Chapter 99

< 98. Warlord Meeting (2) >

*

If you were to name the most influential figures who pushed the world to the brink of apocalypse, aside from Faijashi in his prime, there were at least five others who wielded that level of power.

Among them was the one who initiated the Great War. Leading tens of thousands of cavalry, he came charging from the distant southeastern plains—the mighty conqueror, Karadskar.

Karadskar. Kagan of the Five Thousand Great Gers. Demon King of the Hundred Horse Tribes. Scar of the World. The Burner. Slaughterer of the Wheel.

If you drew a straight line on the map along his path of advance, no village, city, or kingdom survived in its wake. Everything was burned, trampled, and plundered. Those larger than a wagon wheel were dismembered and killed, while smaller ones were stuffed into sacks and crushed under hooves.

What he desired was singular: the mad ambition to leave his name as a scar upon the world. He conquered, plundered, and shared the spoils generously with his brothers.

The place where his advance halted was here, in the western Great Wilderness. And the one who stopped him was her.

Fernandez watched Kirhas Hearttaker’s back as she slowly walked toward the table.

‘The Shield of the Western Great Wilderness. Kirhas Hearttaker.’

The great hero who handed defeat to the undefeated Karadskar. A natural-born tactician and warrior who rallied the shattered forces of Kirzat, the scattered armies of the Beastman Nobility, and the refugee columns of the destroyed minor civilizations to secure victory against Karadskar!

There were three main reasons why she could command the full support and loyalty of the Federation of Beastmen Nobles.

First, her immense personal combat prowess. Her perfected strength, capable of standing against a Great Demon, and the numerous heroic achievements she had accomplished based on that power.

Second, her background. After her tribe was annihilated and she was sold into slavery, she defeated the demon-worshippers who bought her, escaped, and slowly built her power from nothing in the wasteland—a story that inspired awe.

And finally, the trials she endured at the sacred site of the Kalini Clan. She resurrected one of the Beastmen’s ancestral gods, the ‘Hunting God Kadán,’ received direct baptism from the revived god, and was sanctified as a saint, reviving the lost faith of the Beastmen’s ancestral gods.

‘Her combat prowess is still incomplete, and her background is rather lacking.’

Her combat skills had developed to an unprecedented level among her peers. Thanks to her numerous battle experiences, systematic training, and innate talent, she was just beginning to bloom.

But “just beginning to bloom” wasn’t enough to convince the strict elders of the Federation of Beastmen. And her achievements to prove her strength were still insufficient.

Moreover, her background. Being “saved” by a slave trader and serving as an Inquisition Officer in the Temple of the Gods wasn’t a background that would win favor among the Beastmen. They acknowledged the temple’s authority but did not submit to it.

Then. Fernandez watched as an elder slowly placed his hand on the golden mask on the table. With trembling hands, the elder began to stroke Kadán’s jackal mask.

-Crackle!

“Aaargh!!”

Sparks flew from the elder’s fingertips, and his right hand turned black and charred. The elder screamed, threw the mask, and stumbled back, gasping for breath.

“W-what happened?”

“Was it cursed?!”

“No, no!”

The elder looked at the mask with awe, swallowing hard. His charred right hand trembled uncontrollably.

“I am unworthy! Perhaps all of us are. Oh, my god. In our time, he has truly returned. The Hunting God has returned!”

“Kirhas.”

Fernandez called her quietly. She didn’t turn to look at him, only nodding slightly.

Soon, her delicate hand grasped the edge of the mask and lifted it.

“Oh, oh.”

The elders collectively gasped. Beyond political views and preferences, the sacredness of witnessing the revival of a lost faith filled the room.

This was no mere ancient relic or symbol from an old temple. This pressure. This divinity. The Beastmen elders instinctively felt the powerful soul slumbering beneath that mask.

The resurrection of an ancestral god. Even before better evidence, they already sensed that the mask contained Kadán’s soul.

[Serve me…]

‘No.’

[Serve me…]

Kirhas frowned at the jackal god’s voice echoing in her head. Her faith lay not in gods but in her lord. She grumbled inwardly.

‘Just be quiet for a moment. Let’s keep it simple. If you need worshippers, talk to them. I’ll help.’

[You are unworthy.]

‘Me?’

[Serve me…]

Kirhas let out a deep sigh. This felt less like dealing with a god and more like handling a broken wind-up toy that kept repeating the same thing.

She suppressed the urge to look at Fernandez, maintaining a dignified expression as she gazed at the council. The elders swallowed hard under the pressure, staring at the golden mask in her hand.

“My name is Kirhas, Kirhas Hearttaker of the Kalini Clan. Greetings, esteemed elders. As the representative of the Kalini Clan, or as one anointed by Kadán, am I qualified?”

An elder groaned briefly before cautiously continuing.

“The conditions for joining the council are being a tribal elder or a high shaman or prophet. Kirhas, for what purpose do you seek to join?”

The elder looked deflated. Fernandez admired the elder’s courage to speak up despite the divine pressure.

Resisting Kadán’s dominance as a member of the Beastmen required immense courage. Fernandez glanced at Partak, who stood with his arms crossed in a corner of the room.

‘He’s a dove.’

Partak shook his head slightly, signaling his stance. He was part of the Empire’s dove faction, the group least welcoming to Kirhas’s sudden appearance.

Kirhas’s emerald eyes sparkled as she addressed the elder.

“As the representative of my clan. My agenda is vengeance. Vengeance for the Kalini Clan, burned to ashes!”

The elder hesitated. In principle, if a clan within the Federation of Nobles was attacked by an external force, no matter how minor the tribe, all clans in the federation were obligated to seek vengeance.

But how could they avenge a tribe that had been burned years ago by slave hunters? The target of vengeance itself was vague. The elder glanced at Partak…





Taku glanced sideways.

‘What’s the purpose?’

The purpose of that old man choosing to stand on his own instead of siding with the Emperor or the Sultan. The purpose of bringing the beastman girl who suddenly claimed to have received a divine revelation. There must be a clear purpose behind pulling out such an unexpected wildcard.

All elders act with political motives. The elder straightened his complex thoughts and spoke.

“Whose revenge is this?”

“Against the world!”

Kirhas’s turquoise eyes burned brightly. She slammed Kadán’s golden mask onto the table and shouted.

“Respected elders. I seek revenge against the world. After the fall of the Kalani Clan, I was sold into slavery and wandered through human cities. What I witnessed was nothing but persecution, discrimination, and hatred!”

Kirhas’s arm pointed to the map. The Great Wilderness was marked with the chaotic borders and locations of numerous tribes.

“Glory to the great Federation of Nobles! We have been reduced to prey, fleeing from slave hunters, crouching in the gaps between powerful nations, merely hoping and praying to survive. We swore to stand back-to-back, to at least not turn our blades against each other. But what is the reality?”

-Bang!

Kirhas’s raised arm slammed the table again. The elders stared at her eyes, keeping their mouths shut.

“Peace with the Empire is the plea of the defeated. Relying on the Sultan’s favor is the same! Those civilized nations who call us barbarians only wish for us to become slaves or mercenaries. Since when has our situation been like this? Since when have we been reduced to prey?”

Not all elders agreed with her passionate speech. They were seasoned politicians, too experienced to be swayed by mere passion. Yet, the authority of the gods commanded their silence.

Thus, Kirhas was fortunately able to continue without interruption.

“That vast wilderness was our home, and that high sky was our ceiling. We have no borders. The entire world is our domain! But, respected elders, the status of the Beastman Nobility is lower than ever before. The pride forged by countless heroes is now treated as mere war supplies consumed in the power struggles of the great nations!”

“So, what do you propose?”

An elder cautiously asked. It was a passionate speech, but this alone couldn’t grasp Partak’s intentions. To oppose both the Emperor and the Sultan? What could we, or rather, Partak, possibly gain from that?

“One sovereign, one tribe, and one purpose! I wish for a firmly established domain through the united strength of the Federation of Nobles. And thus, revenge! Revenge against the world!”

The elders’ eyebrows twitched at Kirhas’s words. A dangerous statement! This woman was now advocating for the election of the Chieftain of the Federation of Beastmen.

“Therefore, elders. I declare that the season of hunting has returned.”

Kirhas placed Kadán’s golden mask on the table and sat down. Silence filled the meeting room. Fernandez stood quietly behind Kirhas, arms crossed.

‘Impressive.’

-Even better than the script I wrote yesterday.

‘Charisma and leadership. No one surpassed Kirhas in these two qualities back then. It seems she’s beginning to bloom from this point.’

In the scenario planned by Fernandez and Partak last night, perhaps the most crucial and challenging role was the speech Kirhas had just delivered.

Yet, Kirhas not only memorized the script prepared by Fernandez but delivered an even more compelling oration. Her experience as a fallen slave, having truly wandered through those horrific slave markets, added an undeniable weight of authenticity.

“Madness!”

An elder shouted, jumping to his feet. Though momentarily intimidated by Kirhas’s blazing eyes, he soon burst into a fit of coughing and yelled.

“A Chieftain? Do you have the qualifications for that? You’re just a beastman from a slave background, nothing more!”

“Are you doubting her qualifications now, Jas of Kadihor?”

Partak spoke quietly, and the elder flinched.

“The God of Hunting has declared the season of hunting through his representative. How can we, mere mortals, question his qualifications?”

“…The gods do not shed blood for us!”

The elder shouted. He had no intention of swearing allegiance or loyalty to Kirhas, a foreign beastman girl. Much less to their god, who had been absent for a thousand years.

“It has always been our tribe’s youth who shed blood. To endure the bleeding? For our pride? That’s idealism! And if we become obsessed with ideals and neglect the safety of our tribe, that would be dereliction of duty.”

“Idealism, huh. Then what is the reality?”

“I know what you desire, Partak. Don’t pretend to act for the Federation. Prophet of Kadán, you are being deceived!”

The elder pointed at Partak and shouted.

“That man dreams not of revenge, hunting, or ideals for our federation. His mind is filled only with more power and greater strength. You are being played by his bait of passion and vengeance!”

“Enough!”

Another elder shouted. The doves. Partak’s eyes narrowed.

“I declare the session closed! This matter exceeds our authority. Each elder must convey this issue to their clan leaders!”

“Agreed!”

Before Kirhas could say anything, the elders quickly left their seats. They were fleeing from her and the god she held in her hands.

As they receded like the tide, only seven elders remained in the room.

“Assassination, or war, must be prepared for. Partak Blackfang.”

After a moment of silence, one of the remaining elders spoke. Partak scanned the faces of the elders who stayed.

The third faction. Neutral hawkish elders. They claimed independent authority and sought to benefit from the middle ground. If they could turn their backs on divine authority, it would be perfect.

Partak smiled at these cunning individuals and then looked at Fernandez, who had been silently observing the situation.

“So it seems, Master.”

The elders’ expressions twisted in shock. ‘Master?’ Their heads turned sharply toward the human sitting in the corner, who had been quietly observing.

The young human man, arms crossed, spoke in a low voice.

“Good.”

Assassination and war. Fortunately, both were his areas of expertise. Fernandez smiled coldly. Seeing this, the elders finally realized.

Why and how Partak, a follower of demons and a member of the Kirzat hawks, could bring the Prophet of Kadán.

Was Partak behind the Prophet of Kadán? No. That woman was not a puppet of Kadán or Partak, and that young man was not merely her attendant.

The elders groaned in terror. The departed elders were mistaken. They would think Partak was using the Prophet of Kadán to seize power, to abuse the authority of the Chieftain from behind the scenes!

Rather, Partak was their puppet. Fernandez slowly unfolded his arms and turned toward the map. The massive map marked with the tribes of the Federation of Beastmen Nobles.

“The season of hunting has arrived.”