They tied the slave and dragged him behind the horse. Galloping back to the encampment, they arrived late at night.

"Father!" Sagy ran happily into the chieftain's great tent, shouting as he went, "Come quickly and see our spoils of war!"

Galand didn't want to disturb the Great Chieftain's rest, so he waited outside.

The barbarian tribes lived together in groups on the wasteland, with each tribe consisting of several allied clans. Tracing back through history, the clans were all connected by blood. The closer the blood ties to the chieftain's clan, the higher the status within the tribe.

At the center of the tribal encampment were about ten great tents. Three belonged to the chieftain, while the others belonged to his vassal clans. In addition, surrounding the great tents, there were several smaller tents gathered together, each one housing a family.

They did not permanently reside here. In order to graze their livestock, the tribe's encampment would relocate irregularly. And the entire tribe contained even more clans. Those people lived dispersed throughout the territory. It was said that the total number exceeded three hundred households.

When Galand's mother was alive, she also lived in the encampment, in a great tent next to the chieftain’s. But later she had to personally tend the livestock to make a living. Galand was too young then to remember which tent they had lived in back then.

In recent times, as Galand grew older, his appearance became increasingly different from the other tribespeople, unconsciously distancing himself from them. Returning to the encampment made him feel like a stranger. He had never stepped into the chieftain's tent, silently waiting outside.

He waited for a long time without Sagy emerging, and he almost fell asleep.

"Wake up, everyone - don't sleep! Let's celebrate together!"

Suddenly tribespeople ran out from the great tent, going to each clan's tents to shout loudly.

The youth was startled awake. He was still a little confused.

The chieftain's vassals gradually came out, excitedly rushing in all directions to wake every household in the encampment. Holding up the spoils of war, they announced, "Our Prince Sagy is invincible, singlehandedly killing two northern castle soldiers!"

The tribespeople who had been fast asleep emerged from their tents. Hearing the chieftain's vassals make this proclamation, they also began to cheer, gathering around the chieftain's great tent with torches.

"Is our little prince so brave?"

"Of course! Just look at these spoils of war! The blood is still on this iron helmet!"

"What, let me see - "

The tribespeople passed the spoils amongst themselves, praising them endlessly. Since they were victorious, celebrating was called for. Galand was jostled by them as he stood in front of the great tent waiting for the chieftain to speak.

Then he saw the vassals pull back the entrance to the great tent, and the chieftain walked out holding Sagy's hand, smiling proudly with a flush of success on his face as he showed off.

"Tonight is worth celebrating. My little son fought bravely and killed two northern castle soldiers beneath his horse's hooves. These are the mementos he brought back."

The tribal general walked out from one side of the great tent, coming to the chieftain's side to offer praise.

"These spoils are valuable. The prince has accomplished greatly at such a young age."

The clan elders of the other great families also chimed in, "The prince brings glory to the tribe, truly worthy as the ancestor's descendant!"

The chieftain ordered the spoils to be hung high to showcase the prince's feat. He also ordered everyone to prepare a bonfire, and the tribespeople would sing and dance all night, telling their ancestors the story of the little prince.

The tribespeople immediately busied themselves with preparations. It was then that Galand caught sight of Sagy hiding behind the chieftain. His brother's face was full of grievance.

"Father, father - " Sagy's tender voice kept calling out, "I already said it was brother, my brother he..."

"Silence! No more of this talk!" the chieftain scolded. "Go play to one side."

Seeing his father so unreasonable, tears welled up in Sagy's eyes, spinning in his eye sockets. He ran out and threw himself into his brother's arms, sadly saying, "Brother, it wasn't like this! Father didn't even listen to me, it was clearly all you..."

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"There, there, it's alright." Galand stroked Sagy's head gently, and said softly, "Those enemies, they were all killed for the sake of the future chieftain - you. The ones I killed are the same as the ones you killed."

Sagy touched his brother's tunic. The bloodstains on Galand's body had not yet dried.

The chieftain glimpsed Sagy being intimate with Galand, whispering privately, and his brow furrowed slightly.

"Galand, come over, I need to talk to you."

"Oh, coming."

The youth pushed Sagy aside and followed the chieftain into the great tent. The rugs inside the great tent were all beasts' pelts, soft and comfortable underfoot. The chieftain dismissed his vassals and sat alone.

"Chieftain." Galand asked again if all was well.

"Mm." He looked down sternly, revealing a sort of angry yet benevolent smile, staring fixedly at the youth.

Galand remembered that odd fellow was still tied to the horse's rump. He didn't know how that situation should be handled, so he reported:

"On the way back today, we also captured a slave."

"A slave?"

"Yes. He's outside." The youth became excited talking about this.

"He's a fellow who can speak both our tribal language and the northern tongue. He said the northerners are gathering an army to deal with us, and he knows everything, he can tell us details about the northern castle."

Galand spoke enthusiastically, but the chieftain wasn't listening at all. A tribesman responsible for preparing the bonfire ran in to ask a question. The chieftain waved his hand dismissively, signaling him to wait, and became engrossed with tonight's celebration.

Galand waited for a long time, only to find that the Great Chieftain seemed to have already forgotten about the slave's situation, and had moved on to speaking of other matters. The chieftain spoke solemnly:

"Nephew - you are a valorous warrior, worthy of the name Galand. I have always been very clear on this."

The youth nodded seriously. His name, Galand, meant "courage", a warrior's name.

"You call me chieftain just like the rest, but you are not the same. You are my sister's son, my nephew, my closest kin."

The chieftain sighed, seemingly reminiscing about the past, with fresh tear tracks in his eyes.

"I have no other offspring, Sagy is my only son. You are closer than brothers by blood, and I am extremely gratified to see the depth of affection between you."

"Mm."

"One day, Sagy will inherit my position and become chieftain of the tribe. At that time, you will be his general to assist him."

"You two will be the most trustworthy of companions for each other, and also the only dependable support."

"I'll remember that," Galand replied.

He didn't fully comprehend the purpose behind these weighty words. Elders always seemed to say such meaningful things, so he would take them as sincere advice for the time being. Just as he was about to ask about the slave again, the chieftain had tired and signaled for him to leave.

Outside, the bonfire was ready. The tribespeople had changed into celebratory attire and encircled the bonfire, cheering.

At the height of the lively atmosphere, the chieftain also emerged in ceremonial garb, accompanied by his vassals, with Prince Sagy at his side. Galand carefully slipped out from the crowd, hiding behind them. Rowdy festivities had never been his forte.

Reciting tales of heroic deeds to the ancestors was a traditional activity. The chieftain began by singing a chant, the content being tribal history passed down orally. With the endless night ahead, the tribe's history could be recounted from the very distant past.

"The endless wasteland is our homeland, from the place in the east where the sun rises, to the place in the west where the sun sets; from the north where winter reigns, to the south ruled by scorching heat. We are descendants of the ancestors."

"Forty years ago, a force rose in the eastern wasteland. A chieftain unified all the tribes and led a great army that trod across the wasteland. We called him the Great Chieftain who shone upon the wasteland like the sun."

"Following him on his campaigns of conquest, we three tribes of shared bloodlines - Koz, Kheldan, and distant Sezha, like his eyes, wings and claws - arrived here. We were invincible and unvanquished in battle. We fought all the way to the edge of the wasteland."

"Our present location is the edge of the wasteland. Beyond are rocky mountains without water or grass. We have guarded this land for the Great Chieftain, for ten years now."

Galand listened and felt extremely upset in his heart - not for that chieftain, but for himself.

The plague from ten years ago had also taken his mother, the tribal princess. All these years, he had struggled to recall his mother's appearance, but could remember almost nothing, since he had been so young at the time. Whenever he saw Sagy chatting happily with the chieftain, Galand envied them greatly.

The chieftain concluded his speech, but the celebration continued. The tribespeople skilled in singing and dancing now told tales of heroes past. This time, Prince Sagy's military achievement was placed alongside the heroic legends, equally glorified.

They sang and danced, repeating the familiar stories over and over.

Suddenly, jarring drumbeats sounded. The tribal shaman arrived at the bonfire accompanied by attendants. His garb was the most intricate, naturally arriving last. Moreover, the shaman's status in the tribe was even higher than the chieftain's. He was the messenger of the gods, with almost godlike supreme authority.

The shaman's entire body was clad in ceremonial strips of black cloth along with black plumage on his back.

He and his attendants held leather drums and bone drumsticks, dancing while beating them as they slowly approached through the crowd. The tribespeople also reverently moved aside with the highest courtesy to welcome him.

"Caw!"

The shaman let out a long piercing shriek, his voice slicing through the night sky. This was a sacred ritual for beseeching the gods, its mysteries comprehensible only to him.

The shaman had the appearance of a half-man - half human, half raven. He had the head of a raven on his neck. The bird's beak could emit various caws and cries, mournful and lamenting.

The raven head was no mask, but a real head. He had always looked this way, even without ceremonial garb he retained the form of a raven-headed man. He would eat raw meat like a raven. Usually the tribespeople took turns sacrificing their livestock to provide for his meals.

Galand had heard the shaman possessed powerful magic. Through summoning spirits, he could enable tribespeople to converse with deceased loved ones.

How he hoped the shaman could help him meet his mother again, and hear her voice.

Yet for some reason, the shaman always rejected Galand's offerings. No matter what sacrifices he prepared, they would be refused. Not only that, the shaman also declined to answer any of Galand's questions. This was probably why Galand was shunned by the tribe as well.

After all, who would like someone spurned by the gods' own emissary?