After Haru returned to the Iron Jaw Tribe’s camp, he had his companions distribute the food to those most in need first.
Only then did he go to find Centurion Kamal to report that Anke had a message for Chief Gros.
Upon learning this, Kamal immediately took Haru to report to Gros.
“Chief, that Lord said his conditions remain the same. As long as the Iron Jaw Tribe submits to him, he can grant you a formal title of nobility. He also guarantees that our tribe will enjoy the same equal status and treatment as the people of Hanover Province, and we will no longer have to worry about food in the winter.”
Haru relayed Anke’s words to Gros.
“The same conditions again? He really doesn’t give up, does he?”
The message Haru brought was exactly what Gros had expected.
“He wants the Iron Jaw Tribe to submit to him! What wishful thinking! Chief, we must never agree to the humans! We cannot forget how those humans forced our ancestors into that wasteland back then! We’ve all experienced the cunning of the lords here; who knows what kind of conspiracy he’s harboring!”
Kamal was the first to voice her opposition.
“Lady Kamal, I feel that the human Lord can be trusted. He’s different from other humans. I think he truly wants to coexist with us in peace!”
Because Haru had personally experienced Anke’s friendliness and kindness, he held some trust in the man’s words.
“Haru, you’re young. You don’t know that the ancestors of our Iron Jaw Tribe were forced by humans to barely survive in the Corpse Forest. Humans will never live in peace with us!”
“Enough. He’s just been charmed by the human’s sweets.”
Gros cut Kamal off and then addressed Haru.
“You may leave now. I have matters to discuss with Kamal in private.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Haru obediently withdrew, leaving the tent to Gros and Kamal.
“Kamal, I sent men to contact the chiefs of the Green Tail and Searing Claw tribes to seek reinforcements. Just now, the messenger returned with news. Both chiefs have agreed to send troops.”
As Gros spoke, he pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment.
“That’s wonderful! Chief, with the support of the Green Tail and Searing Claw tribes, we have hope of capturing the Border City! But Chief, I remember we had an agreement with those two tribes—they would only send troops after we captured the city. Since we haven’t fulfilled the agreement now, won’t we have to give them 70% of our hunting grounds…?”
Kamal’s voice surged with excitement, then slowly trailed off.
“If it were only 70%, I could still take the gamble. However, those two are greedier than bullfrogs… What they want isn’t just 70% of the hunting grounds anymore. They want our entire Iron Jaw Tribe.”
Gros let out a sigh.
“Our entire tribe!”
Kamal was shocked by the greed of the two tribal chiefs.
“That’s right. They want our Iron Jaw Tribe to ‘voluntarily’ merge into the Green Tail and Searing Claw tribes. If they are to send troops, then from that day forward, the Iron Jaw Tribe will cease to exist.”
Gros finished speaking and looked down at the map before him.
“Then, what should we do, Chief?”
Kamal looked up at Gros.
“I don’t know. Perhaps the Iron Jaw Tribe will vanish by my hand. I really am the worst chief, aren’t I, Kamal?”
Gros let out a self-deprecating, bitter laugh.
“Chief…”
“Sigh, I’m sorry, Kamal, for making you suffer alongside me. Forget it, you should go back as well. I want to think on this alone.”
Gros waved Kamal away.
“Yes, Chief. However, please do not blame yourself. You have already done everything you can.”
Kamal withdrew, leaving Gros alone in the tent.
Gros remained silent before the map for a long time. He knew that only three paths lay before him.
First, he could accept the terms of the Green Tail and Searing Claw tribes.
While they might capture the Border City, the legacy of the Iron Jaw Tribe would be completely lost.
Countless small tribes in the Corpse Forest had disappeared in exactly that way.
Second, the Iron Jaw Tribe could try to take the Border City on its own. But with a Lord like Anke there, this was essentially a dead end.
It would most likely exhaust the last of the tribe’s young strength, leaving the old, weak, and sick to be carved up by other tribes.
Third, there was Anke’s proposal to submit to him. Although the conditions Anke offered were very generous, the warnings passed down through generations told him not to trust humans.
Gros’s mind was in a state of chaos. He didn’t know which choice would provide a way out for the Iron Jaw Tribe.
He walked out of his tent and paced through the military camp, attempting to think of a new solution.
Gros saw Haru, who had previously brought Anke’s message, distributing bread to the other young soldiers. But where did their bread come from?
Gros thought for a moment and found the answer. The bread could only have come from the Lord in the Border City named Anke.
Suddenly, a sentry on guard blew a horn.
“Enemy! Enemy attack! Enemy attack!”
Panic immediately swept through the Iron Jaw Tribe camp. They were always the ones attacking others; no enemy had ever dared to provoke them proactively.
Gros could no longer worry about reinforcements. He immediately signaled the nearest Centurions to organize the soldiers and prepare a defense.
However, when Gros led the fully armed soldiers outside the camp, what they saw was not an army, but several wagons of bread and a few large wooden barrels that were steaming with an unknown contents.
“Rest easy, Chief Gros. We aren’t here to attack you. We came to bring you some warmth. I saw that there are quite a few children in your ranks and they don’t have much to eat, so I brought you some more bread.”
Anke, mounted on his warhorse, shouted from about one hundred feet away.
“Bread?”
Gros slowly lowered his weapon.
“That’s right. Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. Take it back and eat. Goodbye!”
After Anke finished speaking, he and Vera led their people back toward the New Border City, leaving the wagons of food in the snow.
“Sending us food…”
“It might be a trap, Chief,” a Centurion reminded Gros, warning him not to be fooled.
“Have Priest Kasia test for poison. If there are no issues, distribute it to everyone.”
Gros had wanted to order his men to discard the food, but then he heard the sound of gulping coming from his ranks.
He could only order Kasia to confirm its safety before distributing it.
After the food Anke had gifted was handed out, voices within the Iron Jaw Tribe favoring the human Lord Anke gradually increased.
After all, while the humans called the Iron Jaw Tribe “Barbarians,” they weren’t truly savages.
Gros could only choose to ignore it as he continued to send messengers to negotiate with the Green Tail and Searing Claw tribes.
However, he failed to secure a better result. The two tribal chiefs were in league with each other, refusing to send troops until Gros agreed to their terms.
“Sigh…”
Perhaps his only choice was to agree to that Lord.
……
The twenty-third day after the Piranha River froze.
The Iron Jaw Tribe exhausted every available soldier to launch a final assault on the New Border City.
Gros charged recklessly at the very front, facing off against Vera once more.
Just like before, he was swept off the back of his Frost Wolf with a single strike. But this time, Gros did not resist further. He chose to surrender.
“Chief! We’re coming to save you!”
Big Barton and the others tried to charge forward to rescue Gros.
“Put down your weapons! Everyone, drop your weapons and surrender! Don’t you see I’ve been captured? You bastards! Do you want me to die?”
Instead, Gros ordered them to surrender.
“Chief! We haven’t lost yet! How can we surrender?” Big Barton shouted in confusion.
“I said surrender, so surrender! I still want to live! If you still consider me your Chief, then put down your weapons!” Gros bellowed at Big Barton.
“Yes, Chief…”
Big Barton’s hand, which was gripping his weapon tightly, finally loosened in frustration.
Big Barton’s heavy club slammed into the snow, followed by the weapons of the other barbarian soldiers being discarded one after another.
A decisive battle ended in such a muddled fashion.
Vera ordered her men to confiscate the enemy’s weapons and then escorted the captives back into the New Border City.
The captives were escorted into the city together. Gros and the various Centurions were personally guarded by Vera because they were the leaders.
“You are the most cowardly Chief I have ever seen! You’re trash!”
On the way into the city, Big Barton, whose hands were bound, finally couldn’t help but roar at Gros, venting the frustration in his heart.
“Chief, you have disappointed us too much…”
“Have you considered how that human will treat us after we surrender?”
“Sigh… The Iron Jaw Tribe is finished.”
The other Centurions didn’t insult Gros directly like Big Barton had, but their words were filled with disappointment.
Faced with their questioning, Gros did not provide any answer.
“Chief, I trust your choice. I only hope that this human truly treats our Iron Jaw Tribe well,” Kamal was the only one who still held hope for Gros.
But Gros only looked at Kamal a few times and shook his head without saying a word.
Gros and the others were brought to Anke’s quarters to await his judgment.
Nearly half of the Centurions were seeing Anke’s true face for the first time.
They couldn’t believe it was such a young noble who had held them off at the Border City for over twenty days and forced their Chief to surrender proactively.
Most of them were actually defiant in their hearts, for had Gros not surrendered, they wouldn’t be here.
But Gros, who had been silent the whole way, suddenly spoke.
“Prince Anke, I speak for the entire Iron Jaw Tribe. We surrender to you. From this day forward, we submit to you and become your subjects.”
After Gros finished, he knelt before Anke in the most humble posture.
The Centurions of the Iron Jaw Tribe, except for Kamal, looked at their former Chief with eyes full of contempt.
Seeing him beg for mercy before the enemy made them want to step forward and teach this “trash” a lesson themselves, despite being in the enemy camp.
“Is this worth it?”
Anke looked at the hostile glares the Centurions were directing at Gros and questioned him.
“…”
Gros remained silent, offering no answer.
“For the sake of your tribe’s honor and future, you are willing to nail yourself to the pillar of historical shame forever? Is it worth it?” Anke pressed.
“It is,” Gros said after a momentary stun.
“Fool!”
Anke suddenly reached out and drew the side-sword from Vera’s waist, then slashed it toward Gros with force.
“Chief!”
“No!”
“Stop!”
The Centurions cried out one after another, trying to rush forward to stop Anke’s act of violence.
“…”
Gros simply closed his eyes, offering no resistance whatsoever.
The sword light flashed, but Gros was not injured. All Anke had severed were the ropes binding him.
“What I want is not a captive despised by his clansmen, but a hero who leads his people to a better life.”
Anke pulled the kneeling Gros to his feet and patted his shoulder.
“Gros, welcome to Hanover Province.”
“Thank you… thank you, His Highness.”
Hot tears welled in Gros’s eyes, and he tried to kneel again.
“Get up, no kneeling allowed!”
Anke quickly tried to pull him up, but Gros’s physique was too large, and he could barely hold him back.