A young girl who had overcome failures in the kingdom and reached the Shield Tribe.
The reality Werhe faced was yet another cold rejection.
“Get lost.”
“…But! Isn’t the Shield Tribe also struggling? With the outbreak of the Infectors, we must unite to survive. Please, just reconsider once more…”
“I have nothing more to say, get lost! If you keep irritating me, don’t expect to leave unscathed.”
“…I’ll take my leave, farewell.”
Though the treatment here was better than the scorn and insults she endured in the kingdom, the repeated rejections left Werhe in a daze.
Like an ancient tree withering away as pests suck its sap, the tribal alliance continued to decline under the onslaught of the Infectors.
Suddenly, the image of her friend Frennila, who had left for the imperial capital, came to mind.
‘She must have failed too.’
This was her first time venturing beyond the tribal lands.
After many hardships, she reached the kingdom, only to be met with arrogance, prejudice, and disdain.
When she secretly read romance novels from the empire or kingdom and enjoyed their culture, she hadn’t realized how pretentious and haughty they were.
Their discrimination against other races was especially severe.
Even as a diplomat, she faced scornful words.
She could only imagine how ordinary people were treated.
She heard the empire was no better, if not worse, than the kingdom.
Thus, she held no hope for good news from her friend who had gone to the imperial capital.
Instead, she worried about her friend’s safety.
Is this what it means to be utterly isolated?
Only negative thoughts filled her mind.
Her father, once the greatest warrior of the Axe Tribe, had long since fallen to old age.
Frennila’s father, the greatest warrior of the Bow Tribe, had also fallen in battle against the Infectors.
The Spear Tribe was nearly annihilated, with few survivors.
The Shield Tribe, despite the crisis, remained trapped in the past.
The golden jasmine petals, which she thought would be the solution, were impossible to obtain.
The soldiers’ morale continued to decline, and the frontline camp had reportedly collapsed.
Drowning in endless defeat, she was shocked when she arrived at the newly established frontline camp.
“W-what is this?”
Not in a negative sense, but a positive one.
Well-maintained wooden fences and barracks, high-quality weapons and armor worn by the warriors, and most importantly, the warriors all looked much better.
Had they regained their composure? It was a complete 180-degree turn from when she had left.
“Ah, you’ve finally returned.”
From afar, the voice of Erka, the chief of the Sword Tribe, reached her.
“Chief Erka, what on earth happened here?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“The situation… it looks so good.”
The atmosphere didn’t feel like a camp that had suffered repeated defeats.
Of course, as a commander, this was a good thing.
It was a good thing, but her mind couldn’t accept it without knowing the reason.
“Ah, you mean the current situation.”
Erka began to explain the person at the center of all these changes.
“The third prince from the imperial capital has arrived. He brought a significant amount of supplies. Thanks to him, we were able to turn things around.”
The imperial capital?
A prince?
What does this mean?
The only princes I know are from imperial romance novels.
‘Why would such a person come here?’
“You’re making that face too. Honestly, I was the same when I first heard. Why would a prince come to such a dangerous land?”
Erka, amused by her expression, chuckled and paused.
Hey, I’m curious, so just tell me the answer already.
“Frennila, he fell in love with her at first sight. Ignoring the emperor and his ministers’ opposition, he came all the way here. Quite a romantic story, isn’t it?”
“…Huh?”
That’s a plot straight out of a novel, isn’t it?
While I was suffering, Frennila was living like a novel’s heroine?
‘I read romance novels too!’
It wasn’t Frennila’s fault, but Werhe couldn’t help feeling unfairly treated.
“Where’s Frennila? I need to see her.”
It seemed there was much to discuss with her.
*
The prince was truly remarkable.
In just a few weeks since his arrival, he had changed so much.
The supplies he brought revitalized the entire army.
The saintess from the neighboring country he brought along healed the wounded, allowing them to return to the frontlines swiftly.
The newly joined Staff Tribe supplemented the lacking firepower, and the Heavenly Tiger system gradually stabilized, enabling more proactive responses to the war situation.
Everything was going well.
But why?
Frennila continued to feel an increasing sense of unease.
The source of her anxiety was a sense of inferiority, triggered since she met Svioha.
Unlike her own fragile appearance since arriving at the imperial capital, Svioha had made an impactful entrance, saving them from crisis.
Skilled in medicine, she even helped cure the prince’s strange symptoms, something Frennila couldn’t do.
Svioha continued to expand her presence.
Frennila sometimes wanted to spend time alone with the prince, but every time, Svioha would somehow intervene.
As if deliberately hindering her relationship with the prince.
The prince’s expression was the same.
Whenever they were alone, he seemed tense.
At first, his shy demeanor was cute and amusing, but now it felt strange.
With Svioha, his expression was different—relaxed and natural.
This couldn’t go on.
Frennila began to fear that she, being of no use, might truly lose the prince to Svioha.
Frennila felt the need to prove herself.
The Heavenly Tiger Martial Arts Tournament.
A tournament held under the prince’s leadership as part of the army’s reorganization.
The existing alliance of tribes maintained a friendly relationship but had an underlying distance.
Especially in the command structure, their methods and styles were too different to point out, so they let it be.
The winner of this tournament would become the top commander in the war against the Infectors.
While controlling all the warriors was important, Frennila valued the position itself more.
If she could attain that position, she could spend time with the prince without interference from Svioha.
And she could show the prince her impressive side—killing two birds with one stone.
The tournament was held on a day when the greatest warriors from each tribe gathered.
The ranks of the ordinary warriors were roughly set, so now it was time to determine who would stand above them.
Erka, chief of the Sword Tribe; Werhe, the strongest warrior of the Axe Tribe; Svioha, chief of the Staff Tribe; and herself.
Frennila believed in her own strength.
In a one-on-one fight, she considered herself the strongest.
Fighting Erka at close range was dangerous, but she could avoid letting him close the distance.
Svioha handled ranged attacks like her, but Frennila’s hands were faster.
In ranged combat, speed determined the winner.
Lastly, Werhe.
“Freeennila! Where are you?”
“Eh, Werhe?”
As soon as she thought of her, Werhe’s voice struck her ears.
Soon, her friend, who had journeyed far, barged into her tent without knocking, looking disheveled from her arduous journey.
But she didn’t seem to care, grabbing Frennila by the neck and shaking her, demanding answers.
“What happened in the empire? Tell me quickly, I’m getting dizzy. Hurry up!”
“W-wait, let go first, then we’ll talk.”
“Such fairy-tale-like events don’t happen in real life, do they? Honestly, when I first arrived at the kingdom, I secretly hoped for a romantic encounter with a prince! But what? The prince immediately said, ‘You tribal people probably don’t bathe often, are uneducated, and rely solely on brute strength.’ Can you believe that? How rude! It’s all prejudice, prejudice!”
She must have had a lot bottled up.
As Werhe continued to shake her without letting go, Frennila felt a headache coming.
Sighing, Frennila had no choice but to use force to calm her down.
“Calm down.”
“Ouch! Is this how you calm someone down? It hurts, I was wrong! Stop!”
Finally, Frennila released her friend’s arm.
‘Ow, she’s ridiculously strong.’
Werhe’s hands, momentarily caught by Frennila, turned pale from the lack of blood circulation.
But she didn’t give up.
Her frustration and the romantic part of her brain, nurtured by novels, yearned to hear the story.
Frennila, happy to see her old friend and in need of someone to talk to about her struggles and declining self-esteem, began to recount her embellished romantic story with the prince.
…
“This is straight out of a romance novel.”
A male protagonist who saves the female protagonist in her time of need, asking for nothing in return.
Could such a thing exist in real life?
So envious.
Why don’t I have such encounters?
‘He must be ugly. Or maybe he’s a dwarf. Or perhaps he’s impotent.’
Otherwise, the unfairness of her own struggles would make her die of frustration first.
“Frennila, I need to talk to you.”
At that moment, a man’s voice came from outside the tent.
A voice she hadn’t heard before, but it exuded an air of ‘handsome,’ making Werhe uncomfortable.
“Come in.”
With Frennila’s permission, the man revealed himself.
“Ugh, this is so unfair.”
He looked like he stepped out of a novel’s cover illustration.
If she had gone to the empire instead of the kingdom, would things have been different?
All she could do was swallow her frustration.