dead bodies piled up on top of each other. They were the ones who had accompanied Ross in a desperate attempt to climb up the mountain.

Though, even if they reached the stone gate of the fortress, there was nothing they could possibly do to break it.

They had simply thrown their lives away because their chieftain had been left with no other choice but to do something reckless.

Vlad didn’t pay too much attention to these things since he had been distracted by the fortress erected on top of the mountain.

His eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly opened. This was the first time he had seen something like this. The fortress loomed above them. It gave off a feeling of intimidation that was hard to describe.

Vlad was not the only one eyeing the fortress with surprise, awe, and admiration. The other representatives were just equally impressed.

Now that they had seen the fortress from up close, they finally understood that, from the very start, the raid plotted by the Bloodtusk Tribe and their allies had been bound to fail.

"Let’s go up the mountain," Ulric stated. "Our Great Chieftain is waiting for all of you."

The path had already been cleaned up because Leone ordered the survivors to throw the dead bodies on the path that led up to the mountain to the ground below.

That was where the small hill of corpses came from.

As they climbed the paved stone path up the mountain, Vlad was already imagining what the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe would look like.

He thought of the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe as a middle-aged man with sharp features and the eyes of a hawk.

’He might also have a scar on his face. He must look really intimidating,’ Vlad thought as his imagination got the best of him.

When they finally arrived at the top, the massive stone gate slowly opened to welcome them in.

After stepping inside the gate, Vlad’s breath was almost taken away by the sight in front of him.

A golden throne could be seen in the distance, its design grander than anything Vlad had seen in his entire life.

Seated on the throne was a handsome young man with short blonde hair and blue eyes. His right leg was casually crossed over his left, while his cheek rested against the palm of his hand.

The last rays of the sunset shone upon him, highlighting his features, making him look like a divine being who had graced them with their presence.

His presence overwhelmed Vlad, making the teenage boy’s heart beat wildly inside his chest.

He remembered the stories of his sister about Heroes fighting against Demon Lords that threatened the world.

While he had never seen any real life heroes, Vlad believed that if he ever encountered one, he would look exactly like the young man sitting on the throne before him.

It was then when Leone finally spoke, bringing Vlad out of his daze.

"Guests from afar, I welcome all of you to my Kingdom," Leone said, his voice calm, and collected. "My name is Leone Frontera, the Great Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe."

His voice didn’t sound arrogant nor overbearing, yet it held a charm that made Vlad unable to turn his gaze away from him.

’Sister, I think I found him,’ Vlad thought as he pressed his hand over his wildly beating heart. ’The King you saw in your vision.’

Golden particles of light danced around Leone like fireflies, illuminating him and his golden throne.

Even though the sun had already dipped into the horizon, and the world was slowly being covered by darkness... Leone and his golden throne continued to shine with all their majesty.

It was then that all the representatives gathered there subconsciously felt something.

They felt that they were looking at someone destined to stand at the center of countless heroic tales.

The beginning of a legend that was yet to unfold.

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End of Volume 1: The Birth Of The Hero King