Chapter 442 – King of the Prairie
Chapter 442 – King of the Grasslands
The appearance of the porcelain caused a stir at the banquet.
Chief Asoye graciously passed the bottle down for the crowd to view, but was not allowed to take it out of the box lest it be broken.
His son Gunther, after receiving the porcelain vase, fumbled carefully with his hands for half a day, and after passing it on to someone else, looked at Stanford with flickering eyes.
“So, you are planning to go over the Rocky Mountains. Oh, I must say, human warriors, that is a bold and even somewhat foolish decision.”
Chief Asoye held his wine and climbed into conversation with Captain Stanford.
“Yes, I am also an adventurer after all, and the urge to explore the unknown has always been in my blood, whether the unknown is dangerous or not.”
“A toast to your courage!”
The orc chief gulped down another large bowl of wine and casually wiped his mouth with his arm.
“In that case, you’d better wait for the dwarves in the mountains to come out and make contact with them, and maybe those stubborn fellows will be able to lead you there.”
“Thank you for the reminder, I was thinking of doing the same.”
On the way here, Stanford had also planned to make initial contact with the dwarves to see if he could get help from the other side.
If the other party was good to talk to, then it would be great, if the other party was not good to talk to, then they would have to quietly sneak into the Rocky Mountains to “smuggle”.
Soon, the main event of the banquet began, the leader of the caravan, Eugene, loudly reported the goods they brought this time.
Salt, cloth, tea, and all kinds of iron pots and pans, all of which are things that the tribes living in the forest like the Blood Bulls lack.
Each item that old Eugene read out made the tribal chiefs present smile and laugh.
Then they discussed and even argued loudly, either busy fighting for the quota of goods for their own clans or bargaining with the caravan members.
Most of what the Blood Bull Tribe used for payment were animal hides, medicinal herbs, or livestock, as well as a small portion of the metal coins that circulated from the humans.
The banquet, which started in the evening, lasted until about 9:00 pm, when the guests gradually dispersed and Stanford helped the somewhat dazed Matthew return to his residence.
……
It was late at night, and light still filled the chief’s longhouse.
The fire pit in the center of the house was burning with a roaring flame, releasing heat for this empty house, and also reflecting the two tall orc figures on the wooden walls decorated with various animal skins and skulls.
Asoye, the chief of the Blood Bull Tribe, held in his hands the porcelain vase he had been given at the banquet, the smooth walls of the vase glittering with a dazzling light.
“What a beautiful object!”
Asoye once again exclaimed from the bottom of his heart.
“My old fellow!” Eugene, the chief of the caravan, who sat opposite him, grunted, “Is your heart now at the age of obsession with playthings?”
“Oh, Eugene, that’s a bit mean of you to say; don’t beautiful things deserve more appreciation?” Azoye retorted to his old friend, then said in an emotional tone, “Humans are such an incredible race! Both cunning and intelligent, greedy and aggressive, only they could have invented this beautiful …… beautiful porcelain, right?”
“Hmph!” Eugene said with some disdain, “Perhaps in terms of brains, humans are longer than us orcs, but if we talk about bravery, ten humans are no match for one orc.”
Asoye said helplessly, “If you mean fighting with bare hands, that is indeed true, but what if the humans put on armor, straddle a warhorse, and pick up lances and swords?”
Eugene retorted, “That was before. Now, we too have learned to smelt iron, we too have learned to build stirrups, and the orc warriors are just as capable of donning armor and wielding swords.”
Azoye was about to continue his debate with his old friend, but Eugene interrupted him with a wave of his hand.
“All right, my old man. Don’t beat around the bush with me anymore. Grand Chief Abal didn’t send me here to discuss racial traits with you. Straight to the point, how are you considering it? When will you offer your loyalty to the Great Chief?”
Asoye narrowed his eyes, “Do you have to force me to make a choice?”
Eugene shook his head, “It’s not forcing you, it’s following the general trend. The beasts have been scattered for too long, like sand spilled on the ground, the grasslands need a king over all again!”
“But this is deep in the forest.”
“As long as you still recognize yourself as an orc, then you will always be a child of the steppe.”
Asoye gazed at Eugene, “Eugene old boy, we orcs have orcish traditions, traditions that are even embedded in our nature, and for many years we have lived this way fast.”
He hesitated for a moment and said, “But I’ve heard a lot about Grand Chief Abar, it’s said that he’s kept some human favorites, invented some official designations modeled after the human kingdoms, and is tinkering with orcish writing to implement some kind of etiquette rules.”
“I’ve heard that the tribes that pledge allegiance to him can no longer move freely, I’ve heard that disputes between tribes have to be adjudicated through him, and I’ve also heard that the various tribes have to give him the strongest warriors from their own tribes every year to build up an army loyal to him.”
“I don’t understand, is this still orcs? Where has our freedom gone? Why are there more rules and regulations to constrain us? What I don’t understand even more is that this very unkind attitude towards humans was revealed in what you just said, yet you are so loyal to such a chief who tries so hard to imitate humans.”
Eugene hesitated for a moment and retorted, “I do dislike humans, but won’t that stop me from learning their strengths? Besides, don’t I have an appreciation for those human warriors who come across the sea?”
“Those that Abar imitates are the strengths?”
“Yes! Asoye, you only see freedom, but you don’t see how heartbreaking it is not to see how many tribes get into bloody fights every year over pastures and water, and how a large number of excellent warriors die because of meaningless battles! And the hatred that results from this fighting is passed down from generation to generation, making us Orcs always a scattered bunch!”
Eugene stretched out his hand and merely got to shake it in front of the glowing flames.
“Therefore, we must bind our people with rules and regulations, and the establishment of rules and regulations cannot be done without an authority, and under this authority, and within the constraints of the rules and regulations, only then can the various tribes reasonably distribute their pastures and water sources, and only then can they avoid meaningless strife and vendettas! It is only then that they can unite and face the common enemy!”
He said in a tone that brooked no doubt, “And that authority must be and must be the Great Chief Abal!”
Asoye asked, “Why must it be Abar?” But he did not refute Eugene’s earlier words.
Eugene stood up and said with a hint of fervor on his face, “Because he is the bloodline of an ancient hero! The Zarg clan once led the Sons of the Steppe to defend themselves against the invasion of the Gubela people! Now, thousands of years later, the descendants of this bloodline will continue to lead the Sons of the Steppe to conquest.”
Puzzled, Asoye asked, “Conquest?”
“Conquest!”
Eugene nodded heavily!
(End of chapter)