My Kingdom Building Done Right!

Chapter 93: Towards A Common Goal

Gromm finally arrived at the camp of the Stormhorn Tribe after traveling for three days.

He was very exhausted, but he needed to report the news of everything that had gone down in the Grimmjaw Mountains to his father as soon as possible.

The Chieftain of the Stormhorn Tribe, Brann, was currently discussing something with an Elder of their tribe when Gromm entered the room with a serious look on his face.

"Oh, you’re back." Brann eyed his son with a smirk. "Well then. Were Ulric and those other tribes humiliated by the representatives of the middle-ranked tribes?"

"Father, Varus and Ragan are both dead," Gromm replied.

"Dead?" Brann frowned. "How did they die?"

"The Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe killed them."

"Aslan Tribe? What’s that? This is the first time I’ve heard of that tribe name."

Gromm then started to explain that the Aslan Tribe was the tribe that claimed Grimjaw Mountain as their territory. They were also the protector of the Alborin Tribe, the Riverfang Tribe, and the Black Wolf Tribe.

The Elder, who was listening on the side, couldn’t help but be shocked by this sudden turn of events.

"Madness," Brann muttered. "They dared to kill a representative? Are they courting death?"

Gromm shared the same opinion. However, when he remembered the fiery gaze of the man behind the mask who had killed Varus and Ragan, he couldn’t help but feel a chill run down his spine.

Brann then demanded that his son tell him everything without missing a single detail. When the story ended, the frown on Brann’s face deepened.

"Based on your story, Varus and Ragan have indeed broken the creed," Brann stated. "How could they be so stupid?"

If they played their cards right, they still could have taken the women of the Black Wolf Tribe through well-escalated blackmail and intimidation.

But they just had to hurt a Chieftain. They even dared to touch the latter’s woman on top of that, which was a violation of the tribal laws.

"How did the other representatives react?" Brann inquired. "Did they berate that masked man? Also, what is the name of the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe?"

"I... I don’t know," Gromm replied. "Everything happened so fast that we didn’t get a chance to ask for his name."

The three men didn’t say anything for an entire minute. But soon, the Elder spoke his thoughts out loud.

"Regardless of the reason, the Bloodtusk Tribe will not let this pass," the Elder stated. "They are proud and arrogant people, and they will definitely find a reason to wage war against the Aslan Tribe.

"Gromm had rushed to see us, but it will probably take two days for the representatives of the middle-ranked tribes to return to their own camps. The moment this news spreads, even the high-ranking tribes will hear of it."

Brann nodded. "It has been many years since a low-ranking tribe dared to defy the middle-ranked tribes. While the law is on their side, this is but a trivial thing to those who hold true power."

"Indeed." The Elder agreed. "The Bloodtusk Tribe are the dogs of the Darkmane Tribe. If this news reaches their ears, the possibility of a high-ranking tribe joining the war is high. But of course, they must first find an excuse to do this.

"Otherwise, the other high-ranking tribes will look down on them for joining the petty squabbles of the middle and low-ranking tribes."

"You don’t get it, Elder Bakkus," Brann replied. "If there is no excuse, they will just make one themselves. This isn’t the first time something like this happened.

"Any justification can be done. If there’s no evidence, they will just forge one. That is how the middle-ranked tribes ensure that the low-ranking tribes will forever grovel at their feet!"

Gromm looked at his father, whose inner voice was leaking out. "Father, what shall we do? Must we send our warriors to assist the Bloodtusk Tribe in order to gain their favor?"

"No," Brann answered without hesitation. "We will not do anything. We will just watch."

Gromm didn’t say it out loud, but he felt relieved that they didn’t have to join this battle.

The masked man gave him a sense of danger and anxiety that he couldn’t explain. This sense of mystery, coupled with the fact that the Aslan Chieftain didn’t hesitate to kill Varus and Ragan made Gromm believe that he had a reason for doing so.

"But Chief. What would we do if the Bloodtusk Tribe demanded that we send our warriors to fight?" the Elder asked.

"I’ll just tell them that we have suffered from the clash against the Black Wolf Tribe," Brann replied. "I will also tell them that since the Bloodtusk Tribe is already powerful, they don’t need our warriors to claim victory.

"Even if I send our warriors, I’m sure that they will just be used as cannon fodder to further weaken our forces. We can’t afford that to happen!"

Brann also noticed that his son wasn’t urging him to support the Bloodtusk Tribe should they ever declare war upon the Aslan Tribe.

He knew his son’s personality. Gromm was someone who bullied the weak and feared the strong. The fact that he wasn’t treating the Aslan Chieftain as a weakling proved that there might be more to this man than meets the eye.

If possible, Brann wanted to meet this chieftain. Sadly, the volatile situation prevented him from doing so.

"Gather our warriors," Brann ordered. "Tell them that we will have an important meeting!"

""Yes, Chieftain!""

Gromm and the Elder then left to carry out his order.

When he was finally alone, Brann walked towards the window and looked to the east.

He subconsciously clenched his fists because someone was finally trying to break free from the hierarchy that bound the barbarian tribes in the Borderlands.

"I don’t know if you are brave or just stupid," Brann muttered. "But I hope that you survive this tragedy. No... I hope you win."

Like all the other chieftains of the low-ranking tribes, Brann had always wanted to elevate their position in the Borderlands.

They no longer wanted to be treated as a tribe that only offered tributes to the strong.

They no longer wanted to be oppressed.

They wanted to be free...

"The Alborin Tribe, the Riverfang Tribe, and the Black Wolf Tribe..." Brann sighed. "Three tribes have united to make their stand. If I knew this would happen from the start... I would have joined their ranks as well."

What the middle-ranked tribes were trying to prevent was for the low-ranking tribes to form an alliance.

They might be smaller and weaker than them. But, once they fought under one banner, the battle would no longer be too one-sided. The only problem was that everyone wanted to become the leader.

No one wanted to be left out, so he was truly surprised that these three tribes decided to put their pride aside and follow the will of a single individual.

If not for his responsibilities in keeping his tribe safe, he would have already gone to Grimjaw Mountain to have a proper talk with the Aslan Chieftain!

"But... maybe I can still do something." Brann narrowed his eyes.

That night, after the meeting ended, Brann’s four most trusted warriors departed their camp under the cover of darkness with a wagon filled with food, bows, and arrows.

He couldn’t help them openly, but he would plant the seeds for a possible future where he and the Aslan Chieftain would be able to work together towards a common goal.