Pan Ming obeyed the order and released the Clan Leader's hand. The Clan Leader gasped for air, remaining kneeling on the ground, likely needing some time to recover.
Cerydra glanced at Pan Ming. To be honest, the Clan Leader was no weakling—at least Silver-level, she estimated—yet Pan Ming had subdued him with such ease. This meant Pan Ming's strength was at least Gold-tier, if not even higher.
A Legendary-level Monk? Cerydra mused inwardly. Considering this, it didn't seem so far-fetched that he had journeyed on foot from the Eastern Ancient Kingdom to the Northern Territory.
She then turned to the Clan Leader and said, "Since he refuses to yield, let him go."
"Huh?" The others were stunned by this order. One of them exclaimed, "Boss Imperator, he just insulted you!"
"He even dared us to kill him if we had the guts! Why not just grant his wish and be done with it?"
But Cerydra shook her head firmly. "This is an order."
Overwhelmed by her authority, the surrounding Barbarians promptly obeyed, hoisting up the temporarily incapacitated Clan Leader and carrying him to the outer fringes of the Northern Territory Empire. They unceremoniously dumped him there, leaving him to figure out his own way back—not their concern.
Boss Imperator had simply ordered his release, not provided a courtesy escort.
In truth, Cerydra's motive for releasing the Clan Leader was straightforward: she knew he would inevitably report back to the Falcon Clan. By having Hysilens secretly follow him, she could trace him back to one of the Northern Territory's largest clans.
Only after the Clan Leader was gone did Cerydra turn to Pan Ming, who stood before her. Before she could speak, he blurted out, "Your Majesty, after such humiliation, you still grant him mercy? You are truly too kind!"
No, she thought. Releasing him is a move against the Falcon Clan behind him.
Moreover, Jones Falcon, the Falcon Clan Leader and one of the most powerful figures in the Northern Territory, wouldn't be as easily subdued as the leaders of smaller clans. A confrontation seemed inevitable, likely resulting in significant casualties.
Merciful? Cerydra certainly didn't see herself that way. Letting the Clan Leader go was merely the opening act of the Northern Civil War to come.
However, she had no intention of discussing this with the Monk. Instead, she propped her cheek with one hand, tilted her head slightly, and asked, "I've heard you come from the Eastern Ancient Kingdom. Could you tell me about that nation?"
Pan Ming nodded and began to speak slowly. The Eastern Ancient Kingdom spanned vast lands and boasted a massive population. It was an ancient, powerful nation that had existed since time immemorial and persisted to this day.
At least, that was the impression held by the Western nations. But the reality was far different.
Though the Eastern Ancient Kingdom appeared to be ruled by an Emperor, imperial decrees rarely reached beyond the capital, leaving the nation with virtually no central authority. The entire country was being devoured and carved up by powerful aristocratic clans, who often waged war against each other for territory and resources, while the Emperor sat helplessly in the capital, unable to intervene.
As the saying goes, "A hundred-year dynasty, a thousand-year clan." The Eastern Ancient Kingdom had seen numerous Emperors rise and fall, but these aristocratic clans endured.
This nation appeared mighty on the surface, but its core had long since rotted away, like a colossal dragon riddled with parasites, teetering on the brink of death. Yet these very parasites deliberately sustained the dragon's life, preventing it from collapsing entirely.
Initially, Cerydra was startled by Pan Ming's account. But after some reflection, she realized that no nation could remain eternally powerful; cycles of rise and fall were inevitable. Perhaps... when she had time in the future, she could visit this kingdom herself?
Having finished describing the Eastern Ancient Kingdom's situation, Pan Ming said, "Your Majesty, Empress, the debt of gratitude for this mere intelligence cannot be repaid. Is there anything else this humble monk can do for you? I will assist you with all my strength."
From Hysilens's perspective, who knew the full truth, Cerydra shouldn't have been aware of the circumstances. So, even if just for appearances' sake, she said, "But this is our first meeting, isn't it? What debt of gratitude could I possibly owe you?"
Pan Ming replied with utmost sincerity, "The gift of the 'Potato' to all the people of this land, ensuring that everyone can eat their fill—that is the debt I owe you."
Cerydra: "?"
Hysilens brought Pan Ming here and gave him a potato. Pan Ming thanked her, which was perfectly normal. The potatoes had been ordered to be planted by Cerydra (actually Cipher, but it made no difference). Pan Ming thanked Cerydra for being able to eat the potatoes, which was also understandable.
But now, he was thanking Cerydra because "even the barbarians here can eat their fill." Wasn't that a bit odd?
Perhaps sensing Cerydra's confusion, Pan Ming explained, "Many people in this world perform good deeds, but they often receive no reward. This humble monk finds such a situation deeply unjust. Therefore, if the world fails to repay these virtuous souls, then this humble monk will repay them on behalf of the world."
"And Your Majesty, by ensuring that countless people can eat their fill, you have bestowed upon them an immense kindness!"
Hearing this, Cerydra didn't know how to react to this fellow. After a pause, she said, "Since that's the case, you can go with Aria and the others later to find the Falcon Clan. Locate their Boss and persuade him to join my Empire."
After all, this fellow was a Legendary-grade combatant. If he wanted to help so badly, why not let him? What else could Cerydra say?
Pan Ming nodded and turned to leave, but moments later he returned, asking, "Who exactly is Aria?"
Cerydra: "..."
-
Meanwhile, the perspective shifted to Hysilens. After the Clan Leader who had stubbornly refused to pledge allegiance was thrown overboard, Hysilens dove back into the sea, positioning herself beneath him to secretly trail him underwater.
The Clan Leader first trekked on foot for a full six hours to return to his Clan—an undoubtedly grueling ordeal for him.
Starving and parched, with a long journey ahead, getting lost on the Ice Plains would mean certain death. Fortunately, the Clan Leader's vast experience allowed him to follow faint, nearly invisible tracks, retracing his path from when he was captured until he finally reached home.
In stark contrast, the journey proved utterly monotonous for Hysilens beneath the waves. While the man above was engaged in a thrilling survival ordeal on the Ice Plains, she was essentially just "phishing" beneath the surface, nearly dozing off from boredom.
After the six-hour trek, by the time the Clan Leader finally reached his Clan, darkness had already fallen. He naturally took time to rest and recover before addressing his subordinates: "Tomorrow at dawn, we'll immediately evacuate this place and head for the Falcon Clan!"
Hysilens sighed inwardly. It seemed she would have to spend the night here after all, unable to cuddle her soft and fragrant Blueberry Cupcake.
With such an urgent matter, couldn't they just set off tonight? Seriously!
Hysilens curled into a ball, hugging her knees. The damp silk stockings against her hands felt slightly uncomfortable, but she settled down to rest anyway.
Why the awkwardness? Sleeping in full clothes—how could it not be uncomfortable?
Time flew by, and the next day dawned. When Hysilens awoke, she found herself surrounded by a large school of fish, completely encircling her and radiating feelings of curiosity and affection.
Hysilens had long grown accustomed to this. Despite frequently eating fish herself, these simple-minded creatures seemed inexplicably fond of her.
On the ice, the Clan had already dismantled their tents and begun their migration. Hysilens continued to trail them, and another two days and two nights slipped by in a blur. To be honest, even after spending so much time submerged, she was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable. This wasn't physical discomfort, but rather a growing mental unease.
After all, she wasn't the real Hysilens, a sea creature born and raised in the water. Deep down, she remained a land dweller, so the underwater world wasn't her home, merely a place she enjoyed.
It was like someone who loves video games: even if they played nonstop for three days and three nights, they'd eventually burn out.
Although the water still felt comfortable against her skin, she longed to return to the shore. Moreover, after such prolonged immersion, her clothes were showing significant wear and tear.
Her stockings, for instance, had at least four holes, accidentally torn by fish brushing against her. The hem of her skirt also showed signs of fading, its color noticeably lighter.
Finally, perseverance paid off. That very evening, dense clusters of figures appeared in Hysilens's vision—the Falcon Clan!
Meanwhile, on the shore, a group of Barbarians had gathered in a circle around a pillar made entirely of ice. A Barbarian was bound to it, his face etched with regret and despair. He pleaded nervously, "B... Boss, can I have one more chance? Next time, next time I definitely won't fail!"
The man he called "Boss" was Jones Falcon, a burly man with fiery red hair and a matching beard, the undisputed leader of the entire Falcon Clan.
Unfazed by his subordinate's plea, Jones turned to his lieutenant beside him and ordered, "Light the fire."
Immediately, the barbarian henchman stepped forward with a torch and approached the bound tribesman tied to the ice pillar. He ignited the massive pile of branches stacked at the man's feet.
Flames erupted, accompanied by piercing screams of agony.
Beneath their straightforwardness and loyalty, one must remember that the barbarians of the Northern Territory were also synonymous with backwardness, bloodshed, and brutality.
The clans Cerydra had encountered before were small, focused solely on survival, with no time for unnecessary pursuits.
The largest clan she had subjugated was Dave the fisherman's clan. Dave, considered a rare intellectual among the barbarians, stood out as an exception.
But the Falcon Clan differed from all previous tribes. Vastly powerful, their leader reigned as an absolute tyrant, free to act on his whims. Any resistance was crushed with brutal force; among barbarians, might makes right.
What he was doing now was precisely a Blood Sacrifice Ritual to the gods, seeking their blessings.
Simply put, the ritual began with a clan-wide activity, such as fishing or raiding. The one who harvested the least would be sacrificed, their final value extracted to secure divine blessings for the clan.
The Falcon Clan had just completed a southern raiding expedition, targeting the All Nations Alliance, which was mired in war and unable to defend its northern borders. Fishing alone couldn't sustain such a large Barbarian population, making raiding a necessary component of their survival.
Underwater, Hysilens could clearly sense that the water temperature here was slightly higher than elsewhere, indicating they were very close to the southern regions.
This particular Blood Sacrifice Ritual claimed only one life. To the Falcon Clan, a massive tribe of 50,000, this might seem insignificant. But what if such sacrifices occurred daily?
Flames roared, and agonized screams echoed through the air. Jones Falcon bowed his head slightly, muttering in prayer, "Great Wolf God! First predator of the world, embodiment of savagery, symbol of bloodlust! I, Jones Falcon, offer this sacrifice to you, imploring your divine blessing!"
Then, a gaze brimming with divine power fell upon Mr. Jones. Slowly, a crimson, tattoo-like mark appeared on his chest, joining countless others that already covered his entire body.
Underwater, Hysilens, who had just approached, witnessed this scene. The fish paused in astonishment. During the War of the Heroes three centuries ago, Half had shattered his Divinity. The Wolf God should no longer exist.
Yet after this Barbarian offered his sacrifice, a 'god' had actually responded? How was that possible?
It certainly wasn't Half. In the Northern Territory Empire, Half was currently nestled in Aria's arms, purring contentedly.
But Hysilens was certain she hadn't misperceived anything. Just moments ago, a 'god' had undeniably cast its gaze upon this place.
So, could it be that something else has usurped Half's place? Hysilens mused silently.