Chapter 144

Chapter 144
## Chapter 144

The local rulers were ultimately forced to swallow their pride and supply both sustenance and shelter.

While it would have been convenient to offer nothing more than thin gruel and floor mats, their visitor was the renowned Conqueror of the North. Aware of the peril that accompanied a lackluster welcome, they were compelled to obsess over every minor detail, even as the expenses climbed to staggering heights.

“Report on the current grain and seasoning levels in our stores.”

“We can sustain this for roughly ten days without failing. However, the kitchen staff is overwhelmed by the volume…”

“Ensure the preparation is flawless, regardless of the time it takes. If we present parched trail food, the Duke will certainly make us pay for it.”

“What about the sleeping quarters? The inner keep cannot possibly house a crowd of this magnitude.”

“Erect pavilions beyond the fortress walls and distribute blankets. If we provide high-grade wool, they will find more comfort here than in a common tavern.”

“Fine wool blankets? Our inventory doesn’t support such numbers!”

“Collect every scrap available! Scour the merchant stalls, and if we are still lacking, petition the adjacent lords for assistance!”

The nobility scrambled in a state of panic to accommodate the unannounced horde. Simultaneously, they felt a pang of genuine grief as they watched their hard-earned wealth dissipate.

Do they have any concept of the labor required to amass such a fortune!

However, the tribesfolk experiencing this bounty were far too enchanted by their new environment to spare a thought for the lords’ grievances.

“Incredible. Look at the bowl. There are morsels in this broth I’ve never even seen. The abundance is staggering!”

“Are greens truly this plentiful here? And what is this sharp, tingling sensation on my tongue?”

“This is beyond belief. To provide for such a multitude in a single sun-cycle… exactly how deep are their coffers?”

Though the lords had exerted themselves, they were merely serving the kind of hearty pottage found in a standard home. Nevertheless, that humble meal was enough to send a shock through the tribal ranks. They were stunned to realize that even food not reserved for the elite could be this dense with ingredients.

“It isn’t just the meals. Observe those colossal ramparts. It feels as though the entire world’s host could be held at bay simply by barring the entrance.”

“And look at their smithing. The tip of that sentry’s pike is more refined than my own blade, and I am a seasoned combatant.”

“To think a realm like this sat less than two weeks’ march away. Had the King not guided us, we would have…”

As the warrior’s voice trailed off, a collective shiver ran through the tribe. They envisioned themselves freezing and starving in the wastes while these people lived in luxury right on their doorstep.

In the heavy silence that followed, a man suddenly thrust a steaming wooden bowl into the air and bellowed.

“Honor to the King who brought us to this sanctuary!”

“…Long live the Sovereign of the Prophecy!”

“May the Great Ancestors rain blessings upon him!”

The adulation spread like a crashing wave through the encampment. Their unified roars vibrated through the stone walls, unsettling the local townsfolk. The lords, exhausted from managing the logistics, scowled as the cheers for Lucian reached their ears.

Curse it all, we are the ones filling their bellies!

We are the ones bleeding gold, yet that man reaps all the gratitude.

Suppression is necessary. If we vent our spite now, the Duke will mark our faces for retribution.

It was a jagged pill to digest, but they had no alternative; they were still atoning for the treachery of siding with Calix. The lords were forced to stifle their bitterness and continue draining their treasuries for the tribesfolk, all while watching their own forced generosity be repurposed into devotion for Lucian.

—

Lucian maintained his progress toward Asagrim with the tribes in his wake. As expected, every cost incurred during the march was extracted from the lords previously aligned with Calix. The tribesfolk remained in a state of constant awe, perpetually surprised by the quality of the provisions and rest stops provided.

Eventually, Lucian reached his own borders, which lay closer than Asagrim.

“Welcome home, Your Highness. I have been expecting your arrival.”

“Fritz?”

Lucian’s eyes flickered with surprise at the sight of the man. Fritz, whom he had stationed as the Herald in Asagrim, stood there to receive him.

“Why have you left your post at Asagrim?”

“The Acting Family Head dispatched me. He reasoned that since Your Highness is escorting a massive population unfamiliar with Imperial customs, you would require my specific expertise.”

A Herald’s role centered on diplomacy—entering foreign cultures solo to facilitate negotiations. Consequently, their knack for interpreting and navigating alien social structures was unmatched by any standard clerk.

“Overseeing settlers isn’t strictly my mandate, but he insisted I would manage it with more finesse than the other bureaucrats, so he sent me ahead to support Your Highness.”

“Good heavens, that man overthinks everything.”

Despite his dry remark, Lucian couldn’t suppress a grin. A hallmark of a great leader is the capacity to deploy existing talent when a perfect specialist is missing. In that regard, Hans’s intuition was flawless. He had sent a diplomat seasoned in cross-cultural dialogue rather than a cold administrator.

If he had been just a bit more mature, he wouldn’t have fallen into Dominic’s trap… the timing was simply poor.

It was regrettable, but character is forged in the fire. Though it was a harrowing ordeal, Hans would undoubtedly emerge stronger because of it.

Pushing the thought aside, Lucian turned to Fritz. “What is the status in Asagrim? Any developments of note?”

“Following Your Highness’s directives, we have granted sole trading privileges to the Dominic Merchant Group and are conducting all business via credit.”

“And the Dominic Group or the rival guilds haven’t voiced any complaints?”

“There was some minor squabbling over the monopoly, but they have been unnervingly compliant regarding the credit lines. Candidly, it smells of a trap.”

Fritz knit his brows, clearly baffled. Regardless of the collateral, merchants are typically terrified of credit. Countless people take goods on loan only to vanish or deny the debt. Yet, the Dominic Merchant Group remained perfectly composed despite the mountain of debt accumulating.

“In my view, I suspect they are masking a larger plot. Please exercise caution.”

“There is no need for concern. I am already aware of their end-game.”

“Pardon? What exactly…?”

“It ruins the surprise if I reveal it now. You will witness it soon enough. Regardless, is there space remaining in Asagrim? I intend to move this entire group there if it’s feasible.”

Lucian let his playful demeanor fade, replaced by a focused intensity.

“Hmm, I doubt we can accommodate everyone. A significant number of new pioneers arrived during Your Highness’s absence.”

“What about dispersing them throughout the neighboring lands?”

“That is achievable. The voids left by the peasants we relocated from the Calix domains have not been entirely replenished.”

“Excellent. Proceed with that plan.”

Lucian summoned Einar and instructed him to pick the individuals to be sent to the outlying territories. If they had to be separated, it was crucial to keep social circles intact. Splitting families or close companions at random would only harvest resentment and chaos later.

“I grant you full jurisdiction over the five tribes. Organize and station the people as you see fit. Consult the former chieftains if necessary.”

“As you command, my Lord.”

“Helen and Marius, stay here and clarify the situation so those leaving don’t panic. It would be a disaster if they felt I was discarding them.”

“We will provide the necessary reassurance to prevent any unrest.”

“Fritz, coordinate with Einar on tribal nuances, but ensure Helen or Marius is in the room. If it’s just the two of you, things might get lost in translation.”

“Understood.”

Following Lucian’s crisp commands, his lieutenants bowed as one. After finalizing the logistical details, Lucian gathered the contingent bound for Asagrim and resumed the trek. With the minor hurdles cleared, only the primary objective remained.

“The rest of us are returning to Asagrim. Brace yourselves.”

“Yes!”

Amidst the resounding shouts of his men, Lucian gazed toward Asagrim. It was time for the Master of the White Castle to reclaim his seat.

—

Einar carefully picked the people to be relocated from the five tribes, sparing only the Blue Dragon Tribe. He drew the bulk of the group from the Red Wolf Tribe. The tribesfolk, suddenly being pulled away from the main body, were distraught.

“Why are we being forced to stay behind?”

“The capital where the King resides lacks the capacity for everyone, so this is the only way.”

“Then why us? We wish to stay at the King’s side as well!”

“I am certain everyone feels that way. The issue stems from the conduct of your representative.”

“What are you implying?”

“The chieftain who once led you was remarkably disrespectful to the King. He looked as though he was ready to rally his followers and strike at the King’s life at any moment.”

“…!”

“Since I cannot distinguish between a conspirator and a loyal subject, I have no choice but to group you all together.”

He spoke with conviction, but it was largely a fabrication. What did a chieftain’s pride have to do with the common folk? However, if he didn’t provide a reason for their misfortune, hatred would simmer. The key was to control where that hatred landed.

“I took no pleasure in this. If you seek someone to blame, look to the chieftain you once followed.”

“…Curse it!”

The tribespeople, barred from following the King, stomped the ground in fury. Even in a tribal society, they understood the mechanics of power. Proximity to the throne meant prosperity. Being pushed away from Lucian meant their future prospects were being slashed.

“Chieftain, you worthless fool!”

“Was your oath of loyalty just a lie?”

“Exactly what did you say to provoke the King!?”

“No, I wasn’t the only one who was defiant!”

Predictably, the collective rage was channeled toward the former leader who had allegedly insulted the King. Broindolf, the former head of the Red Wolf Tribe, was nearly driven mad by the absurdity of it. It wasn’t just him; every chieftain had put up a fight, so why was he being singled out?

“The others were just as bad! Everyone did the same thing!”

“So, you confess to being insolent to the King?”

“No, that is…”

“Look! He can’t even deny it!”

“This is your doing!”

But Broindolf’s protests were drowned out. Whether the others were guilty was irrelevant; if he had simply acted with decorum, this opening wouldn’t have existed. To the tribespeople, Broindolf was the catalyst for their exile, regardless of the logic.

The former leaders of the other tribes watched the scene with cold sweat, seeing Broindolf become the sacrificial lamb.

If we slip up, could that be our fate?

Undoubtedly. The King would turn us into targets without a second thought if it served his purpose.

…To hell with ambition. I should just keep my head down for the rest of my days.

The former chieftains resolved to bury any remaining sparks of power-lust. If they tried to claw back their old influence, they stood to lose the final shreds of dignity they possessed.

Having completed the internal purge without lifting a finger, Lucian rode toward the White Castle of Asagrim. It was time to deal with the trespassers who had upended his home while he was away.