Chapter 280: The Calm Before The Storm [Part 2]
Fortress of the Darkmane Tribe...
Troy sat in his chair with his eyes closed.
The monster stampede had killed over three thousand warriors from the Darkmane Tribe.
At the moment, Jafar was doing his best to re-animate the dead, but Troy knew that the shaman wouldn’t be able to make use of all of them before the monsters attacked them again.
During the battle, the walls had received great damage from the monsters. By the end, they were already on the verge of collapsing.
Yet, when the battle ended, the damaged walls were repaired. Now, it was as good as new. This miracle made the warriors of the Darkmane Tribe feel hopeful, but Troy knew better.
The repair had done nothing but delay the inevitable.
At that point, Troy knew that the next time the monsters attacked, it might also be the last time they defended.
’I shouldn’t have come,’ Troy thought for the umpteenth time.
He had already lost count of how many times he had regretted his decision to declare war against the Aslan Tribe.
If he hadn’t left the Darkmane City, the Aslan Tribe would have been left to fight against this calamity on their own.
Troy wouldn’t even need to lift a finger, and his hated enemies would be erased from the face of the Borderlands.
"Hah..."
A helpless sigh escaped his lips.
The Chieftain of the Darkmane Tribe knew they were on borrowed time.
Faced with this threat, there were a few options left before him.
The first one was to take Jafar and his sons to escape to the fortress of the Aslan Tribe, leaving his warriors behind.
The second one was to escape far away, leaving this war by heading to a location where the monster stampede couldn’t reach them.
During the battle, they successfully killed a Wyvern using the powerful poison Jafar had developed.
The shaman had prioritized re-animating this monster, which now gave them the option of having a chance to escape.
However, Troy understood that the moment he left the fortress with his sons, the warriors of the Darkmane Tribe would no longer consider him as their chieftain. They would never forgive his betrayal.
"I never knew there would eventually come a time where I’d be forced to choose between survival and honor," Troy muttered.
The choice of losing his life over everything he had built for the past tens of years was a difficult one.
Regardless of the choice he made today, it was certain that the Darkmane Tribe could no longer be part of the high-ranking tribes.
Perhaps they would degrade to a middle-ranked tribe.
The worst part of it all was that he believed that the Chieftain of the Bonegnash Tribe, Osteon, would not pass on the opportunity to absorb the Darkmane Tribe, just like how Troy and Jafar had absorbed the Bloodtusk Tribe.
"What goes around... comes around." Troy smiled wryly.
He then remembered the image of the young chieftain of the Aslan Tribe.
Someone who wasn’t born within the Borderlands, yet still gained enough prestige to be recognized not only by the low-ranking tribes, but also by the greatest shaman of the Borderlands, Gundar.
Troy didn’t want to admit it, but he envied Leone.
He could see the love and respect in the gaze of the Aslan Tribe whenever they looked at their young chieftain.
On the other hand, his own tribe members never looked at him in that manner.
Whenever the Darkmane Tribe looked at Troy, their eyes held fear, caution, and anxiety.
It was understandable. After all, he ruled his tribe using force and fear.
Anyone who didn’t agree with him would disappear without a trace.
Back then, he didn’t have to think about these things.
He never had the time to pause and reflect on his actions.
He was a very ambitious person, so the only thing on his mind was the expansion of the Darkmane Tribe. He didn’t care what means or methods were used. All he cared about was results.
While he was lamenting over his life choices, Jafar entered the room quietly.
"Do you have something to report?" Troy asked without bothering to open his eyes. He had already sensed Jafar’s approach, so there was no need for him to be alarmed.
"I don’t have enough resources to re-animate all the soldiers," Jafar replied calmly. "So, I focused on reviving three Pteranodons."
His words made Troy smile faintly. The chieftain then opened his eyes to look at his righthand man.
Jafar, who usually looked like he always had a scheme brewing inside his head, now looked exhausted and pale.
Gone was the confidence he and Troy had before they set out for this war. What remained was only bitterness, as well as the worry of what was about to come.
"Three Pteranodons..." Troy said softly. "I see. So you have come here to ask me to make a choice. Either escape... or death. Am I right, Jafar?"
"Yes, My Chieftain." Jafar nodded. "There’s no chance of victory here. Only death awaits us."
"If I say no, what will you do?" Troy asked out of curiosity.
"I will leave this place alone if I have to," Jafar replied without hesitation. "I do not wish to die here. My Chieftain, we can start again. There’s no need to die in this place."
Troy didn’t say anything because he had already expected this answer from him. Even then, he appreciated the shaman’s resolve to ask him to leave with him instead of just escaping by himself.
"Jafar, tell me this," Troy said calmly. "Does the Darkmane Tribe still have a future?"
This time, it was the shaman who didn’t answer right away. He merely lowered his head as if he was pondering this question seriously.
"My Chieftain, do you want me to give you an honest answer, or do you want the answer that you want to hear?" Jafar answered after a few minutes of silence.
"I want your honest answer," Troy replied. "Tell me, old friend. Do we still have a future?"
Yes.
Troy had considered Jafar his friend, his one and only friend within the Darkmane Tribe. And the shaman also felt the same way toward his chieftain, who had supported him when he had been ridiculed by his tribesmen back when he was still young.
"The Darkmane Tribe no longer has a future, My Chieftain," Jafar replied. "Even if we escape and return to Darkmane City, the Bonegnash Tribe will absorb us without fail. And when they do, we will no longer be able to raise our heads with honor and dignity. If anything, Osteon will surely treat us as slaves."
The Darkmane Tribe had done the same to others, so they understood this more than anyone.
A slow and deep sigh escaped Troy’s lips as if he had already accepted this truth.
He already knew the answer before Jafar answered his question.
He simply wished to hear it spoken to him, rather than hear the answer come out of his own lips.
"Jafar, this will be my last order to you," Troy said before standing from his chair. "Take my sons and go to the Aslan Tribe to seek asylum. In exchange, tell their chieftain that I, alongside my warriors, will fight till the bitter end."
A soft chuckle then escaped the chieftain’s lips.
"With your wit and cunning, I’m sure you will easily become one of that brat’s most trusted advisors." Troy smirked. "That bootlicker Kael is no match against you. Work with the Aslan Tribe and make them the hegemon of the Borderlands.
"Promise me that before you meet me in the Earth Mother’s embrace, the next Barbarian King will not be from the Warclaw Tribe, nor the Grimhowl Tribe, nor the Bonegnash Tribe, and definitely not from the Sandreaver Tribe. Can you promise me this, old friend?"
"Yes, My Chieftain," Jafar answered firmly. "I swear upon the Earth Mother that the next Barbarian King of the Borderlands will not be among them."
"Good." Troy nodded.
The chieftain felt lighter after hearing that, as if all the worries of the world had left his shoulders.
A faint smile even hung on his lips, which made Jafar smile faintly as well.
"Go, Jafar. Take my sons," Troy said as he walked towards his friend, resting his hand on his shoulder. "A storm is coming, so make sure to take shelter in the biggest tree within the Borderlands."
"Yes, My Chieftain."
Jafar then reached out to hug Troy one last time. Both men had schemed for many years on how they would make the Darkmane Tribe the strongest tribe in the Borderlands.
Unfortunately, that dream would not come to pass.
"Tell Leone that I ask of him to take care of my sons," Troy stated. "They don’t need to become officials of the Aslan Tribe. However, I do hope they can at least live in comfort."
"Understood," Jafar replied before he reluctantly took a step back. "Even if Leone doesn’t do it, I’ll make sure that Cain, Byron, and Travis will be able to live well."
The two then left the room together.
A few minutes later, Troy stood at the ramparts of the fortress, only to then look at the Wyvern, as well as the three Pteranodons flying towards Grimjaw Mountain.
He had made the excuse that he had sent Jafar and his sons to the Aslan Tribe to pass on an important message to Leone while he stayed behind.
Whether the warriors suspected anything or not, none of them said anything.
With that, Troy looked at the warriors, who were now looking at him, and saw respect and determination in their eyes.
They could tell that their chieftain was planning to fight alongside them until the bitter end, and that was enough for them to fight with everything they had.
’I should have done this sooner,’ Troy thought. ’If I did, perhaps my people would have loved and respected me more.
The chieftain of the Darkmane Tribe then shifted his attention towards the distance.
To the place where the monsters congregated together.
"I’ll make sure to at least leave a mark on your body," Troy vowed to himself as he stared at the Bronze Dragon, who was currently circling its army from the sky.
The Chieftain of the Darkmane Tribe no longer feared anything.
In fact, he was looking forward to the upcoming battle.
A battle that would be written in the history books of the Borderlands, where Troy’s name would be spoken fondly of for many generations to come.
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