Wandering Badger Tribe

Chapter 19: The Wandering Badger Tribe

On the training grounds of the Gallop Plains, a squad of knights was traversing the hills. Yesterday, Greyhound took Redsand out for his first independent scouting mission and discovered several closely clustered camps less than 20 kilometers to the east, spaced less than 6 kilometers apart.

They were distributed between a tributary of the Gallop River and the main northern stream. The central camp was the largest, estimated to house dozens of barbarian cavalry assistants. Given Landen's current strength, he could only avoid its sharp edge, while the smaller camps nearby might offer an opportunity.

Landen was no longer timid; he dared to flatten small camps directly, but he had to be cautious with larger ones, especially those close enough to reach in a few strides.

No matter how bold Landen was, he was not one to take unnecessary risks.

"Tonight's dinner was so interesting," Greyhound said, still savoring the performance by the two groups of magic-less people before the campfire dinner. Although the songs were the same, the Baron Gallop's Territory was a place severely lacking in entertainment.

These magic-users had nothing to do at night but sleep. Now, Landen had brought them two activities: listening to songs and raiding camps, which had greatly enriched the knights' evening lives.

"Indeed, that song you composed is truly fantastic," Raul said, the simple yet catchy melody echoing in his mind.

"I'm glad everyone likes it," Landen said, feeling happy. After the initial attempt, his songs were a huge success. It wasn't just the subjects who had volunteered for the competition; even the old residents of the barony and the families of the knights were singing them. "I think I should find them more to do; they shouldn't just wait for me to assign work."

"You're right. We knights have to go on raids at night, while these subjects just get to sleep," Greyhound complained. But Landen knew this was just frustration over their current inability to launch a frontal assault on the barbarians.

"My Lord, I think we are being too cautious. If several tribes have gathered together, it means the strength within the tribes has been drained, and those left behind are merely huddling together for safety," said Dannit, who understood the barbarians better than anyone else present.

"You are quite right. If we were only facing one medium-sized tribe, I would already dare to fight them head-on. But now there are several. I'm just afraid they might run away, hahaha," Landen said, projecting a certain confidence.

"Hahaha, you're right. These barbarians are now meat on our chopping block."

"Exactly, let's take back everything they've plundered over the years."

"That's right."

The knights kept echoing Landen, yet Landen noticed that Albert had fallen silent.

Since yesterday, Albert had been somewhat distracted. Landen didn't know what was on his mind, but he hoped it wasn't anything too heavy. "Albert? What are you thinking about?"

"Ah?... Oh... I was thinking... thinking about why these tribes would be so close to each other." Albert's reply was clearly not what he was truly thinking about, but Landen didn't press the issue.

Landen found it quite normal; after all, he was always prone to letting his mind wander. For instance, during dinner just now, he had already been thinking about his next song.

Finally, the group spotted the cluster of camps. They were to the west of the camps, which were scattered from west to east and then north—five or six in total. The central camp was slightly larger than the one Dannit had described, while the surrounding ones were all small.

To the southeast of these camps stood a large earthen mound, looking hazy from their western vantage point.

In the end, Landen chose the small camp furthest from the central one—a tiny encampment with only six tents.

Once the knights were ready, they prepared to charge. Watching his subordinates itching for action, Landen found himself thinking about how, just seven days ago, he had launched his first raid on a barbarian tribe. The scale was similar to this one, and everyone had been incredibly nervous back then.

At that time, they were even afraid that if the raid failed, they would face retaliation, so they had packed up their main camp, ready to migrate at any moment.

The black horses lined up neatly. Unlike previous raids, Landen had brought all the newly joined magic-users along, increasing the squad size by five and making the formation look quite impressive.

The knights rode forward, their black horses transitioning from a walk to a trot, gradually picking up speed.

The barbarian camp's dogs began to bark, but the sound wasn't very loud. At this moment, no one emerged from the tents. Landen didn't even lower the faceplate of his helmet.

Is this camp too lax? Landen wondered. Even in the smallest tribes before, someone would have come out to greet us by now.

Watching the silent camp in the distance, the knights slowed from a gallop to a trot, and then to a crawl. By the time they reached the entrance, they were almost at a standstill. Still, no one emerged from the tents, a scene so strange that it made Landen suspect a trap.

"An ambush?" Landen whispered. Unlikely. Are they waiting inside the tents? Even with spears, they wouldn't stand a chance against charging cavalry sabers.

The group had run for nothing for three hundred meters, lingering at the camp entrance. By now, even the dogs in the camp had stopped barking.

Landen looked at Raul and Greyhound; neither had encountered such a situation before and naturally didn't know what to do. At this point, Greyhound spoke up. "I'll go first!" He then kicked open the camp gate and rode inside.

The others followed in succession. Faced with such an eerie situation, everyone was confused but not particularly afraid—at worst, it was just an empty camp.

The low-level knights each approached a tent, finding a reserve knight and a magic-user as assistants. The magic-users used their sabers to lift the tent flaps while the knights prepared to storm in.

Greyhound took the lead, naturally heading for the largest pointed tent. The person lifting the flap for him was a magic-user who had been rescued a few days prior.

The magic-user slowly pried open the entrance with his saber, while Greyhound kept his own blade ready to strike.

As the flap opened a crack, Greyhound saw a pair of terrified eyes—a woman's. The tent was too low; although it could barely accommodate someone three meters tall, the interior of the pointed tent was very cramped.

Greyhound sat on his horse, peering through the slit in the flap. He saw no large figures inside. To search thoroughly, he would have to dismount, but the tent was so small that a single glance confirmed there were no magic-users inside.

"Everyone inside, come out!" Greyhound shouted. The other knights had similar experiences; they saw no barbarians in their respective tents, only women, children, and the elderly.

"So, we just picked up a camp for nothing?" Landen was now sitting inside the largest tent. Because it wasn't very large—unlike the round, yurt-like tents they had captured before—this tent was merely triangular and no more than four meters at its peak. The interior was so small that it became crowded as soon as a magic-user entered.

"Yes. According to these magic-less people, the four barbarian cavalrymen remaining in their tribe were called away by the Wandering Badger Tribe in the center during the day."

"They actually gathered together," Landen felt a headache coming on. If he could pick them off one by one, he would have some confidence, but now that the barbarian cavalry had converged, the Wandering Badger Tribe must have forty to fifty of them. He couldn't possibly win against that.

However, they had just occupied this camp. If they forced a move, he feared the magic-less people would escape and report them. If they stayed, the four cavalrymen might return at any moment. Landen was now caught in a dilemma.

"Uncle Albert, it seems we can't take down this Wandering Badger Tribe. I think we should move this camp tomorrow, head west to regroup with the main camp, and then migrate the entire territory south to avoid them." Landen felt a bit flustered.

Although things had gone smoothly before, that was only because he was fighting weak enemies. Before every battle, Landen would calculate the risks to ensure they were far outweighed by the rewards. Now, facing a powerful tribe with so many uncertainties, Landen lacked confidence.

"Are you worried because there are too many of them?"

"Yes. If the fact that these people were taken away wasn't a coincidence, it means the nearby barbarian cavalry have all concentrated in that Wandering Badger Tribe," Landen said, voicing his suspicion.

"All our previous victories were achieved by outnumbering the enemy, or by catching them off guard."

"True, but we have too few people now. Even if every magic-user we have were to mobilize, it would be impossible to fight off forty or fifty barbarians."

"Indeed." Albert agreed with Landen. He knew that their current favorable situation could be overturned in a single stroke, and unlike Landen, Albert felt a deeper sense of duty toward the Gallop Family.

"Then that's settled. I'll tell the others today that we'll pack up this camp first thing tomorrow morning, before the Wandering Badger Tribe realizes what's happening."

Landen looked at Albert, even wanting to suggest that they take the non-magic users and slip away first, but he felt that would damage his image as a lord. Landen now held high prestige in the hearts of his people, and he had developed an idol's burden.

In the early morning, Landen felt somewhat restless. The previous attacks had gone too smoothly, causing him to misjudge the situation.

The only thing to be thankful for now was that they hadn't attacked the Wandering Badger Tribe yesterday; otherwise, it truly would have been like throwing an egg against a rock.

As Diyang rose, Landen ordered everyone to prepare to break camp. Landen looked toward the large mound in the south. It was dozens of kilometers away, yet it stood out so abruptly.

Instinctively, Landen felt they should move the camp to that mound. The terrain of the hundred-meter-high mound was complex, and it looked like a place that could hide a large number of people.

Just as everyone was busy and nearing the end of their packing, a troop of barbarian cavalry rode over from the main camp of the Wandering Badger Tribe.

Raul saw the cavalry and assumed that yesterday's raid had been exposed; he prepared to draw his sword along with the other knights.

"Don't move, let's hear what they have to say." Landen, however, felt that if the Wandering Badger Tribe really wanted to attack them, there would be no need to send only this many people.

"Which tribe are you from?" the lead barbarian cavalryman asked as he approached.

"The Gallop Tribe." This was Raul's reply; the name of the tribe had been decided by Landen beforehand.

Landen had been terrified of encountering a large force of cavalry, so he had prepared information and methods of response in advance, ensuring that both Raul and Albert, who could speak with a barbarian accent, had learned them.

"Did you just arrive here?" The barbarian pointed at the camp.

"Yes, we just arrived this morning." Raul reacted quickly; it seemed his cover hadn't been blown yet.

It was Landen's order to break camp that saved them; all the camp's belongings were packed up, and the barbarians couldn't tell if they were about to leave or had just arrived.

"Did you see the original camp that was here?"

"Ah?" Raul glanced at the non-magic users around him. These people had no intention of exposing them. "We didn't see anything. When we arrived, we felt this camp was quite flat, so we just set up here."

"I see. We are messengers from the Wandering Badger Tribe over there." The messenger pointed toward the Wandering Badger camp. "Our leader has ordered that all barbarian men from every tribe in the vicinity must come to the camp. You few, come with us!"

At this moment, everyone was looking at Landen, whether intentionally or not. They were waiting for his command; the moment Landen gave a clear order, they would immediately strike down the cavalrymen before them and flee together.

"May I ask, what is the leader calling everyone there for?" Landen spoke up, mimicking a barbarian accent.

"Heh, what else? To treat everyone to a feast and a celebration." The cavalryman said it lightly, but neither Landen nor anyone else believed him.

The group of twenty-some horsemen slowly headed toward the main camp of the Wandering Badger Tribe. From a distance, it was the largest camp Landen had ever seen.

In the center of the camp were several large tents, each as big as the main tent of the medium-sized tribe Landen had previously conquered. Surrounding the center was a ring of tents that would also be considered large in other tribes, and only further out were dozens of pointed tents.

Outside the main gate of the camp, there was another group of tents. Bonfires were surrounded by several tents, and a bustling crowd was eating around the fires.

"Don't worry, we'll have breakfast as soon as we arrive," the lead cavalryman explained. "Our leader, Lord Darkeye of the Wandering Badger Tribe, said that you small tribes have it very hard. With little grain and few long-haired sheep left, you probably won't last until the Grey Goose Tribe returns. As brothers of the Grey Goose Tribe, we of the Wandering Badger Tribe should help you all!"

"Oh, that is truly wonderful," Raul replied. "I suppose many people have already arrived? It looks very lively outside your camp gate!"

"That it is." At this moment, the cavalrymen climbed a small slope, and the lead barbarian pointed to several small tribes in the distance. "Do you see them? The riders from their camps are already eating and drinking to their hearts' content in our camp. Our Lord Darkeye said he would slaughter a sheep every day to provide for everyone!"

"That's great!" Landen said, then began to calculate whether this Wandering Badger Tribe really had enough food to supply so many barbarian cavalrymen from other tribes.

These cavalrymen had huge appetites and a high demand for meat; it was very difficult for a medium-sized tribe to sustain this.

If such a supply was unsustainable, it meant that this Lord Darkeye had a similar line of thinking to the Grey Goose Tribe—gathering the resources of surrounding barbarian tribes to attack larger ones.

However, come to think of it, I seem to have the same idea, Landen thought. In that case, I shouldn't laugh at them. I can just take this opportunity to visit and learn from them; I just don't know how to get out of here in one piece.