Gray Goose Envoy

"My Lord, a cavalry troop is approaching."

Landen did not expect that less than an hour after Neil had gone out to scout, someone would actually arrive. Landen hurried to the camp entrance with his men, only to see a small cavalry unit coming from the south. The leader held a strange flag—a long, thin pole topped with a long strip of cloth adorned with numerous feathers.

"Neil, what is that man at the front holding?" Landen had never seen such a bizarre flag.

"Chief, that should be a messenger from the Grey Goose Tribe."

"I see. Everyone, remember: we are the Gallop Tribe. We recently merged with the Wandering Badger Tribe and are now gathering to head south to support the Grey Goose Leader." Landen gave his men a crash course on their temporary tribal identity.

Before long, the Grey Goose messenger unit reached the camp entrance. The lead Barbarian saw the Galloping Horse flag, paused, and asked Landen, "Which tribe are you from? Why have we never seen you at any of the previous alliances?"

"Messenger of the Grey Goose, we are the Gallop Tribe, from the southwest of the plains. Along the way, we heard of your Grey Goose Tribe's heroic feats in the southern human kingdoms. We joined forces with many tribes, including the Wandering Badger. During the duel, I defeated the Wandering Badger Leader and decided to lead everyone south to support the Grey Goose alliance leader." Landen recited his prepared script. Every word was technically true, though he had omitted a few less critical details.

"Oh, so it was the former Wandering Badger Tribe. No wonder this camp looked so familiar." On the Gallop Plains, the merging and splitting of tribes were common, especially during the spring and autumn seasons. The Grey Goose messenger quickly accepted Landen's explanation.

To the Barbarians, the Gallop Plains were simply known as the Great Plains, the grasslands, or home. Only the leaders of large tribes with long traditions or frequent contact with human nobles understood the connection between the term "Galloping Horse" and the plains of their daily lives. Thus, to most Barbarians, Landen's Gallop Tribe was merely a newly risen tribe.

Landen welcomed the messenger into his tent.

"Messenger, how is the situation for our Grey Goose Leader in the human territories?"

"Hahaha, you wouldn't believe it! By the time I left for the plains, our leader had already captured the castle south of the southern pass—the humans call it Rothee Castle. Several surrounding human strongholds have also been taken, and we've captured so many human slaves! Our leader said that if you bring your entire population south, you can join the Grey Goose in sharing the grain, gold, and slaves!" The Grey Goose messenger spoke with a bold, heroic tone, appearing to be a Barbarian who cared little for formalities.

"Ah, that's wonderful! The Grey Goose Tribe is truly the strongest tribe on our great grasslands! Rest assured, I will pack up immediately and lead my men south." Landen had long been mentally prepared for the Grey Goose to occupy Rothe Territory; they had gathered five times the strength of the Rothe Territory, so they certainly weren't there for trade.

Landen just didn't know what fate had befallen his own kin. "I heard that the Rothee family was quite a large clan. Have they all been captured by our leader?" Landen asked tentatively.

"Hardly. Except for one bastard son, the leader had them all beheaded!"

"What?" Albert suddenly spoke up. In Albert's heart, even though the Baron Gallop family had been tricked by Viscount Rothee, the two houses were of the same lineage—blood was thicker than water.

Albert's sudden outburst caused the atmosphere to freeze instantly. Some men even gripped their sword hilts, waiting for Landen's command.

"You old fool, the Grey Goose Leader is helping us take our revenge!" Landen lunged to Albert's side. "If it weren't for the Grey Goose Leader, when would we ever have been able to storm that castle and get our revenge? Go quickly, pick two Long-Haired Sheep and slaughter them to make lunch for the messengers!" Landen shouted, pushing Albert out of the tent while ordering others to slaughter the sheep to entertain the Grey Goose messengers.

Before anyone could react, Landen returned to the tent and continued chatting and laughing with the Barbarian messenger. "Hahaha, messenger, don't mind him. Our tribe was once severely deceived by that Rothee noble you mentioned. The old man has been harboring a grudge, wanting to take revenge himself, and he didn't expect the vengeance to be served today." Landen spoke casually.

In his previous life, Landen didn't know how many flawless, fact-twisting lies he had spun daily. In an instant, he could concoct a few lines to handle the Barbarians in the tent. At that moment, not even the Grey Goose messenger—nor even Albert, upon reflection—could find any fault in Landen's words.

"I must thank the Grey Goose Tribe for helping us take our revenge. You must stay with us for lunch today."

"Excellent, then I thank the Galloping Horse Chief." The Barbarians on the Gallop Plains lacked the polite formalities of human lords. Large and small tribes were strictly ranked, and strength was the only currency. Previously, the Wandering Badger Tribe had used their strength to drag men from surrounding tribes to their camp; even if they provided food and drink, the leader would never personally host them.

Now that Landen was considered a leader of a large tribe, his personal arrangement of the messenger's meal was something that, while common among humans, was virtually non-existent among Barbarians.

However, the Grey Goose messenger had been traveling for over ten days since leaving Rothe Territory, searching for small and medium tribes while sleeping in the open and never eating a proper meal. He had led some Barbarians from other camps south, escorted them through the Korniko Pass, and then turned back north, only finding Landen today. Now that Landen offered a grand feast, the messenger naturally wanted to eat his fill before leaving.

A standard Barbarian roasted sheep usually took half a day. Not long ago, Landen had chopped the sheep into large chunks in his territory, skewered them on wooden sticks, and roasted them with salt and spices, drastically reducing the cooking time.

"Messenger, rest here a while longer. Have lunch before heading to the next tribe," Landen urged enthusiastically. "Tell me, messenger, which tribe do you plan to visit next?"

"Ah?... Oh, we're heading east, then north. We'll talk to whichever tribe we find." The messenger didn't notice anything amiss.

"That's great. I heard there's a large tribe to our east called the Eagle Tribe."

"Oh? The Eagle? I know them. That's a large tribe, and they are iron brothers to our Grey Goose."

Landen did not get to eat this special feast. Neil and Albert stopped him before he could dine with the Grey Goose messenger. No Barbarian leader would dine with anyone below the rank of a tribal elder; the hierarchy within Barbarian tribes was equally rigid.

To avoid exposing himself, Landen could only watch Raul represent him in eating skewers with the dozen Barbarians, while he himself had to settle for leftovers. His heart bled.

During the meal, Raul managed to pry out quite a bit of information about the Grey Goose Tribe's front and rear lines—for instance, that the Grey Goose had likely gathered at least 200 Barbarian cavalry and around 500 Mana-Less, that there were at least two other messenger teams, and that the ultimate destination of this force was near the Salt Mine.