Chapter 9: Internal Conflict

Monteiro and Uli gazed solemnly at the battlefield ahead, a bitter taste lingering in their hearts and mouths. The low plain before them had become a graveyard for the finest warriors of both sides. Just one week into the war, over eight thousand soldiers from each side had lost their lives here, and the stench of blood filled every crack in the land. Mass graves and burial pits behind them were piled with the corpses of brave warriors. If it weren’t for the early winter season, the threat of plague alone would have been enough to destroy an entire race.

Although the warriors of the Karon and Kabo tribes, along with the Three-Tooth tribe, held a slight advantage in equipment and weapons, it was undeniable that their opponents were superior in numbers and combat strength. The combined forces of the two Karon tribes and the Three-Tooth tribe still lagged behind those of the Karo tribe and the Three-Wa tribe.

Two thunderbirds cried out as they flew overhead, seemingly searching for their fallen comrades. A stumbling earth dragon struggled to move through the bushes at the edge of the lowlands; the fierce battle that had lasted over three hours seemed to have left it unable to even determine its own camp’s location. Meanwhile, the logistics personnel on both sides began collecting corpses and rescuing severely wounded soldiers, clearing the battlefield for the next battle.

The same soldiers, the same mounts, the same aerial attacks—this, the most intense and brutal battle since the outbreak of strife among the barbarians, finally came to an end.

It appeared to be another evenly matched fight. Judging by the losses, the number of dead and severely wounded on both sides was roughly equal. Both sides had deployed over fifteen thousand infantrymen in this major battle, yet neither achieved its goals. More than six thousand corpses lay scattered across the battlefield, with the occasional groan from dying soldiers proving they were not yet defeated.

Both sides’ reserve forces had entered combat to prevent the other from launching a surprise attack, but they both realized that another battle would end in the same way as this one.

“Monteiro, if this continues, we won’t be able to hold on. The Three-Wa tribe has mobilized all its strong men, and the Karo tribe is also conducting a final nationwide mobilization. If we don’t act now, we’ll fail and become their slaves.”

Uri was in a terrible mood. He had thought that leveraging his advantages in equipment and weapons would allow him to effectively fend off the attacks from the Karo and Siva tribes while drawing in the Khat tribe. But he never expected the Karo and Siva tribes to be so determined, even willing to fight to the death. Meanwhile, the Khat tribe had only mobilized for war yet shown no clear stance, which was quite worrying.
“Then we must mobilize the entire population!” Monterey shouted angrily without hesitation. “We must not fail!”
“And what good is victory if we lose all our able-bodied men from our tribes, unable to recover for twenty years? What’s the point of such a victory?” Uri replied gloomily.
“Are we supposed to just surrender?” Monterey demanded angrily.
“I think perhaps we should retreat slightly,” Uri said coldly.
“Retreat?! Where to? After retreating, we won’t find a better defensive position than we have now, and we’ll also lose our trade route to the Flanders region!” Monterey cried out in frustration, thinking Uri must have lost his mind.
“Let it be lost! We’ve accumulated enough supplies. Losing this trade route for a while won’t cause much harm. But if the Karo and Siva tribes control it, they’ll realize they can capture Gdańsk Fortress and enter the Flanders Valley, making it even easier for them to obtain supplies than fighting us,” Uri said coldly.
“You mean lure the Karo and Siva tribes to the Flanders Valley? Let them fight there?” Monterey swallowed hard and asked hesitantly.
“Why not? Komer broke his promise to us first. He promised to give us enough help, but what has he given us so far? His army? His magicians?” Uri’s expression turned fierce.

“Uri, we never really expected him to send an army to help us, did we? Those mortals have always hoped that we mountain people would fight each other to the point of mutual destruction so they could reap the benefits. Does he think we don’t know their intentions?” Monterrey paused for a moment before smiling bitterly. “We only hoped he could provide us with more supplies. To be honest, Komer has basically met our demands. But we never expected the Karo and Siva tribes to mobilize their entire forces to fight us. They’re trying to exhaust all resources; ultimately, it might be the unassuming Katt tribe that benefits.”

Monterrey’s words made Uri see this seemingly rough and impulsive leader of the Karon tribe in a new light. He had always thought Monterrey had risen to the position of Karon tribe leader solely through his military strength, so he hadn’t valued the leader’s wisdom much and often approached matters with an intent to exploit him. But now it seemed that those who could become leaders of large tribes like Karon were by no means ordinary in terms of wisdom, at least when it came to their insightful views on the situation in the north.

“Monterrey, with the situation having reached this point, we can only retreat. Otherwise, once the enemy’s reinforcements arrive, it will be difficult for us to escape. We can’t worry about others now. As the lord of Flanders, Komer can’t expect us to help him defend it. If he ignores this, he can only blame his own carelessness. We never made any promises.”

“That’s the only option now. Hopefully, Komer is prepared. It’s not that we don’t want to help them—we’re powerless to do so,” Monterrey said softly.

The retreat of the allied forces of the Siva and Luka tribes took the Karo and Siva allied forces by surprise. The struggle in these lowlands had lasted for over a week. To be precise, the Karo and Siva allied forces hadn’t gained any advantage, yet their opponents withdrew without reason, retreating as far as 200 kilometers away and even giving up control of the routes leading to Flanders.

After thorough reconnaissance and careful probing, the swarming forces of the Karo and Siva tribes rushed forward swiftly, their military momentum pressing straight toward the Gdansk fortress.

Ilot also didn’t expect Monteyre and Uli to retreat without even saying goodbye, exposing the exit to the Flanders Valley to their enemies right away. It was a vicious move—deliberately drawing the enemy’s attention southward, forcing their own side, which wanted to stay out of it for now, to confront the enemy head-on.

With the mindset of the Caro and Siva tribes, they would never ignore a gateway to a treasure trove like the Gdańsk Fortress and leave it unopened. The current Gdańsk Fortress was far inferior to its defense system under Iberian control, both in scale and strength. Perhaps the only difference was the defenders.

The rapid changes in the situation caught Ilot off guard. He hadn’t even had time to communicate with the Karon and Kabo tribes before things reached this point. Clearly, Komer’s earlier plan to let the barbarians fight each other out had been seen through. The barbarians weren’t fools, especially Monteyre and Uli, who had used tactics to drag their entire group into trouble.

With less than three thousand men trying to engage in a battle against forces ten times larger, the outcome was predictable. No matter how powerful the magicians or knights were, against such a fragile defense system like Gdańsk Fortress, their advantages might not even be enough to prevent the fortress from falling.

Damn it, Monteyre and Uli—those two were too cruel. Ilot hadn’t expected his first time taking charge alone, skilled only in warfare, to encounter such a terrible situation. Even the most optimistic and confident Dragumo didn’t think their side could win under these circumstances. Without the help of the barbarians, this war was already meaningless.

“What should I do?” After hesitating for a long time, Ilot could only sigh and tear open a sealed wax capsule prepared by Komer before he left. It hurt his pride, but the situation couldn’t wait any longer. Victory, no matter what, was better than defeat—even if this war was entirely controlled by Komer.

After silently reading the contents of the wax-sealed letter, Ilot could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed everything was as expected—Komer seemed to have everything under control, it all coming down to the distribution and transfer of interests. Ilot had to admit that compared to this former comrade, he was no longer on the same level in every aspect. Had staying in the northern fortress for two years really resulted in such a huge difference compared to Komer’s two years in exile?
The same starting point, but with a slight deviation in the wheel of fate, the outcomes change.