Translator: CinderTL
When Gran's fleet sailed back into the river mouth bay on the eastern coast of the Anahuac Continent, the familiar camp was deserted.
The campfires had long been extinguished, the totem poles lay toppled, and the only remaining traces were footprints eroded by wind and rain and scattered animal bones. His heart sank—the Great Creek Tribe had vanished.
He sent scouts upriver, deep into the interior, and after several days of searching, they finally discovered a new settlement on the northern bank of a tributary.
The camp was crude, with low fences and tents hastily patched together from animal hides. Even more shocking was the tribe's drastically reduced population. The once-hundreds-strong community now numbered fewer than two hundred, mostly the elderly, women, and children, with only a handful of young men.
Near the sacrificial altar at the center of the camp, he found an old friend from his previous visit—Egbert, the elder priest of the Great Creek Tribe.
The once-proud and imposing minotaur now stood hunched, black mourning cloth wrapped around his horns, his eyes bloodshot.
"Ah, my friend Gran... you've returned," Egbert's voice rasped, low and hoarse.
After exchanging greetings, Gran urgently asked about the reason for their relocation.
Egbert slowly raised a hand, pointing to the southern sky. "The Serdan... they grow ever more brazen."
Gran noticed that Egbert, who had previously referred to the ram-horned people with reverent terms like "dominant species," now called them by name.
The Serdan people he mentioned were inhabitants of Andesia, the southern continent. Gran had visited the southern continent and been imprisoned by the Serdan. Their civilization was far more advanced than the primitive societies of the beastkin tribes on the northern continent, rivaling even the Aldorians of the mother continent—that is, the Aldorians before the industrial revolution in Northwest Bay.
During their last parting, Egbert had told Gran that the Serdan frequently captured their people to enslave them.
Now, it seemed the situation had deteriorated significantly.
"Their raids have become increasingly brutal," Egbert said, his eyes burning with grief and rage. "They sail in on massive ships, armed with chains, storming our camps. They seize anyone who can walk—men, women, children—bind them, and transport them south."
He lowered his voice. "We've heard they're waging a great war and need soldiers. Minotaurs, catkin, rabbitkin—all forced into the front lines. Those who survive keep fighting; those who die are buried where they fall."
The elder priest gazed at the surviving children of the Tribe. "We can't stay here any longer. If we don't leave, the entire Tribe will be wiped out. But the northern continent is cold and barren. How long... sigh, how long can we possibly survive there?"
Gran's mind suddenly sprang to life.
His return to the new continent had been officially commissioned by Paul Grayman, carrying a critical mission: to establish a precious metal mining system in the Northwest Bay and ultimately transform this territory into an overseas dominion of Alden Town.
However, Paul had issued strict directives: no forceful occupation, no enslavement of the indigenous people, and no disruption of their existing social structures.
Paul understood that while brutal plunder might yield short-term gains, it would inevitably provoke sustained resistance and undermine the northwest regime's image of establishing a new order. He refused to repeat the old colonial mistakes of Earth's European colonizers, who had sought profit through oppression.
Therefore, Paul devised a strategy of cooperative development with the indigenous people, drawing inspiration from a distant historical precedent: the island of New Zealand, where Great Britain's colonization had been achieved not through military force but through the Treaty of Waitangi.
In the treaty, the colonizers didn't directly declare occupation. Instead, they signed an agreement with the indigenous Maori Tribe: the Maori ceded sovereignty in exchange for the protection of the British Crown and the rights of British subjects. They retained ownership of their land and resources but could only sell land to the Crown, establishing an official, Crown-controlled land transfer system. The colonizers presented themselves as protectors, offering security, trade, and governance, gradually integrating the indigenous people into the new economic and administrative framework.
TL/N: https://nzhistory.govt.nz/politics/treaty-of-waitangi
Of course, the reality of history was far from the idealized vision outlined in the treaty. While the Treaty of Waitangi had idealistic intentions, it ultimately led to massive land loss for the Maori, cultural marginalization, and prolonged disputes over rights.
However, Paul believed his moral standards were far superior to those of Great Britain.
Instead of appearing as a conqueror, he would establish actual control over the new territory as a treaty signatory, technology provider, and protector. He hoped to create a symbiotic relationship between outsiders and the indigenous people of Anahuac.
Northwest Bay provided high-quality, affordable industrial goods such as agricultural technology, iron farming tools, durable textiles, and medicine in exchange for land use rights in specific mining areas. Mineral extraction was led by technical teams dispatched from Northwest Bay, but a significant portion of the basic labor force would be prioritized for local tribal members, who would be compensated with goods or credit vouchers. If indigenous tribes agreed to accept Northwest Bay's administrative and legal systems, they could gain cooperative tribal status, entitling them to trade preferences, military protection, and basic education support.
This was not merely an economic strategy but also a political experiment—a gradual integration through institutional appeal and survival dependency, drawing indigenous peoples into Northwest Bay's sphere of influence voluntarily rather than through military coercion.
Gran had come with this comprehensive plan in mind.
Standing in the Great Creek Tribe's crude camp, he felt deep sympathy for the minotaurs' plight, but the mission he carried flashed through his mind like lightning.
This was the opportunity.
These tribes were at their most vulnerable, desperately in need of protection. They had lost all faith in the dominant species of the southern continent and lacked the confidence to defend themselves.
They needed a powerful ally to repel the Serdan invaders, and Northwest Bay could become that very ally.
If the Aldorians could provide advanced weaponry, construct fortifications, dispatch patrol fleets, and even proactively intercept Serdan ships, they would no longer be seen as outsiders but as protectors.
Once the Great Creek Tribe and other indigenous groups in similar circumstances realized that cooperation with the Northwest meant safety, survival, and the hope for reconstruction, wouldn't Lord Grayman's vision naturally come to fruition?
This wasn't taking advantage of their vulnerability, but rather seizing an opportunity.
Gran could almost envision the future: fortresses lining the riverbanks, armies composed of indigenous warriors and Aldorian soldiers fighting side by side...
He turned to Egbert, his mind made up.
"Old friend," he said softly, "I've returned with more than just goods and tools this time. If we can help you repel those southern raiders... would you be willing to discuss our future? Our... shared future?"
Egbert lifted his head, a faint, long-dormant spark flickering in his eyes.
(End of the Chapter)
---
📖Read (FF) on Pa.treon@CinderTL - c978. [+1]
🔑Early Access at $5.
💥Translated (6) Series, (4.6K+) Chapters, (6.7M+) Words.