Chapter Ten: The Wind Is Rising

The barbarians pouring into the Caucasus like a tidal wave almost overwhelmed the checkpoints set up by the lords of the Caucasus at Bahomun! Faced with the overwhelming influx of barbarians, the hastily established checkpoints were utterly overwhelmed.

After learning secretly that their tribe had officially signed the “Treaty on Civil Rights for Mountain People” with Lord Komer of the Greater Caucasus, the impatient barbarians paid no attention to any rules of secrecy. Their longing for a better life and their yearning for their loved ones drove them back to the Cordillera Wasteland. After gathering their belongings, they brought their families and dependents, traveling from the depths of the Cordillera Wasteland—a force that could not be stopped.

By the time the Siga tribe learned of this, they were no longer able to halt this trend. The vast Cordillera Wasteland allowed anyone to pass through freely, and the warriors of the Siga tribe had no way to deal with their unarmed fellow tribesmen. Moreover, they had not received any orders to prevent these people from migrating northward.

There were no floating bridges over the Catania River like those on the Nise River. To cross the wide Catania River, one had to use the Bahomun ferry. Faced with the massive influx of people, the ferry owners were clearly unprepared. Thousands of people and countless pieces of luggage filled each ferry every day, and the ferry owners were overjoyed at the chance to earn plenty of money by taking in copper coins and silver shields.

Advertisements for labor recruitment abounded in Bahomun’s docks and town squares. With such a large pool of cheap labor, shrewd mine owners and craftsmen would not miss such an opportunity.

The road from Bahomun to Ugru was filled with groups of barbarians on the march. The few job opportunities in Bahomun’s mines and smelting workshops were far from enough to accommodate such a large crowd. Perhaps Ugru and Matdan, or even farther away places like Santiago and Muscat, were their destinations. There was also the supposedly most prosperous town in the northern part of the Greater Caucasus, Bruce Town, where countless job opportunities awaited them. Unlike ordinary immigrants, for barbarians who were not skilled in farming, only developed towns with commerce and trade were suitable places to settle.

Komer arrived in Bahomun secretly. Although he believed the Light Church could hardly spare much attention for the Caucasus at the moment, he still felt it necessary to remain low-key until he saw what was going on.

“Heinem, are these all the mountain people from your tribes?” Komer asked, frowning as he saw the barbarians gathered outside the armed checkpoint fence.

The rude half-orcs had little goodwill toward these barbarians. The half-orc warriors, clad in heavy armor and wielding long spears, shouted rudely at the mountain people who were eager to pass through, occasionally using their spears to threaten the restless barbarians. The half-orc warriors were never polite with them; they proudly displayed their armor, puffing out their chests to show off their warrior prowess. For them, it was a proud opportunity to display their dominance in front of these barbarians. Their wide, circular eyes stared at the barbarians, who seemed even more savage in their view, scanning them as if trying to identify any rebels.

Although two more checkpoints had been added, each of the four checkpoints processed only a few dozen people per hour. For the hundreds of barbarians gathered outside the fence on the makeshift barriers, this would be their first lesson in human society: to act strictly according to the laws and rules set by humans. They would have to wait patiently in line and follow order to pass through.

Heinem’s chest heaved with emotion. The arrogant behavior of the half-orc soldiers in front of his own people angered him, and it seemed the half-orc officers deliberately allowed such behavior to continue. Although his fellow tribesmen were also furious, they remained quite restrained and patient, fearing the repeated warnings before departure about obeying human laws and regulations.

“Lord, not entirely. Those gathered over there do not belong to the seven tribes covered by the treaty you signed. They are mountain people from other tribes,” Heinem said, trying to distract himself from the infuriating scene and focusing on answering Komer’s question. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you. Representatives from those tribes have also arrived in Bahomun and wish to meet with you.”

Noticing Heinem’s use of the word “meet,” Komer’s lips curled into a barely noticeable smile.

“Heinem, do you think my troubles aren’t already enough? Difanqi and the others have been waiting for me in Ugru for three days, insisting that I give them a satisfactory explanation,” Komer said coldly. “Well-known half-orcs are also putting pressure on me through various channels, arguing that the approval and implementation of the Rights Treaty will harm their interests as half-orcs. I’m caught in the middle, suffering from both sides. Do you understand how troublesome my situation is?”
Nervously licking his dry lips, Heinem had been working tirelessly to plan how to relocate the mountain people from the seven tribes and address their subsequent settlement issues, to the point of losing weight. Fortunately, many strong members of the seven tribes had already found work in the Greater Caucasus region, established themselves there, and now held legal citizenship. Although the remaining tasks were still complicated, they were much easier now, mainly concerning housing. The mountain people had far fewer demands for living conditions than ordinary people; years of living in the wild had made them accustomed to rough conditions—just a tattered tent satisfied them, and they would be grateful if they had enough bread to fill their stomachs. Now that these matters were gradually getting on track, Heinem could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“My lord, you should have anticipated these problems beforehand. For you, this isn’t a big deal. The leaders of the Sanjia tribe are just complaining that you didn’t inform them in advance. As for the half-orcs, humph, what right do they have to give orders? A few years ago, they were living worse than dogs in Leon’s mines, barely surviving under the whips of the mine owners. If it weren’t for your liberation, could they enjoy such a good life now? My lord, as long as the ordinary people have no objections, nothing becomes a problem.”
Heinem understood Komer’s mindset quite well. In fact, the half-orcs hadn’t made any serious complaints. In the face of Komer’s absolute authority, they could at most whisper among themselves, not daring to express even the slightest grumble. As Heinem said, as long as Komer’s rule in the Caucasus—based on the consent of the ordinary people—remained intact, everything would proceed according to Komer’s plans.

Komer glanced at him, hiding the approval in his eyes. He didn’t want to reveal his admiration for him too soon. There were indeed some outstanding individuals among the barbarians—this guy was one of them. Quick-witted and adaptable, free from the inherent stubbornness of barbarians, and far from the crude ignorance of those who had just migrated from the Cordillera Wasteland—quite rare.

“Heinem, you’re oversimplifying things. The reason mortals have no objections is that your mountain folk’s arrival poses no competitive threat to them. But half-orcs are different—they’re in direct competition with you in many aspects. More importantly, they now form the core of my armed forces. I can’t ignore any voices coming from them,” Komer said insinuatingly.

“My lord, I understand what you mean. Please rest assured. Once we’re settled, our mountain warriors will report to you. You’ll see an army that’s no less formidable than the half-orcs standing before you. They will only serve you. If you order them forward, even through mountains of knives and seas of fire, they won’t back down an inch. If you order them to retreat, even if gold and jewels lie ahead, they won’t even glance at them. Believe me—I swear it on the honor of a true mountain man,” Heinem said, subtly observing Komer’s expression as he spoke confidently.

“Heh, Heinem. I even doubt if you’re really a mountain man. Your tone is exactly like that of a mortal—full of temptation and provocation. Is there really such a wonderful thing waiting for me?” A faint mocking smile appeared on Komer’s face. “Heinem, you still haven’t mastered the hypocrisy of mortals. If a mortal wanted to express such intentions, he’d be more subtle, luring you into a trap without you realizing it. But you just cover it up a little. Well, you’re already quite perceptive. It seems integration into the Caucasus is just a matter of time for you.”

Komer deftly shifted the topic away with a dismissive reply. He didn’t directly address Heinem’s point. Maintaining necessary dignity would help him gain more in future negotiations, so it was crucial for Heinem to take his stance back with him.

“My lord, they…” Heinem grew anxious.

“Alright, Haim, let’s put aside matters unrelated to our topic for now. I want a clear answer: when will the 2,000 Mountain Warriors be able to stand under the Caucasus flag?” Komer waved his hand to interrupt him.