Way of Overlord
Chapter 118: Night Passes

Chapter 118: Night Passes

Durja said that after the envoy left, the Chief of Zlata then convened a meeting. Half a day passes by and then they decided to challenge the Brolgadhr tribe first.

Durja was there when the envoy relay the news. And Aeryon was there when he nodded and smile while saying he understood.

Durja couldn’t help but be curious about Aeryon seemingly happy reaction when the Zlata tribe decided to challenge the Brolgadhr tribe to a duel.

He decided to ask Aeryon about it, as he knows that he seem to be groomed as a commander and wanted to learn from Aeryon

And Aeryon is a generous leader.

When the envoy from the Zlata tribe had relayed their decision to challenge the Brolgadhr tribe, Aeryon nodded and smiled, showing that he understood their choice. Durja couldn’t quite grasp the reasoning behind Aeryon reaction, but he knew there must be a deeper strategy at play.

Aeryon explains it to him and he now explained to his father what he had learned

From what Aeryon told him, Aeryon understood the challenge to a duel is Zlata tribe last measure.

In the fiercely competitive and prideful world of the Great Steppe, no tribe would simply submit without putting up a fight.

Surrendering without resistance would be seen as a sign of weakness and be met with mockery and scorn from other tribes.

Aeryon had experienced this first-hand when he subjugated the four tribes before, each of them initially challenging the Brolgadhr tribe warriors to a duel.

It is a ritual of sorts, a symbolic act that allowed the weaker tribe to gracefully step down and justify their surrender.

By engaging in the duel, the weaker tribe could say, "Our warriors were defeated in honourable combat. It is then justifiable for us to serve under you."

In this way, the challenge to a duel was not just a test of strength, but also a means of preserving the pride and honour of the defeated tribe.

It allowed them to save face and maintain their dignity in the eyes of the other tribes.

It is a tacit understanding among the tribes that, even in defeat, they could still hold their heads high if they fought bravely and honourably.

By accepting the challenge to a duel from the Zlata tribe, Aeryon showed respect for Zlata tribe and respect in the Great Steppe could sometimes be big and could sometimes be small

Gratitude and act of hospitality, honesty and generosity is still a virtue extolled even among the barbaric tribes.

Instead of fighting himself, he entrusted one of his skilled warriors to represent him.

He stood back, observing with a watchful eye, and issuing subtle commands.

With the sun hanging high in the sky, the warrior clad in emblematic armor stepped forward, his blade glinting in the light. The clash was intense, each move a dance of steel, while the tribes watched on withheld breath.

His warrior won without suspense and Zlata quickly surrender.

The Zlata tribe was not aware of Brolgadhr tribe danger until that danger is in their footsteps.

Their regret came too late, as they now found themselves under Brolgadhr dominion.

With the Zlata tribe subdued, Aeryon focus shifted to the neighbouring Burak tribe, a small tribe to the north.

Instead of aggression, Aeryon sought cooperation and sent an envoy to propose a trade alliance.

The Burak tribe, recognizing the wisdom in aligning with the powerful Brolgadhr, readily agreed.

Having secured the alliance, Aeryon forces withdrew from the Zlata and Burak territories, the banner of the Brolgadhr tribe flutters in the air

In just a few days, the word of Aeryon victory against the Duhai and the Zlata tribe reaches the north. By now, probably most tribes around the western and northern side of the Southern Great Steppe would hear about Aeryon name

the reputation of the Brolgadhr tribe grew even stronger. And with it, more dangers. But Aeryon must have been prepared for this when he launched this battle, Durka thought to himself

Now, just a day after his successful endeavours, Aeryon finds himself back in the Duhai tribe

Durka’s surprise at Aeryon unexpected return was evident in his furrowed brow and intrigued expression.

When his son, Durja, confirmed the news, the chief couldn’t help but wonder about the reason behind Aeryon visit.

"He’s here?" Durka repeated in astonishment, seeking confirmation.

Durja nodded solemnly. "Yes, Father. He said he wanted to see you and speak with you before he returns to the Brolgadhr tribe."

Durka thought about it and he nodded.

He himself also wanted to meet Aeryon. Now, that he had lost, Aeryon now become his chief.

And after hearing the feat of this young leader he also wanted to meet this young chief and speak to him and ask him point blank about his ambition

"Is it really like I thought? That he sought to unify the Southern Great Steppe?" he mutters to himself

Durka tries to get up but he is still weak. Durja got up with his father, carrying him up, letting his father to lean against him

"Father, let me help you" Durka smiles and nodded.

Slowly, they walked outside the tent, taking in the fresh air of the Great Steppe.

The guards outside the tent instinctively bowed in respect as Durka emerged, but his focus was fixed on the distant view.

His eyes scanned the horizon, deep in thought

"Is that where he is staying?"

Durja nodded.

As Durka gazed toward the distant tent, he could see the impressive setup that the Duhai tribe had prepared for Aeryon.

The surrounding area was bustling with activity, giving off an energetic and vibrant ambiance.

Fifty men patrolled the perimeter, displaying a sense of discipline and vigilance, ready to protect their leader.

The main tent itself stood tall and grand, its intricately designed patterns showcasing the artistic skills of the Duhai tribe.

It is adorned with colourful banners and flags, symbolizing the unity between the two tribes. There is the banner of the Brolgadhr tribe and there is banners of the Duhai tribe

The tent’s entrance was flanked by large wooden poles with intricate carvings, giving it an imposing and regal appearance.

Around the main tent, a military camp had been set up, buzzing with life and motion.

Countless smaller tents were neatly arranged in rows, housing the two thousand warriors who now stood under the banner of the Brolgadhr tribe.

Smoke rose from cooking fires, mingling with the scent of horse sweat and leather, creating an earthy and invigorating aroma that lingered in the air.

The area exuded an air of purposeful efficiency

Even from where he is standing he could see that countless warriors engaged in various tasks, sharpening their weapons, polishing armor, and tending to the horses.

Durka always had great eyesight and he could see through the night.

The sounds of hooves, clinking armor, and hearty laughter filled the air

Nearby, the Ashana tent stood with an air of wisdom and authority.

The Duhai tribe had shown their respect for the Ashana by placing it in close proximity to Aeryon tent

"Father, do you want to meet Chief Aeryon?"

Durka smiles a bit and nodded

"Sent a messenger to him. Tell him that I have awoken and I would visit him tomorrow"

Durka knows that now, he is subordinate to Aeryon. So, he should give him the respect of the Chief.

Aware of his subordinate position to Aeryon, Durka understood the need to show the chief proper respect.

While he no longer held the same leadership he once had, he acknowledged that he was now a subjugated subject under Aeryon rule.

Unless explicitly invited, he wouldn’t dare to approach Aeryon tent without adhering to the appropriate etiquette.

He wanted to avoid any misunderstandings and make sure his actions were clear.

Durka is well aware of the importance of maintaining boundaries.

Even his son had already referred to Aeryon as the Chief, so Durka knew he should bow to the circumstances and not overstep his place.

The reality of seeing Aeryon authority and influence in his tribe didn’t bother Durka as much as he initially thought.

He sighed, realizing that this change might actually be beneficial for his tribe.

Being old and without a clear successor among his sons, having a powerful tribe like Brolgadhr as their protector could offer much-needed security and stability.

"My sons are all great and talented warrior. But none of them have the trait of a leader. Letting them lead might provoke other tribes. Force and diplomacy is very important in the Steppe"

"But in the end force is more important. However, knowing my sons, they might focus too much on martial method and forget that those who fight could not fight infinitely. They must have a reason and they must have something to gain. Even the stupidest person knows to seek benefit and avoid loss"

What Durka is worried is if one of his sons take the mantle of leadership, they might bring the tribe to ruin

Durka’s worry stemmed from his deep understanding of his sons’ abilities and the challenges facing the Duhai tribe.

His sons, though strong and skilled in combat, lacked the necessary acumen for the subtler arts of leadership – trade, diplomacy, and governance.

In a larger and more powerful tribe, this might not pose as significant a problem, as advisors and specialists could fill in the gaps.

However, the Duhai tribe’s limited resources and manpower demanded a leader who could handle all aspects of governance.

He knew that the tribe’s survival and prosperity hinged not just on strength but on a delicate balance of various skills.

Trade routes had to be nurtured, alliances forged, and the welfare of the people ensured.

Without a leader who understood these intricate matters, the tribe would be vulnerable to external pressures and internal strife

In a larger tribe with a vast pool of warriors, their lack of expertise in these matters might not be as critical, as advisors could fill those gaps.

However, in the context of their small tribe, such deficiencies could lead to disastrous consequences.

While martial ability was crucial, it alone couldn’t ensure the tribe’s prosperity and security. Durka realized that relying solely on their force might be a dangerous gamble.

The Great Steppe is vast, and numerous threats loomed on the horizon. In such a volatile world, they needed more than just strong warriors to survive and thrive.

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Durka decided to retire to his tent.

"Durja, bring me to my tent"

Under the veil of the starry night, Durja gently supported his father, Durka, helping him back to their tent.

The battle had taken a toll on Durka, leaving him weak and in need of rest and sustenance. Once inside the tent, Durja carefully laid his father down on the bed, making sure he was comfortable.

"Father, do you need me to call the Ashana here?" Durja asked with concern etched on his face.

Durka seeing this felt a little bit warm in his heart

At least his sons are all filial

The Ashana were known for their healing prowess, and their presence could bring comfort to the ailing.

Durka managed a weak smile and shook his head. "Just call the servants and let them serve me some food and water," he replied in a hoarse voice. He didn’t want to trouble the Ashana with his fatigue; a simple meal would suffice.

And he did not want to be treated like a sick old man. Call it his pride

Durja nodded, understanding his father’s wishes.

He stepped out of the tent and called upon the servants, instructing them to fetch food and water for Durka.

Moments later, they returned with a humble yet nourishing meal, prepared by the Ashana.

The aroma of boiled meat seasoned with local herbs filled the air as they laid the food before Durka.

The meat is tender and easy to chew, perfect for a weakened body.

Accompanying the meat is a freshly baked flatbread, warm and comforting. It is made with grains cultivated by the tribe, providing essential sustenance in this unforgiving landscape.

To complement the meal, there was a soothing broth, carefully brewed with wild vegetables and herbs to aid in Durka’s recovery.

The water they brought is pure and crisp, drawn from a nearby spring.

As Durka partook of the nourishing meal, he felt gratitude toward his tribe and their tradition of taking care of one another.

The Ashana’s knowledge of healing herbs and remedies had served them well for generations, ensuring the survival of their people in the harsh wilderness.

With each bite, Durka could feel his strength returning, albeit slowly.

He knew that rest and time were his allies now, and he settled back into his bed, closing his eyes.

The soft glow of the oil lamps within the tent provided a warm ambiance, and as he drifted into slumber, he felt a sense of reassurance and protection enveloping him.

Outside, the night was alive with the sounds of the Great Steppe, and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures filled the air.

Within the tent, Durka embraced the tranquillity of the moment

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