My Kingdom Building Done Right!

Chapter 99 Pride Before The Fall [Part 1]

"Hmph! So you have come, Brann." Harold, the Chieftain of the Ashclaw Tribe, crossed his arms over his chest. "So what are you doing here? Did you change your mind? You finally want to join the raid?"

"That’s not what I’m here for," Brann replied before turning to look at the young man beside Harold. "Greetings, Lord Travis."

"Ah, so it’s you, Brann." Travis nodded. "I had planned to pay you a visit on my way to Grimjaw Mountain. Anyway, why are you here alone? Where are your men? Are you not planning to join in on the fun?"

"Since the Young Lord is already here, there’s no need for me to bring my warriors." Brann smiled faintly. "With the might of the Darkmane Tribe and the middle-ranked tribes, the battle is as good as over. There’s no way a low-ranked tribe can win against this army."

"Indeed." Travis nodded. "We’re bringing a cleaver just to chop a chicken’s head. Even I think this is overkill. However, this is also a good opportunity to show everyone what will happen to those who defy the hierarchy of the tribes."

"I’m sure this battle will become the talk of the tribes for the upcoming days," Brann replied. "It will be yet another memorable moment here in the Borderlands."

Travis chuckled before bidding Brann and Harold goodbye. The preparations to march to the Grimjaw Mountain was set an hour from now, so he planned to enjoy the "hospitality" of the Ashclaw Tribe before they departed.

Brann sighed internally as he gazed at the thousands of warriors gathered outside the camp of the Ashclaw Tribe.

It was a force that could easily annihilate his own tribe without casualty in mere minutes. There were even some representatives from the other high-ranking tribes here and there. Though they were likely scouts sent to observe how the battle would unfold.

Of course, once they were back, they would have to report to their chieftains and retell the blow by blow narration of the upcoming event.

’Even Ronan of the Redmaw Tribe is here,’ Brann thought. ’I guess he and I are thinking the same thing.’

The Redmaw Tribe was the only middle-ranked tribe that refused to send their warriors to the war.

Ronan was only accompanied by four warriors. Their roster suggested that all they planned to do was spectate.

Brann had also brought four warriors with him, along with his son. They would be traveling alongside the army to witness how this battle would end with their own eyes.

While Brann was eyeing everyone, the sound of horses running soon reached his ears.

When he turned around to look at who had arrived, he couldn’t help but gasp in shock.

The eldest son of the Chieftain of the Grimhowl Tribe, Marcus, as well as the youngest son of the Chieftain of the Warclaw Tribe, Walter, had traveled together alongside their guards to also observe this event.

The moment they arrived, cheers rang out from the warriors who recognized the scions of the two strongest high-ranking tribes in the Borderlands.

Naturally, Harold came to meet them, showering them with both praises and flattery for traveling so far just to witness this historic moment.

’This is indeed a historic moment for the middle and high-ranking tribes.’ Brann sighed in his heart. ’After a few decades of forced submission masked as peace, a low-ranked tribe finally dared to defy them again.’

If he was selfish, then he would have already traveled to Grimjaw Mountain and stood alongside the Aslan Tribe. He was tired of being trampled upon by others and treated like their dog.

Unfortunately, Brann couldn’t be selfish.

His family and his tribe depended on him.

With these heavy thoughts inside his head, Brann called out to his son and the warriors that had accompanied him to the camp of the Ashclaw Tribe.

The warriors were starting to prepare for their departure, so they also had to find a spot in their procession.

Since they would not be participating in the war, they would be traveling at the back of the army.

Brann used this opportunity to herd his people close to the Redmaw Tribe’s representatives, which were being led by Ronan.

"Chief Brann, do you wish to travel together?" Ronan asked as soon as he recognized the person that was heading in his direction.

"It will be an honor to travel with you, Ronan," Brann replied.

"There’s no honor in this war." Ronan shook his head. "It’s just plain old bullying."

Brann could only nod his head in agreement. This was indeed just another form of bullying.

But since the Darkmane Tribe and the Bloodtusk Tribe wanted to proclaim themselves as righteous, they found a loophole that would allow them to do as they pleased with a tribe that was weaker than theirs.

And so, the march toward Grimjaw Mountain finally began.

It would take them two days to reach their destination. They could’ve been faster, but the Darkmane Tribe and the Bloodtusk Tribe were treating it as some kind of sightseeing trip.

They moved at a decent pace, but they showed no sense of urgency. It was as if they were giving their enemies more time to pray before their arrival.

A day later, they were finally able to see Grimjaw Mountain. It was the last frontier of the Borderlands in the east. A place the low-ranking tribes didn’t dare explore in fear of its unknown danger.

"So that’s Grimjaw Mountain," Travis said in awe. "Do you think the Aslan Tribe has already noticed our arrival?"

"I’m sure they have," Ross, the Chieftain of the Bloodtusk Tribe, replied. "Will the Young Lord allow them to plead for mercy and forgiveness?"

"Why not?" Travis smiled. "We should be magnanimous and show the other tribes that even we can forgive others, right?"

"Of course." Ross nodded. "However, I will personally kill the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe. I will spare his people, but I won’t spare him!"

"That is understandable. After all, he has trampled upon the dignity of the Bloodtusk Tribe." Travis nodded. "If possible, let’s end this war with only the death of their chieftain. As for their tribe members, let’s just bring them back to our own tribe, so they will not suffer again."

Ross smirked. "Right. Let’s do that, Young Lord."

As the army neared the forest, they immediately went into battle formation. Though, just before they could even enter its outskirts, a voice reached their ears.

"I am the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe, Leone Frontera. Allow me to give you all my final warning. Those who have come to hurt my people will not be given any mercy.

"Those who have come to watch the show, make sure that you only observe and not do anything reckless. Otherwise, you will be considered our enemies."

Travis arched an eyebrow. "I am Travis of the Darkmane Tribe. Your name is Leone Frontera, isn’t it? We have come to punish you for breaking the creed of the Barbarians! However, if you surrender yourself and allow your people to submit to our rule, only you will have to die today. The rest will be spared!"

Travis was familiar with the spell that amplified the voice of people because even the Barbarian Shamans used this ability. So he wasn’t too surprised after seeing this opening act.

"I had no idea the Darkmane Tribe was that of clowns." Leone’s reply was swift and filled with contempt. "I now understand why Lord Gundar of the Grimhowl Tribe looks down on you, the Darkmane Tribe, and calls all of you trash.

"A tribe that only bullies the weak and fears the strong is nothing special. Turning white into black, ignoring the fact that your dog, the Bloodtusk Tribe, broke the creed first. As expected, like dog, like owner. Both are stupid.

"I already gave you my warning. The moment you enter the forest, our battle will begin. Those who have come to observe, please be careful. We won’t know who is friend or foe, so keep your distance from these mongrels."

Travis quieted down, and his face contorted in anger.

There were some taboos that must not be spoken in front of the Darkmane Tribe. The name Gundar was one of them.

Aside from that, the Darkmane Tribe liked to call the middle-ranked and low-ranking tribes as mongrels.

For those same words to be used against them, Travis felt that the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe was holding the Darkmane Tribe in contempt!

"Ross, you said you will be the one to kill the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe, right?" Travis asked with barely restrained anger. "I will apologize in advance. Because I might just kill him before you get the chance."

Ross nodded. "Understood, Young Lord."

The chieftain then raised his sword, and shouted his warcry.

His warriors did the same, their voice spreading far and wide.

"Charge!" Ross ordered.

"Kill!" Travis roared.

The moment those orders landed, the army surged forward, shouting their battle cries as they charged toward the forest.

Those who had come to observe stayed at the back. They planned to wait for a few minutes before deciding what to do. Leone’s warning made them think twice, and they decided to take it seriously.

The ground trembled as thousands of warriors surged into the forest, their war cries echoing like thunder.

For a brief moment, everything seemed normal.

The trees stood tall and unmoving. Leaves rustled softly as the army pushed deeper into Grimjaw Mountain’s outskirts.

The warriors of the Darkmane and Bloodtusk Tribes advanced with confidence, their formations tight and weapons ready.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a horn reverberating in the surroundings.

It was a sign that the war had begun.

And by the time they all realized what kind of battlefield they had stepped into...

It was already too late for regrets.