Chapter 35: Saka’s Civil War (2)

A few days later,

“It’s a disaster. The weather is in chaos. The crops of the wheat-growing clans have all died, the pastures have dried up, and there’s no food for the horses and livestock. Even the rivers have dried up, making it hard to find drinking water!”

An abnormal climate swept across the great plains from the Akalek Mountains, the northernmost part of the continent, also known as the sacred mountains.

The cold wind, which had always been confined to the mountains, now swept across the entire northern region, bringing great calamity.

The pastures were devastated, and the riverbanks were visibly dried up. 

The lack of food for the horses and livestock led to mass slaughter, and the scarcity of drinking water caused many to suffer from thirst.

Faced with this unprecedented crisis, all members of the Saka were at a loss.

Thus, a meeting was convened not for camaraderie and exchange, but for survival.

“What on earth is happening? Can someone explain?”

“We don’t know either. It’s an unprecedented celestial phenomenon.”

But while it was called a meeting, it had devolved into a blame session over the staff that governed weather and religion.

They had lived devoutly according to the will of Tengri. 

Despite material shortages, they had always been content and participated faithfully in ceremonies praising the heavens.

So why had such a trial befallen the tribe? 

They couldn’t comprehend the will of the gods.

Was their faith insufficient? 

They speculated on various possibilities, but no answers came, leaving the staff’s priests frustrated.

“We have no choice. Let’s resort to plunder.”

“With the Succession Duke watching us closely, do you think we can handle provoking them? We suffered greatly last time.”

“But what else can we do? Is there another way?”

“We still have some dried food from the slaughter. Let’s hold out for now. We’ll find a way.”

“…Let’s hope so.”

But they didn’t know how long this disaster would last.

*

Endless natural disasters drained people’s vitality, leaving them barely able to survive day by day.

“…I’m hungry, I have no strength.”

“Do you need help?”

It was then.

Strangers from the southern lands, unknown to them, arrived in the land of the Spear tribe.

For some reason, these strangers came bearing the supplies they desperately needed.

At first, the Spear tribe eyed these mysterious strangers with suspicion.

“Kid, what’s your name?”

“I’m not a kid. I’m destined to be a great warrior.”

“Great warrior, huh? At your age, you should be eating well. Can you do that with what you have?”

Children, who had been given dried, tough jerky from past slaughters to stave off hunger, were now offered freshly baked bread by the strangers, who smiled at them.

“Mom said not to take things from strangers.”

“But it looks so delicious.”

Initially, they refused, but resisting the repeated temptations wasn’t easy.

The savory smell spread throughout the village, drawing people’s attention.

Starting with the children, the strangers began to expand their influence by sharing food.

This soon reached the ears of Samarat, the chieftain of the Spear tribe.

What is their purpose? 

What are they doing in my land?

He decided to confront the strangers directly.

“What is your purpose here?”

Outwardly, their actions seemed benevolent, but Samarat knew better.

There’s no such thing as a free favor. 

The strangers candidly revealed their true intentions.

“We’re looking for something. Ancient texts on old spells. If you hand them over, we’ll provide you with whatever you need. If you don’t trust us, we’ll pay upfront.”

They stated their purpose and boldly requested a trade.

Had they lied or been deceitful, Samarat would have driven them out immediately. 

But their honesty made him reconsider.

“…Books? Is that all you want?”

“Yes, that’s all. To help you overcome this crisis, right?”

“…Let me think about it. Give me a few days.”

“Hoho, don’t make us wait too long.”

After they left, Samarat convened another tribal meeting. 

The agenda was whether to hand over the spell books in exchange for the needed support.

At first, he thought it was simple. 

If a few books could save them from this crisis, it seemed like a good deal.

But reality wasn’t so straightforward.

“The ancient spell books are sacred relics of Tengri. How can we give them to outsiders?”

“We’re about to starve to death! What does religion matter now? We need to survive today!”

“What did you just say? That’s blasphemy!”

“Blasphemy? What good is it if we’re dead? If the priests had done their job, would this crisis have happened?”

Since the strangers’ arrival, the Saka had split into two factions.

Fundamentalists and pragmatists.

Represented by the Staff and Spear tribes, even the elders were divided, escalating tensions.

“You blasphemous fool!”

“Have your brains turned to stone from reading scriptures?”

“Enough! Stop this!”

This wasn’t what he had called the meeting for.

He just wanted to discuss a possible solution, but it had turned into this.

Rubbing his temples, Samarat declared the meeting adjourned and left.

Honestly, he was frustrated.

What’s the big deal about a few books? 

A little flexibility would be good.

He knew it was a sacrilegious thought, but he couldn’t help it.

“The opposition is too strong. The trade seems impossible.”

“This is disappointing. We came with good intentions, but to see you all fighting like this… We’re not just giving things away; we’re offering a fair trade.”

The strangers soon packed up and prepared to leave the steppe.

Good, leave quickly.

Without options, the conflict might dissipate.

But that decision was soon undone.

“Samahat! Are you okay? Snap out of it!”

His son had suddenly fallen ill.

With the tribe’s healers unable to diagnose the illness, the strangers, who were about to leave, came to say their final goodbyes.

“We’ll take our leave now. But is something wrong? You look deeply troubled.”

“My son has fallen ill. We can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

“That’s unfortunate. One of our party is a healer. Would you like him to take a look?”

Desperate, Samarat agreed.

To his surprise,

“This illness, we’ve seen it before. It recently spread in the empire.”

“Really? Can you treat it?”

“It’s possible, but the medicine is rare.”

The spell books.

If you hand them over, we’ll cure him.

And we’ll provide the supplies we promised.

…But this time, you pay upfront.

We’ve already made many concessions.

Samarat agonized.

He couldn’t sleep that night.

After a sleepless night, he made his decision.

Taking his son, he led his guards westward.

To the temple of the Staff tribe.

No one would get hurt.

He just needed to take a few items.

“What are you doing? Ugh!”

“Stay down. This will be over soon.”

Easily subduing the Staff’s warriors, Samarat took the spell books and stood before the strangers.

“Keep your promise.”

“Of course.”

True to their word, the strangers didn’t lie.

His son, who had been on the brink of death, quickly recovered after taking their medicine.

Soon, his son was healthy enough to return to the training grounds.

The strangers left all their supplies behind, promising to continue providing what was needed, and departed from the Spear tribe.

In a single day, they had gained material abundance. 

With the supplies the strangers would send, the entire tribe could survive the year.

“You blasphemous fools! How can you call yourselves children of Saka?”

As expected, criticism rained down on Samarat.

No, I made the right choice.

At first, he thought everyone would change their minds once they received the supplies.

…It might take longer for the stubborn Staff tribe.

Had he been too optimistic?

He never expected things to escalate so dramatically.

The tragedy began with a shocking death.

Samarat, the Spear chieftain, found his young son Samaha dead in the middle of the night.

His body was covered in wounds, a gruesome sight.

“Samaha, wake up. Samaha!”

It was futile. 

He had done everything to save his son.

Who could have done this? 

The strangers? 

They had left long ago.

The only suspect was the Staff tribe.

Those fanatics must have done this to punish him for defying their doctrine.

“Was this necessary? Answer me! Is this truly Tengri’s will?”

“We know nothing of this!”

The Staff tribe denied it, but the trust between the two tribes was already shattered.

Betrayed by Samarat, the Staff saw the Spear as untrustworthy.

With Samaha’s death, calls for revenge against the Staff grew within the Spear tribe.

Other tribes, observing the situation, sympathized with Samarat’s loss and tacitly supported the Spear’s stance.

Sensing the tension, the Staff tribe began to arm and fortify themselves.

“There must be some misunderstanding. We can’t fight among ourselves.”

“Foolish Argin, are you siding with them just because you’re related by marriage?”

Argin, who saw himself as Saka’s protector, tried to mediate but failed.

Samarat suspected Argin of siding with the Staff due to their familial ties. 

Dialogue was impossible.

The Spear tribe began attacking the Staff’s village, escalating the conflict into full-scale war.

Thus, the long-standing friendship and alliance crumbled.

The Saka Civil War.

The first and last civil war in Saka, sparked by the conflict between the Staff and Spear tribes.

Unsure of what to do, other tribes watched from the sidelines.

If this continued, the outnumbered Staff tribe would face annihilation. 

The Shield tribe sided with the Staff, opposing the Spear.

The clash between the Shield, Saka’s most powerful single tribe, and the Spear, the second strongest, left deep scars across the northern steppe.

Despite this, the situation seemed to favor the Shield.

True to their reputation as Saka’s strongest, the Shield tribe pushed back the Spear’s warriors, leading to a stalemate.

“Let’s talk. Something’s not right.”

Multiple wounds in the middle of the night, yet no one heard any screams? 

It was too suspicious.

But Samarat wouldn’t listen.

“I have nothing to say. Pay the price.”

Out of nowhere, the Spear warriors began arming themselves with well-crafted weapons.

The difference in armament shifted the battlefield.

In an instant, the Shield tribe was pushed back.

Arsakes, the capital of the Shield tribe.

The Spear warriors descended from all sides. 

In the chaos, Argin couldn’t even ensure his family’s safety.

“Foolish Argin. Now you’ll know the pain of losing a child.”

Samarat’s elite guard advanced through the refugee lines.

“Take Anes and head south. You must survive!”

Anes’s mother, Aya, split the group.

She would rather die than let her daughter perish.

Aya willingly became the decoy. 

She forced her reluctant daughter to leave, sending her south to the Bow tribe.

Samarat would never imagine the girl had gone to the Bow tribe.

Perso, the Bow chieftain, had sided with the Spear out of respect for their grief.

Any parent would understand the pain of losing a child. 

They had only observed, not directly intervened.

She believed he wouldn’t turn away her child.

Watching her daughter disappear over the horizon, Aya sighed in relief.

“Staff witch, you deceived the Shield and fueled this war. Now you’ll pay.”

Samarat’s spear pierced Aya’s heart.

A spurt of blood arced and spread around.

Thus, the Shield chieftain’s family met a tragic end.