5. What Lies Ahead

On the first morning after fleeing with the entire barony, Landen had not even finished breakfast when he saw his chief knight hurrying over.

"Aren't you on watch?" Landen had guessed the bad news, but he still hoped Raul had merely come back for breakfast.

"The barbarians have reached Gallop Castle!" Raul confirmed Landen's worst fear.

"How many are there?"

"At least ten cavalrymen. They're only scouts. They went straight in after finding no one around the castle."

"How long do you think before they scout the forest?"

"Probably not long. The wheel ruts on the ground are too obvious. They'd have to be blind not to follow them."

"I thought we could buy ourselves a day. Looks like we only bought one more night," Landen muttered. Then he suddenly looked at Raul. "Notify everyone. Pack up and leave immediately. The two knights should know the route to the next camp. Have them head out first. There are too many of us, so we can take another route."

"Understood. This stretch of forest within twenty kilometers is practically our backyard. Every family has people familiar with it, so there's no need to worry about getting lost." Raul's team knew this forest well.

Half an hour later, only fifteen minutes after Landen's main party had set out, the first group of barbarian cavalry followed the wheel tracks left by the Gallop Territory Residents.

The barbarian scouts were the tribe's finest trackers. Once they fixed their eyes on prey, they would never lose it.

The barbarian searching for Landen's group today was called Bison. Two days ago, he had discovered Baron Gallop Hark and trailed Hark's group from one and a half to two kilometers behind, ultimately helping the other tribal cavalry capture Hark and his men alive.

The previous night, the Chieftain had ordered them to set out before dawn and scout outside Baron Gallop's castle. The Chieftain had already confirmed that the larger castle directly south of Korniko Pass would not interfere with their western exploration.

Yet when they reached the baron's castle, it was already empty. Bison inwardly cried out in alarm. The prey had been spooked and fled before he could latch onto it. Finding them again would be difficult.

Fortunately, there were too many people in the barony, and obvious wheel tracks led westward. After pursuing them for about half an hour, Bison reached the edge of the Great Forest. There, he hesitated. Having wandered the Grassland for more than ten years, he had never seen so many trees.

Just as Bison was about to send one companion back to report while leading three others into the forest to search, waves of white mist rose from the forest floor. Like a wall, the mist blocked Bison outside the forest.

Miasma always appeared in the forest at dawn.

The Great Forest was no exception. The residents of Gallop Territory had all experienced it to some extent, so they were not especially surprised. Instead, the barbarian pursuit made everyone quicken their pace.

Raul still brought up the rear, keeping watch about five hundred meters behind the group. Yet he had no idea why the barbarians on swift horses had never entered the forest.

But he knew the danger would soon be lifted. Between the second camp and the first camp lay a fairly broad stream.

This stream flowed down from Korniko Mountain in the north, forming several pools in the woods. At its shallowest, it was only half a meter deep. After many escapes into the forest, this stream had become the most important refuge barrier in Gallop Territory.

During an evacuation, people and livestock would first wade through the knee-deep stream. The wagons behind them could not easily cross the water, but there were several stretches along the stream where the riverbed was especially flat and the water relatively shallow. Less than three hundred meters upstream from one such flat stretch was a small pond specially prepared after many evacuations.

The ground around the pond had been deliberately raised. Once the downstream outlet was sealed, the increasingly deep pond would drain through a higher breach on the other side, diverting the water into a seasonal riverbed that dried up in winter. Using this pond, the refugees could artificially divert the stream. After the wagons crossed the riverbed, they could reopen the original outlet and turn the river back into a barrier.

Barbarians were more cautious in unfamiliar environments. No barbarian would casually attempt to cross an unfamiliar stream. They preferred searching downstream for flatter crossing points, but that would inevitably lead them deeper into the forest.

Ten kilometers into this forest were the territories of some mid- and High-Rank Magic Beasts. Ordinary barbarian cavalry were nowhere near enough to deal with them.

As for the camps prearranged by Baron Gallop, they neither went too deep into the forest nor lacked maintenance. Powdered droppings from High-level Magic Beasts, specially purchased from the royal capital, were used as markers to keep mid- and low-level Magic Beasts away.

In short, Landen discovered that the Gallop Family valued this refuge greatly. They had planned for it even more thoroughly than for their own castle.

Its greatest shortcoming compared with the castle was the air, which was far too damp. If it were drier, Landen would have been much more satisfied.

After setting up camp, Landen began to wonder what these barbarians actually wanted.

Landen could understand them coming to loot, but he could not understand why they abducted Territory Residents. Though barbarians were less civilized, they did not eat people. Or rather, their food mainly came from animals such as cattle and sheep. Cattle and sheep did not merely provide meat; they also produced dairy products. By regularly trading meat to the Human Race for grain, the barbarians had enough to survive the winter climate crisis.

Then why risk coming here? Why capture his father and brother? Pursuit was understandable—they feared their secret would be exposed. But if they truly feared leaks, weren't dead men better at keeping secrets?

These mysteries swirled in Landen's mind. He wanted to seek Albert's advice, but when he reached the scholar's tent, he found Albert writing a thick book.

Landen did not disturb Albert. Instead, he examined the book himself. It was actually a paper book, and the paper was of excellent quality. Though the pages were thin, they were strong enough and not translucent. It was clearly the product of highly developed papermaking.

Albert was writing with complete absorption when he sensed Landen behind him and turned around. "What is it, Landen? Why have you come to see me?"

"Albert, what are you writing?" Landen asked curiously.

"The territory log. Every territory governed by a Baron or above has a Family Scholar. One of that scholar's duties is to write the territory log, recording everything that happens in the territory every day."

"But we've been away from home for four or five days," Landen said.

"Yes. The Butler helped me write it for the past few days."

Mevenan was the territory's Butler. By blood, Mevenan was of the same generation as Hark Gallop. The two shared the same grandfather.

Mevenan had been the Butler for more than twenty years and had served the entire family conscientiously. While Albert was away, he had written the territory log in Albert's stead.

"I want to ask, what date is it today?" Landen wanted to understand this world. From the original owner's memories, he had only learned that this world also had four seasons, four quarters, and twelve months. But the original owner had lived too roughly, only remembering early, middle, and late month, with no concept of more precise dates.

"September 21st. More precisely, September 21st, Year 996 of the God Emperor Era!" Albert replied without hesitation.

A fine year. Landen thought. Year 996 was perfectly suited for hard labor.

"When do you think the barbarians will leave Gallop Territory?"

"From what we can see, the barbarians today are merely scouts. The main force will arrive within a day or two. We left them no food, but they cannot leave so easily either. I estimate they'll stay until the end of the month, the thirty-third or thirty-fourth."

"Oh, the thirty-third... Wait, what day did you say?" Landen suddenly felt as though he had found something important.

"The thirty-third, the end of the month. Don't tell me you forgot that September has thirty-four days?" Albert smiled, while Landen could only smile along.

"You remember dates so clearly. I usually just keep track of early, middle, and late month." As he praised Albert, Landen tried to figure out the calendar. "Do you have a calendar or monthly chart? I'd like to take a look."

"Of course." Albert rose and walked toward a chest. "Come to think of it, this is your property."

"What? Mine?"

"Yes. This is an Alchemy Calendar, a magical product powered by a Magic Array of Magic Gathering Runes. It is both proof of your status as the territory's lord and one of your tools." Albert found a small blue box. When he opened it, a dial inside showed its date hand pointing to September 21st.

Albert said that this Alchemy Calendar was issued by the sacred Supreme Council and was a standard tool for every lord ranked Baron or above.

The largest dial had hands for hours, minutes, and seconds, almost identical to the clocks from Landen's hometown. The smaller dial was a calendar showing the year, month, and day. Several other small dials could even display the stars, the phases of the three moons, the paths of the two suns, and more. It could be called an all-purpose mechanical clock.

Besides its timekeeping functions, the bottom of the box contained a ruler measuring 0.1 meters, which served as a standard for length. Inside the box was also a 0.1-kilogram Alchemical Ceramic weight. Its density was exactly the same as water's, so it could serve as a tool for measuring both volume and mass.

Every officially recognized landed noble of Baron rank or above throughout the Empire received one of these Alchemy Tools as the standard for weights and measures within their territory.

"This calendar, the lord's Alchemical Seal, and the Alchemical Boundary Markers on the territory are the three major credentials of a landed lord."

From the calendar's dial, Landen discovered that a year here had four hundred days. Each month had thirty-three days, except January, June, September, and December, which each had thirty-four. Each day was very similar in length to those on his former planet, but as Landen studied the calendar, he vaguely noticed something wrong.

For example, from the star chart, Landen discovered that the world he was on actually revolved around what was called Laya, while Laya, together with Alivia and several other planets, revolved around Diyang.

At one point, Landen realized that if Laya was a planet, then Alivia was a satellite.

And now, the Laya Star System where Alivia was located could be considered a secondary star system of the Diyang Star System. Alivia both rotated and revolved, while the entire star system also revolved around Diyang.

The nights in September had begun to turn cold, but Baron Gallop's Territory was still much warmer than the Gallop Plains.

At this moment, the Gray Goose Leader, who had just headed south from the Gallop Plains, sat in the reception hall on the first floor of Baron Gallop's castle, experiencing the noble lifestyle of the so-called civilized Human Race. After thinking it over, the Chieftain had only one thought: These chairs aren't even that soft.

Standing nearby, besides the elders and warriors of the Grey Goose Tribe, was a young human man.

"Chieftain, that viscount's son has come again," a tribal messenger suddenly reported.

"That little Rothe still has the nerve to come. He said there were enough provisions here to feed several hundred people through the winter, more than fifty Warhorses, and over twenty slaves. But all I see here is this mud house.

"Go tell that boy that we have not seen a single grain of food here. Naturally, we will look elsewhere. Let his viscount father choose whether to bring us the food himself or let us come and take it!"

"Yes!" The messenger turned and left.

The young man beside him watched the Gray Goose Leader. "Chieftain, just as I said, this pitiful barony has neither slaves nor food. The two things you want can only be found in the neighboring viscount's castle."

"Yes, I know," the Gray Goose Leader said easily. "But fewer than sixty slaves still aren't enough.

"You know, winter is here, and the ground will soon freeze. Only strong Mana-Wielders can excavate the hard earth. That is why the main labor force in the mines consists of Knight Apprentices and Junior Knights."

"That is easy to handle. Once the affairs of Rothe Territory are exposed, the entire Bristle-Wolf City will come under pressure from the Dragon Kingdom. They will offer up some families to take the blame, and we will have the Mana-Wielders from those families exiled to the Gallop Plains as well!"

"Good! I hope you can keep your agreement." The Chieftain looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from his heart, and he was very pleased.

"Of course. We have worked together for so long. When have I ever failed to keep an agreement?" The young man sounded far more relaxed as well.

"You should not remain here for what comes next. I suggest you return to the main camp first and help me adjust those unreliable Magic Arrays."

"Fine. Before I leave, should we contact the local liaison?" The young man did not seem entirely willing to leave just like that.

"Local?" The Chieftain appeared to think for several seconds. "No need. The fewer people who know about our affairs, the better."

"Very well. Then I will wait at the main camp for your message, Chieftain." With that, the young man also left the castle.

After watching the young man leave, the Chieftain quietly said, "Barons, viscounts, counts—you nobles hiding behind stone walls, what do you take me for? A vulture on the Grassland, satisfied with a few scraps of rotten meat you throw my way?"

"Someone!" the Chieftain roared. "Tell the camp north of the pass to prepare. Have the warriors sharpen their Iron Blades, polish their armor, feed the horses well, and have the tribal camps across the plains move south. This winter, we will find somewhere warm to spend it!"

"Yes!" Following the Chieftain's command, numerous barbarian cavalry messengers galloped north. The hunt of the barbarian tribes in the Southern Gallop Plains was about to begin.