Chapter 259: Not Here to Raid!

"Western tribal army? How is that possible? Are you all seeing things? This is the southeastern border!"

This cavalry squad was stationed by Ukadi five or six li away as a precaution.

He suspected that Lord Parker's castle might have been the work of Gervas, so he had to be on guard.

But he never expected the cavalry to bring such news.

Not only did he not believe it, even Mil and several minor nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

Having fought the Western Tribes just a few months ago, they knew better than anyone the tribes' range of operations.

"Lord Ukadi, I swear I'm not mistaken—it's truly a tribal army!"

"At first, we were just as shocked—how could such strangely dressed troops suddenly appear in Stormhold?"

"But as they drew closer and we observed more carefully, we saw they wore animal hides and linen garments, adorned with bone and tooth ornaments."

"More importantly, we clearly saw bone flags among their ranks!"

"Bone flags? Are you certain?"

Mil and the others were stunned.

Because bone flags were indeed the most reliable identifier of Western Tribes.

Only Western Tribes, beast folk, and savages used such banners.

And the appearance and physique of savages and beast folk were instantly recognizable.

So they believed these cavalrymen would not confuse the three.

"Yes, they are definitely bone flags—we wouldn't mistake them!" The cavalrymen, though unfamiliar with Mil and the others, answered immediately.

"How many are there altogether?" Ukadi's face had turned grim.

"About four hundred, including over a hundred tribal cavalry."

"Over a hundred tribal cavalry?"

Everyone's expression shifted again and again.

Tribal warriors were already formidable fighters; with a hundred cavalry, they had no chance of standing against them head-on.

"Lord Gervas, please let us enter your castle for shelter! We'll help you defend against them!"

Ukadi feared his earlier unpleasantness might cause Gervas to shut the gates on him.

Mil also waited for Gervas's reply, for the sooner they reached the castle, the safer they'd feel.

But Gervas merely waved to calm them, "Lord Ukadi, no need to panic—there's no need for any of you to take shelter inside the castle…"

"Lord Gervas, the cruelty of the Western savages is well known—how could we not panic?!"

"Also, my earlier offense was not intentional—it was my duty. Please, Lord Gervas, don't hold it against me!"

Before Gervas could finish, Ukadi immediately interrupted, interpreting his words as a dismissive refusal.

Gervas was speechless—this man truly thought him petty.

"Lord Ukadi, you misunderstand—I'm not keeping you out because of what happened before!"

"It's simply unnecessary, because those Western savages aren't here to raid."

"Not here to raid? Then are they here to visit?"

Ukadi still didn't believe it.

Of course, he dared not say that aloud—he still hoped to take shelter in Gervas's castle.

Gervas knew he didn't believe him. Seeing the swift-magic hawk in the distance flying toward him, he guessed the tribal force had entered the alert zone and was now very near the castle.

"Actually, that tribal army is here to ransom someone."

"Ransom someone?" Ukadi froze.

Mil and the others also stared blankly—what person could the tribal army have traveled so far to ransom?

Weren't all the tribal heirs released after the kingdom's war?

Catherine also looked at Gervas with curiosity, her sapphire-blue eyes fixed on him without blinking.

Because she knew Gervas wasn't lying now.

"About a month ago, a tribal force secretly infiltrated Stormhold and launched a night raid on my castle!"

"Fortunately, my lands were well guarded—we spotted them early, killed most of the attacking savages!"

"And we captured several tribal members, several of whom were tribal heirs."

"By the way, one of them is the daughter of the Silver Moon Tribe's chieftain—the maid you just saw, Catherine."

"No wonder!" Catherine instantly understood.

She had previously wondered why Gervas's maid looked so much like a Western savage.

Though Western tribal women didn't need tattoos, their demeanor and facial features were subtly different.

Now it was clear—she hadn't been mistaken; the maid truly was a Western savage.

"The daughter of the Silver Moon chieftain? Gervas, isn't she practically a princess of the Western Tribes?"

"And rumors say the Silver Moon chieftain has only this one daughter—no other heirs!" Mil and the others exclaimed in shock.

"Correct—she can certainly be called a princess of the Western Tribes. Whether she's truly the chieftain's only daughter? Probably—rumors say so," Gervas confirmed.

Instantly, the nobles fell silent, their gazes toward Gervas filled with complex emotion.

For decades, the Western Tribes had been the greatest threat to the kingdom's southwestern border.

Even the king's repeated overtures had been ignored.

Yet this defiant Western tribe had been humiliated twice by Gervas—a mere minor border lord.

If this got out, it would shock everyone to the core.

…

"Respected Lord Gervas, I am the Third Elder of the Silver Moon Tribe. I've come to Stormhold under the chieftain's orders to ransom Princess and the tribal heirs!"

"First, on behalf of the Silver Moon Tribe, I apologize—Princess Freya and the heirs were misled by malicious parties!"

"Please forgive their rashness and impulsiveness!"

More than ten minutes later, the tribal army of four hundred arrived at the castle gates.

Under Ukadi and Mil's watchful eyes, an elderly tribal man carrying a bone staff stepped onto the gentle slope and bowed respectfully to Gervas.

The sight of savages behaving so politely left Mil, Ukadi, Ke, and the minor nobles exchanging stunned glances.

Savages were never described this way in legend.

Legends painted them as bloodthirsty, savage, and cruel.

Of course, in savage legends, humans were equally deceitful, shameless, and greedy.

But beyond their hatred, tribal savages were merely different in skin tone and tattoos from kingdom folk.

In all other respects, both were pure human beings.

"Third Elder, I fully understand the recklessness of youth—so I understand Princess Freya and the heirs' impulsiveness!"

"Now, tell me what sincerity you've brought this time."

"If your sincerity is sufficient, I'll immediately forgive Princess Freya and the heirs' transgressions," Gervas said in the tone of a mature man.

In truth, most of those "youths" were several years older than him.