Chapter 8

“You,” Saraca leaned forward. “What’s your vocation?”

“Noooooo!!!”

The Human male fled with a shriek. It was a flight that only lasted up to the bars of his cage. The entire thing shuddered as he knocked himself out.

I guess we won’t be able to speak properly in this sort of environment…

Having Mitra do the talking was an option, but that would probably lead to hours of curious – and annoying – questions by Khhschlr.

The ‘guru’ peered down at the unconscious Human, who was lying in an expanding pool of his own excrement.

“Hmm…this one appears to be defective,” the guru said. “Still, I assure you that he’s still perfectly edible.”

Saraca wordlessly turned away from the line of cages and their quivering Human occupants. All of them were pressed against the furthest corners of their prisons, trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

“Is there some location where the Humans are less…panicky?” He asked.

“We would have to leave the city for that,” Khhschlr answered. “Are you sure you don’t want to take another look around?”

“That can wait until later. Let’s focus on one thing at a time.”

“Very well, one moment while I arrange for an escort.”

“I already have an escort.”

Khhschlr eyed him silently for a moment before turning to walk out of the market.

Eastwatch and the settlements along the Rol’en’gorek had been emptied of Humans. Whether they had been claimed as slaves or worked for the Beastman tribes in some other way wasn’t clear, but the officials made it sound as if they had been purposely moved away from the river’s vicinity to prevent any incidents from happening.

At least that was how it sounded to him, and there was probably some truth to it. The feral nature of Rol’en’gorek’s Beastmen was bound to generate all sorts of problems if thousands of migrants crossed random Humans on the road.

The implications presented by the silent workshops and empty guild houses that they passed since going through Eastwatch changed for the worse the moment he saw the caged Humans in the market. Subjective values aside, Rana Dratha’s occupational policy was horrifically wasteful and Saraca couldn’t figure out why they had chosen to do things the way that they did.

His gaze went to the guru in front of him, whose striped tail twitched back and forth in a self-satisfied way as they went along.

“Out of curiosity,” Saraca asked, “why do you refer to yourself as a ‘guru’?”

“Because that’s what I am?” Khhschlr answered, “I’ve been together with Rana Dratha since we were cubs. The conquest of the Draconic Kingdom is as much my dream as it is his. He handled the military end of things while I helped figure out everything else. Once he took over as the Lord of Clan Torokgha, we started putting our plans into action. He and I didn’t always see eye to eye on various issues, but, well, here we are.”

“What was Rol’en’gorek’s relationship with the Draconic Kingdom before you started your conquest? I’ve spoken with several of the eastern Lords, but they don’t offer much in the way of details.”

“It was much like the relationship with our other neighbours,” the guru replied. “The other parts of Rol’en’gorek don’t consider the western region to be as challenging, which led to us being looked down upon. Even though Humans can be quite powerful, we had to work very hard to receive any sort of recognition. They are certainly more organised than any of our other enemies.”

As he understood it, the Draconic Kingdom never attacked Rol’en’gorek. The odd history of the region suggested that something beyond being a neighbour to raid lay behind the two sides’ relationship. To those in the present day, however, it was just something that always was. Also, regardless of race, border Lords tended towards a sort of pragmatic antagonism against outsiders, so that didn’t help with the situation either.

“Your progress seems to suggest otherwise,” Saraca noted. “I believe that if any notable battles occurred, your criers would have announced it as a great victory to inspire the masses back at home.”

“Yes, well, for months now, we had doubts about whether the Humans were truly spent or not. From what we’ve seen in the past, their defences are layered. They have patrols that regularly clash with tribal warbands throughout the year, but they’re merely a fragile shell that acts to blunt our raids. Their strongest defenders don’t come out until their cities fall under threat. A few times, they appeared after their cities fell.”

Rana Saj had mentioned something to that effect. It was a common strategy for not just Humans, but any race that had to deal with regular raids from powerful neighbours. Making an entire border impregnable was practically impossible, so the priorities of national defence revolved around defending a state’s industrial and economic cores.

Those dwelling on the fringes of such a nation were essentially a buffer against any major damage to the state. It was a cold and calculating way to go about doing things, but it was essential to survival when other avenues of diplomacy were not an option.

“It’s a pragmatic strategy when one’s borders are impossible to secure,” Saraca said. “Where do your doubts come in?”

“They never showed up,” Khhschlr shrugged. “We expected to face extraordinarily stiff resistance after a city or two, but it didn’t happen. There was harassment by a few strong individuals at most. The entire country simply fell as we advanced. The common consensus now is that we overestimated their defensive strength and overwhelmed them with a real offensive. Overkill, so to speak.”

Was that possible? He could see them slowly wearing down a defending army with their never-ending stream of migrants, but it wasn’t something that should have happened so quickly. Assuming that those defenders never showed up, it was more likely that they had been lost in some other conflict.

“Do you know how large the Draconic Kingdom is?”

“The Rol’en’gorek runs an additional three hundred kilometres from Eastwatch to the coast. Human settlement has reached the coast beyond the mountains you see on the horizon to the south. The coast there is about a hundred kilometres from us. From the mouth of the Rol’en’gorek, the coastline runs another three hundred kilometres northwest. Near the end of that is an uninhabited grassland next to an Undead-infested wasteland. We assume that that’s the full extent of the Draconic Kingdom.”

Saraca’s eyes narrowed at the last part of Khhschlr’s description.

“There’s a negative energy zone here? How large is it? Is it persistent?”

“I-I’m not sure?” Khhschlr replied, “We’ve never seen the like before, but the Undead encountered there are weak enough. Zombies and Skeletons and such. I advised the clans moving into the area to hire one of the mercenary groups that came with us for security just in case.”

“Do you know who they hired?”

“A contingent from Clan Ki’ra. We receive reports on occasion, but nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”

It looked like Goro ended up about as far away as he could be from Rol’en’gorek, but they would probably end up seeing him anyway. Since a negative energy zone had been identified there, Karuvaki would want to catalogue it for the Confederacy’s archives.

They left the city out of its southern gate, walking up a paved highway that followed a small river valley. As with the lands along the Rol’en’gorek, both sides of the river were transformed into agricultural lands as far as the eye could see.

The country roads created a network connecting the villages that dotted the slopes two to three kilometres apart from one another, and towns were built after every third village or so. It was a layout that he could easily make sense of, defining the logistical standards – and thus the limitations – of the civilisation that rose in the area.

“The way that this land has been developed doesn’t lend well to habitation by at least half of your confederation’s member races,” Saraca noted. “How are you addressing that?”

“Our migrants mostly settle outside of the Human towns and villages,” Khhschlr replied. “What you saw on the way from Eastwatch was the exception to the rule. People usually live in the copses you see near every Human community.”

“So you know what copses are,” Devi said.

“We’ve used them for generations,” the guru said, “but we didn’t know what the Humans called them until recently. In the past, we saw them as convenient groves for our raiding parties to shelter in; now they’re homes for migrants. The Humans complained when the tribes occupied them. Those complaints didn’t last for long, as you might imagine.”

Saraca imagined that they wouldn’t. Since tribal chieftains were what amounted to the local administration, complaining to them was the same as demanding that they vacate their new homes. As a conquered people, the Humans would have no say in anything.

He examined the state of one of the copses as they made their way by. The stands of trees were a sort of crop that Humans rotated through from year to year. The one he was looking at was already showing signs of neglect and had started to grow wild.

“So the Humans aren’t allowed to harvest wood?” He asked.

“Not at first,” Khhschlr answered. “It took a while to figure out the appropriate balance. Also, the Draconic Kingdom’s warrior castes were still fighting us back then, so our migrants needed somewhere to stay while we dealt with them.”

“I see. So what is the ‘appropriate balance’ that you’ve determined?”

“It’s nothing ingenious,” the guru said. “We simply ensured that each tribe had enough land to sustain itself. Many have plenty of experience herding Nug, and that experience can easily be applied to Humans.”

They arrived at a crossroads a few kilometres from the city and Khhschlr turned inland, ascending the gentle valley slope. It wasn’t long until they saw their first set of Humans that weren’t in cages. They were all males tending to their crops, garbed in simple fabrics. Each had a bright yellow armband with clear markings, which he assumed identified them according to some system.

Saraca furrowed his brow at an odd detail as they went past several more teams of Humans. With her eye for efficiency, Devi of course also noted what he did.

“These Humans are pruning vineyards with their bare fingers,” she said. “They’re ploughing their fields by hand with sticks.”

“Yes, very convenient, isn’t it?” Khhschlr remarked, “The Humans feed, shelter and clothe themselves.”

“What I meant was that they can produce metal tools,” Devi told her. “Why aren’t they using them? You mentioned that you’re not exporting any tools that you find because they’re limited. Why not have the Humans make more?”

These Humans aren’t importing their metalwork from elsewhere, are they? No, we saw smithies in every town on the way here…

Khhschlr resumed walking, speaking in low tones.

“Because it’s dangerous,” she said. “They may look harmless right now, but these Humans are very rebellious. If you let them craft tools, they’ll make weapons if they can get away with it. Even when they don’t have weapons, they will resort to using implements meant for labour. A hammer; a sickle. As a result, we must deny them the means of production.”

Saraca sighed and scratched the back of his neck. One might say that a recently-conquered population undergoing forced acclimation to new systems had every reason to rebel, but humanoids tended to take heedless, unnecessary risks. In many ways, they were more like insectoids than Beastmen, except they were most often driven by selfish motives. It was one of the main reasons why humanoid species were seen as problematic by the rest of the world: they were barely stronger than Goblins, yet they acted as if they were Trolls.

“In that case,” Saraca asked, “do you have ongoing issues with Human resistance?”

“We do,” Khhschlr replied gravely. “Much of the Human population fled into the mountains in the south. The Con tribes are hunting them down, but the Humans have prepared well. They have countless caves and strongholds stocked with weapons and supplies, and the fighting is fierce.”

If Clan Torokgha was relying on civilian tribes to fight those Humans, they would have a major problem on their hands. Humans were renowned for how they could become anything with relative ease, and Farmers fighting desperately in the mountains could rapidly transform into Rangers capable of turning tribes of the civilian castes.

Since the Draconic Kingdom had a proper military, he imagined that their warrior caste was nowhere near done yet. Hundreds of thousands of Farmers could become hundreds of thousands of soldiers. By the time Clan Torokgha realised that the raided had become the raiders, the Humans would be ready to launch their counteroffensive.

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They left the road to go to a copse inhabited by a Baagh tribe. A female Lord was just outside of it, speaking to several mystics. They turned to greet Khhschlr as she came close.

“Khhschlr,” the chieftain said. “Welcome. What brings you here today?”

“We have some guests from afar,” Khhschlr replied. “They’re curious about how the tribes are faring in this new land. This is Grakghla, the local Lord. Grakghla, er…did I ever get your name?”

Devi stepped forward, gesturing toward Saraca.

“This is Saraca. My name is Devi. I’m a Merchant authorised to negotiate on my clan’s behalf.”

『Ahaha, look at Grakghla perk up. Devi’s such a meanie.』

The notion that her tribe might be able to secure a trading partner understandably piqued Grakghla’s interest. Saraca glanced at Khhschlr, but the guru seemed content to observe them.

“You’re interested in Humans?” Grakghla asked.

“Among other things,” Devi answered. “Do you import any goods from upriver?”

“Food, mostly. It will be some time before our herds grow large enough to live off of, never mind export. We appreciate your interest, however.”

“May we take a look at your operations? I’d like to develop a sense of fair value for your goods.”

“Of course. I can’t show you everything in a day, but the nearby village should provide a good idea of how things work.”

They returned to the road and went the rest of the way to the village. The few visible Humans in the settlement made themselves scarce long before they arrived, retreating into their timber-framed homes.

“This village currently has two hundred Humans,” Grakghla said. “Our tribe has ten villages in its territory.”

“How many members does your tribe have?”

“One hundred. Khhschlr kindly worked with us to determine how large we should be to start.”

Two thousand Humans for one hundred Baagh…

The numbers didn’t add up. An adult Baagh civilian went through about two adult Humans’ worth of meat in a month. A tribe of a hundred would go through twenty-four hundred Human adults in a year.

“So you’re importing meat from upriver to supplement your dietary needs for the time being,” Devi said. “How are you paying for it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“We have our plunder from the conquest,” Grakghla replied. “Much of it ends up in the markets across the Great Lut. We have enough to import preserved meat from home for decades at current prices.”

Saraca tried catching a glimpse of the Humans in their homes, but every window was shuttered fast. The yards and village lanes looked pitifully bare, especially since he could see where many of the Humans’ belongings once were. The only signs of life were the wisps of woodsmoke curling up from the chimneys of each building.

“Have you considered other exports?” Devi asked, “The livestock that the Humans have been raising, for instance? Or maybe fodder for the Nug in Rol’en’gorek?”

“Yes, in fact,” Grakghla answered. “Our Merchants have identified several types of wine. Human liquor is poisonous to us, but it sells well in the Great Lut. It’s an unexpected bonus and we’re working hard to restore production.”

“In that case, what about other Human industries? I understand that it’s still early and you’re learning as you go, but the industrial capacity of the Draconic Kingdom is grossly underutilised. Rol’en’gorek would stand to gain much from it.”

The tribal chieftain took a deep breath, sighing as she stared at the ground.

“That’s a tempting line to cross,” she said, “but these Humans can and will turn anything into a weapon. Even letting them make barrel rings for wine storage is dangerous. My husband was lenient with them. He had the same thoughts that you had, so he let the Humans make pruning shears to speed up their work. Then a gang of them stabbed him to death with those same shears while he was watching them out in the vineyards.”

“…you have our condolences for your loss,” Devi lowered her head. “I’ve broached a sensitive topic.”

“No, it’s fine,” Grakghla said. “It’s the Humans that are at fault. They can’t be trusted beyond our ability to keep them under control because they do whatever they think they can get away with.”

“On that note,” Saraca said, “The ratio of Humans to Beastmen is already very high, yet you mentioned that you’ll be increasing the population even further. How will you keep incidents like that from recurring?

“The warrior clans will be taking care of domestic security,” Khhschlr said. “One of the major advantages of this land is that we have no tribes on the frontier to deal with. Our warriors can dedicate their time and skills both to policing duties and ensuring that standards of safety are maintained. A portion of each tribe’s production will go towards sustaining that effort.”

It appeared that a basic system of land tax was developing in the Draconic Kingdom. Rol’en’gorek already had tolls for infrastructure usage and a simple system of tribal tribute, but now that was being adopted for the industries developing under Clan Torokgha’s auspices.

“In that case,” Devi said, “I wish you the best in your efforts. We’ll have to see how you’re doing in…how long will it take before you believe you’ll be ready to export Humans?”

“A bit over a decade for a regular supply,” Grakghla replied. “We’ll sell a few before then as luxury food items, of course.”

“Do Humans mature that quickly?”

Grakghla looked at Khhschlr. The guru cleared her throat.

“Our observations over the past few decades have determined that Humans reach breeding age at twelve or thirteen years of age. It’s also best to eat them before the age of thirty. This is perfect, as they are a race that requires parental care while immature. A female can give birth approximately once a year and they grow their own food, so you can see that they can be bred prodigiously.”

“So one, er, breeding pair will produce close to twenty offspring before you slaughter them?”

“Pair? Nonono, they’re just like Nug, yes? You can have one stud for every forty or fifty females. To minimise inbreeding, a tribe can trade studs with other tribes around the country.”

『I wonder if they can advertise? Come to the Draconic Kingdom, where every man has a harem. Travel opportunities included.』

Saraca glanced at Mitra. Humans did have harems in many countries around the world, but he was fairly certain that not many came in this form.

“It is our hope that we can breed the undesirable qualities out of our stock in a few generations,” Khhschlr said. “Once that happens, we’ll revisit how Human industries can contribute to our economy. The borders of these lands are secure on all sides, so our task is to lay a foundation upon which our civilisation can flourish. All of the migrants here are burdened with the destiny of our nation.”

Grakghla nodded in firm agreement with the guru. Saraca glanced at Xoc, who had been quietly following them as they discussed how the Draconic Kingdom was being managed. He hoped she wouldn’t get any strange ideas.

Once they finished looking around at her tribe’s operations, Grakghla offered them a late afternoon meal. Saraca declined as he didn’t wish to burden her tribe. On the way back to the city, a Con Lord with a half-dozen warriors jogged up to them from behind.

“Rana Chawi,” Khhschlr nodded in greeting. “How are things going in the south?”

“Slow,” Rana Chawi replied. “Those Human Lords we’re facing are tough opponents. It doesn’t help that over ninety per cent of our forces aren’t warriors. Who are these…guests?”

“The name’s Saraca. We’re here on personal business. Does what’s going on in the south threaten our dealings here?”

“Hardly,” Rana Chawi scoffed. “It’s just the sheer number of them that have holed up in the mountains. Our warriors can’t be everywhere and the Humans aren’t nice enough to wait for us to get to them. It’s not dissimilar to the fighting on the southern frontier, however, so it’s ultimately a matter of time.”

Saraca nodded at his words. Rana Chawi was no slouch: he was stronger than Rana Saj, but weaker than the members of Saraca’s house guard. On his own, he was probably sufficient to deal with thousands of Human warriors at once, so as long as the tribes under him could keep the resistance forces pinned, he could go around eliminating one group after another.

“How about the pass?” Khhschlr asked.

“It’s still not safe enough to use,” Rana Chawi answered. “The city is still under siege, as well.”

“I see.”

“I thought you said the Human armies were long broken,” Saraca said.

“This city is one we discovered only two months ago,” Khhschlr replied. “It’s a harbour that will provide better access to Stormport, so we’re trying to capture everything intact. Our current route through Rol’en’gorek and the Great Lut takes months. A sea route should only take weeks.”

“Was there any sign of the Humans conducting trade with Stormport?”

“We know that they conduct trade along their western coast, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Who knows, there may be other ports between here and there to conduct business in.”

He wasn’t so sure that was the case. Stormport was considered the western terminus of the Syrillian Way and there was likely a good reason for that. It probably had something to do with the mysterious number of Red Dragon products that were sold there.

Well, if something does happen, one could call it karmic retribution for what they’re doing here…

Rana Chawi joined them on their walk back to the city. Saraca eyed the various trophies on his person.

“Many of those metal tags make it to Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr,” he gestured at the ones draped over Rana Chawi’s neck. “The Hibiscus Glade had piles of them. Merchants there claim that they’re from powerful warriors.”

“What metals were present?”

“Copper, Iron and Silver.”

“That’s what I thought,” Rana Chawi said. “I hope you didn’t buy any thinking that they were special. The Humans with Copper and Iron plates aren’t much stronger than the average Human, while the ones with Silver plates are about the same strength as our civilian migrants.”

“And what about the cloth badges? What do they represent?”

“It’s a different system, I think. The Humans with the badges are members of warbands. The ones with the metal plates are some sort of mercenary that operates in small packs. The mercenaries are fine for raiding, but they’re ineffective against what we’re doing here.”

Mercenaries of that sort existed everywhere, and they usually did unsavoury work. Assassinations, kidnapping, theft, economic disruptions and active spying – anything that their employers wanted to avoid being implicated in.

“The plates that you have are all pretty flashy,” Saraca said. “Since they operate the way that they do, I guess that they’re the type that use their strength to serve their own ends.”

“They’re scum is what they are,” Rana Chawi agreed in vehement tones. “From what we’ve gathered, they only fight when they’re offered sufficient pay. Cities fall and millions of their people die, yet they won’t lift a claw to help without thinking they have something to gain from it. Imagine tribal Champions just watching their tribes die around them like these wretches.”

“Pitiful.”

“It’s beyond pitiful. The Draconic Kingdom’s warbands would have fared much better if those mercenaries didn’t exist. Since those selfish assholes might just escape the country entirely, I go out of my way to kill them whenever I can. The world is better off without them.”

“At least those tags make it easy to single them out,” Saraca said. “What does each metal represent? Were any a significant challenge?”

Rana Chawi pointed at one of the gold tags around his neck.

“Gold is just above silver,” he said. “They’re about as strong as a warrior that has survived two seasons of fighting on the frontier. Platinum is next, then mithril. Those are about as strong as our veteran warriors. Magic casters with platinum and mithril plates often use Third-tier magic.”

“So they’re from a variety of different castes?”

“Yeah. There are all sorts in the mix. The civilians always go after them because they want the prestige of taking down someone strong, but, half of the time, the scrawny-looking Human that they single out melts them with a stream of acid. It can be pure chaos out there.”

“How high does the Humans’ magic go?”

“Uh…I’m no expert in magic, but any casters with this Orichalcum tag can use Tier Four spells according to our mystics.”

“So Adamantite is the strongest.”

“Yep,” Rana Chawi absently fiddled with the single Adamantite tag around his neck. “This scumbag was probably a bit stronger than I am, but we still got him and his pack.”

If Humans bearing Adamantite tags were stronger than Rana Chawi, their magic casters could probably access magic of the Fifth Tier. Since the invasion hadn’t been thwarted by Sixth or Seventh Tier spells, they probably didn’t use ritual magic.

“They all had the same plates?” Saraca asked.

“Yeah,” Rana Chawi nodded. “Six of them. They had a few other packs with them that had lower plates, as well. We had to get all the Ranas and Champions together to deal with them.”

“Do you know their names?”

“No idea. Only that they were pests. Since they fight in those small packs, they can show up anywhere with no warning. Thousands of migrants died whenever that happened.”

“Mitra here has a skill that can translate the writing on those metal plates,” Saraca said. “Would you mind if she takes a look?”

“I don’t mind. Let’s hear what the name of this filth was.”

Rana Chawi removed the adamantite tag from around his neck and handed it over to Mitra. The Chaaran whispered out a Spellsong.

“Cerebrate “Fierce Flash” – Crystal Tear – Oriculon – Paladin.”

“Crystal Tear,” a rumbling growl filled Rana Chawi’s throat. “Those scum claimed to be followers of Víla? Well, that makes me extra happy we put him down.”

As he had come to pick up the Con migrants redirected by the officials at the city docks, Rana Chawi parted ways with them before they reached the city. Saraca watched as the Con Lord and his subordinates jogged off towards the camp outside of the walls.

“I don’t believe any clans in Rol’en’gorek have different races under them,” he said. “How did Rana Chawi end up under Clan Torokgha? Or is he some sort of temporary help like the fellows from Clan Ki’ra that you mentioned?”

“We went all over Rol’en’gorek searching for Lords and Champions willing to help in our cause,” Khhschlr replied. “I’m not sure how much of our home you’ve seen, but things are getting very tight. There were plenty of small tribes and clans with strong leaders willing to join the migration. It freed up space in the jungle and helped us with the conquest.”

“So they use the same system of governance as before?”

“Broadly speaking, yes. Each warrior tribe under Clan Torokgha has a set of civilian tribes under them. All of the ones that volunteered to join us have already been allocated their territories.”

“Speaking of the civilian tribes,” Saraca said, “each of those Human villages manages roughly ten square kilometres of land. If each tribe is granted one hundred square kilometres of land, that would mean the vast majority of the people migrating here won't have any territory waiting for them.”

“They’re migrants,” Khhschlr replied. "They just need to keep migrating.”

“But they’re still coming right now. They can’t migrate into the water.”

“That can’t be helped. The migrants arriving in Eastwatch today decided to come here months ago. Besides, the Maharana would not be so limited in his scope. We already have a plan in action to address the issue.”

“Explain.”

“You’ve seen the ships, yes? Moored all along the river past Eastwatch.”

“…you mean to say that you’re preparing to sail further west.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you know what’s there?”

“Our hunters have identified a strait where we can make the crossing in an hour. According to the aquatic Demihumans that reside off the coast, it is another Human country: a horrible country that wages indiscriminate war with all of its non-Human neighbours. Fanatics who worship gods that demand the extermination of all non-Humans. All agree that the world would be a much better place without them, and we are only too happy to oblige.”

Khhschlr stopped and turned to face them with a feverish glint in her eye.

“I am not religious by any stretch of the imagination, but this can only be providence, yes? Our people are destined to tame this savage frontier.”