“Anyone with a bit of sense knows this tundra has no future.”
Days ago, Ainar explained why the tribe chiefs would have no choice but to submit to Lucian.
“With time, the population keeps decreasing. A tribe chief cannot ignore that.”
It was such a desperate reality that no one wanted to put it into words, but all the tribes were destined to go extinct in that tundra.
Even if they clung to life with tooth and nail, the general opinion among the warriors was that they wouldn’t last more than two hundred years.
And in the midst of that situation, Lucian announced that he could stop the blizzard and guide all the tribes to a land of salvation?
“Their eyes will be clouded, and they’ll gladly come to swear loyalty. First, they need to escape the tundra. The problem is what to do with the chiefs once the oath is made.”
Without a doubt, the chiefs would want to retain control and autonomy over their tribes, offering only superficial loyalty.
But what Lucian sought was to strip them of all authority and directly rule over the five tribes.
Unless he eliminated them with his own hands, like he did with Ivar, it was clear there would be strong resistance.
“Fortunately, the situation greatly favors my lord. They believe that once they cross the tundra, they won’t have to worry about you anymore, but…”
“Without my help, settling beyond the tundra is impossible. They don’t realize it yet, but that’s the truth.”
The tundra tribes were undoubtedly powerful. Every common inhabitant had the strength of a knight, and the warriors could surpass a knight through brute force alone.
However, against the vast civilization of the Empire, that strength became insignificant.
If Lucian didn’t pave the way for them, they would end up living as raiders until they were hunted down.
“That’s right. Myself included, no one here knows what kind of land lies beyond the tundra. It’s just a guess, but the wisdom of the tundra won’t work on the other side.”
“To put it bluntly, it’ll be nearly useless. It’s a completely different land in terms of environment, resources, and rules.”
“And in that land, the one who rules is you, my lord.”
The one who chimed in was Hugo. He let out a deep sigh and complained.
“To be honest, my lord could simply force those five chiefs to kneel. Dealing with frogs at the bottom of a well is really bothersome.”
As if agreeing, the other vassals nodded in unison. Lucian was the Duke of Grimaldi, border marquis of Asagrim, and lord of the White Castle, with immunity privileges for mages.
If Lucian didn’t vouch for their identity, the five tribes could be marked as public enemies in the North the moment they stepped outside the tundra.
And yet, they had to pacify those fools who interpreted the situation however they pleased, without even understanding that reality.
“Wouldn’t it be better to let them leave the tundra and do as they wish, then teach them a lesson? When they come to their senses, they’ll kneel on their own begging for forgiveness, and then…”
“Enough. Do you intend to cause bloodshed between the children of the tundra and the people from the other side?”
At Hugo’s words, Ainar frowned. Though he had decided to serve Lucian, he had lived his entire life in the tundra.
Hearing a strategy that involved forcing the sacrifice of his people couldn’t leave him unmoved.
“The children of the tundra wish to serve my lord as loyal vassals, not become slaves. Their different origin doesn’t give you the right to speak so lightly.”
“I said it out of frustration, nothing more.”
At Ainar’s warning, Hugo took a step back with an awkward laugh. Even for him, it had been a joke that went too far.
When the atmosphere grew tense, Lucian tapped the floor with his fingers to shift the mood.
“In any case, whether inside or outside the tundra, it’s impossible for those chiefs to rebel against me. They just haven’t realized it yet.”
“Exactly. That’s why, my lord, you only need to make them understand it for themselves.”
Time was on Lucian’s side, so there was no need to worry about the repercussions.
What mattered was to impose absolute control, even through drastic methods.
With time, and when faced with reality, they would eventually submit on their own.
And at that very moment, Lucian had a clear way to subdue the chiefs, even if only for a short period.
“Crush them with overwhelming force. Faced with the fear of death, anyone submits.”
***
Lucian recalled the words Ainar had spoken and curved his lips slightly.
For someone like Lucian, who already hated things becoming unnecessarily complicated, it was advice that fit him perfectly.
‘Besides, the effect is excellent.’
When Lucian’s gaze swept across the tribe chiefs, all of them shuddered at once.
There was no trace left of the fury they had shown before; they looked like frogs trapped under the gaze of a snake.
Unable to even open their mouths, Lucian addressed them briefly.
“Sit down.”
“…”
At the commanding tone, the tribe chiefs frowned, but still clumsily bowed and obeyed.
They had already understood that, if Lucian so desired, everyone present could be annihilated in an instant.
Once they were all seated, Lucian fixed his eyes on Broindolf, who had been the first to step forward.
“You first. Speak.”
“W-what am I supposed to say?”
“I told you earlier to step forward one by one and introduce yourselves. Tell me who you are.”
“…I’m Broindolf, chief of the Red Wolf Tribe.”
“Is that all?”
“What more is there to say?”
Broindolf spoke through gritted teeth, his face pale.
It was a pathetic yet stubborn resistance—even if he died here, he wouldn’t give up his last shred of pride.
Lucian let out a faint chuckle, as if finding his courage somewhat admirable.
“I suppose you’re right. And the others?”
“I-I am Otar, chief of the Black Hawk Tribe.”
“I’m Keyal, chief of the White Bear Tribe.”
Every time Lucian’s gaze landed on one of them, the chiefs immediately opened their mouths and introduced themselves. When all five had finished, Lucian nodded.
“Good. Now that the introductions are over, let’s get to the point. Swear loyalty to me and cross the tundra with me—or stay here and rot. Choose one of the two.”
“Wait a moment…!”
“There is no negotiation. Do you really think you’re in a position to set terms?”
Faced with a truth they couldn’t refute, the chiefs’ expressions darkened all at once.
That man not only held the power to escape the tundra of death, but also possessed immeasurable strength. He had nothing to gain and nothing to fear.
Realizing all the power was on the other side, Otar spoke in a grave voice.
“Fine. I will swear loyalty. In fact, that’s what I came to do. But there’s something I want to ask.”
“Speak.”
“Where do you intend to lead us, King? What will happen to the tribes once we cross the tundra?”
“What will happen? I’ll relocate them all to my territory. They’ll live together with the people already there.”
“Territory? People?”
“I mean…”
Lucian calmly explained the concepts to Otar, who seemed confused by terms he was hearing for the first time.
As the explanation continued, the curiosity that had shone in Otar’s eyes slowly faded, turning darker.
When Lucian finished, Otar asked in a trembling voice.
“W-wait a moment. That means the king owns lands and people beyond the tundra?”
“That’s right.”
“And you intend for our members to live alongside them?”
“Exactly.”
“…Then, what will become of us, the tribe chiefs?”
The position of chief only made sense while there was a clear boundary between the five tribes.
If all were dissolved and merged into one, as Lucian proposed, that role would no longer be necessary.
It would be enough for Lucian to govern everything directly.
“You don’t intend to strip us of our rank and reduce us to mere warriors, do you?”
“Why not? That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
‘This bastard…!’
Otar was about to curse, but managed to hold back. The demonstration of power he’d seen earlier was too overwhelming.
However, surrendering out of fear wasn’t an option either—too much was at stake.
“Are you sane? Who would swear loyalty under those conditions?”
“Is holding on to the title of chief in a tundra with no future more important than going to the land of salvation?”
“To you it may be a trivial title, but to us, it’s a position passed down from great ancestors for generations.”
Though they didn’t say it openly, the interests of rulers and the ruled often clashed.
For the tribe members, it didn’t matter much who the chief was, as long as they could go to the land of salvation.
But some chiefs preferred to cling to power, even if it meant staying behind in the tundra. After all, as long as they lived, the tribe could still somehow survive.
“When hunting a fierce beast, you should always leave it a way out. If completely cornered, it’ll fight to the death.”
“Then I’ll just block the retreat and bring reinforcements.”
“What are you saying?”
“Didn’t you hear what I said before? I have a territory and inhabitants. In other words, I also have an army.”
“…!”
At the word “army,” the chiefs froze.
How had they not thought of that before? The blizzard disappearing didn’t just mean a chance to cross to the land of salvation—it also meant that people from beyond the tundra could invade.
“If you truly don’t wish to swear loyalty, leave. I won’t touch you immediately. But don’t think that unstable peace will last forever.”
Lucian had no intention of tolerating indefinitely those who refused to swear loyalty and stood against him.
Realizing they were trapped with no way out, the chiefs shut their eyes tightly.
***
“To hand over to an outsider the position our ancestors passed down for hundreds of years…”
“Damn it… how can we face them in the same grave now?”
After completing the oath of loyalty, the five chiefs left Lucian’s chamber with ashen faces.
Even if it was due to overwhelming force, in just one day they had lost both their position and their tribes.
Though many ears were around, if they didn’t vent a little, they wouldn’t be able to bear it.
“Calm down, everyone. It’s not like there’s no chance to regain our position.”
“What do you mean?”
The chiefs, who had only been complaining, turned their attention to Skal, chief of the Gray Ermine Tribe. Skal looked around with eyes still full of life and spoke.
“Even if the king takes control of all the tribes, he doesn’t know each individual’s abilities. And as you all know, this tundra isn’t sustained by warriors alone.”
“That’s true. Someone has to build houses and make ornaments.”
“In the end, to assign everyone to the right place, he’ll have to rely on those who know the people best—us. We may have lost the title of chief, but in the process, we might gain new positions, don’t you think?”
The chiefs’ eyes lit up in realization.
Power isn’t defined so much by title as by real influence.
If they ended up in charge of the tribes they once ruled, their authority wouldn’t differ much from before.
“So let’s wait patiently. The world doesn’t move on strength alone. The time will come when the king will need our hands.”
“I see…”
As the chiefs exclaimed with admiration at the hopeful future Skal painted, Otar, who had been quietly listening, let out a dry laugh and muttered coldly:
“You’re dreaming.”
____
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