Chapter 262: I, Gervas, Have Come!

Indeed, the Third Elder, leading the remaining Silver Moon warriors, tried to carve a path for Freya and the heirs to break through.

But in the end, nearly all the Silver Moon warriors were dead or wounded, and the escape route never opened.

At this moment, the Silver Moon tribe's original four hundred had dwindled to fewer than a hundred, completely surrounded by the attackers.

"Lasselle, I'll give you one chance: surrender peacefully, and I'll spare your lives!"

"Do you know me? Who are you?"

Lasselle was the Third Elder's name; hearing the call, he glared with bloodshot eyes, fixed on the speaker.

If killed by human ambush, even in death he would have no regrets.

But to die at the hands of his own tribe—he could never close his eyes.

"Me? Then let you see!" he laughed.

Seeing the battle was won, the leader who had earlier led the assault on the hilltop outpost slowly removed his mask.

"Dachier! It's you! You're from the Black Tiger Tribe?!"

In the next instant, the Third Elder cried out in shock.

The other tribal heirs were equally incredulous.

The Black Tiger Tribe, along with the Black Panther and Silver Wolf Tribes, was one of the three strongest in the alliance.

No one had ever imagined the traitor to the Silver Moon Grand Chief would be the Black Tiger Tribe.

"Correct—it's me. Surprised, aren't you?" Dachier sneered.

"Why?" The Third Elder's eyes burned with accusation and confusion.

The Silver Moon Grand Chief had always been gentle toward the three great tribes.

In fact, the Silver Moon Tribe's unification of all smaller tribes had been achieved only through the full support of these three.

"Why? Because we believe the Silver Moon Tribe is no longer worthy to lead the entire tribal alliance!"

"For the sake of a few tribal heirs, you abandoned land already conquered!"

"So the Black Tiger Tribe has decided to rise up—to become the alpha wolf guiding the alliance to greatness!"

"Dachier, the Grand Chief's decision was approved by all tribal leaders—including your own tribe's heir! Why ignore that?"

"Just a few heirs! What does that matter? It's all because the Silver Moon Grand Chief is incompetent!" Dachier scoffed.

The Third Elder trembled with rage. "Dachier, don't pretend to be noble—you Black Tigers only want to rule the alliance, don't you?!"

"Besides, you plan to kill Princess Freya, thinking that by eliminating the Silver Moon heirs, you can replace their status? Dream on. The Silver Moon Grand Chief has already declared: the next Alliance Grand Chief will not be chosen by bloodline, but by merit."

"So whether it's the Black Panther or the Silver Wolf Tribe, either could claim the position. If you want to be the alpha wolf, first prove you can defeat the other two!"

"Ha! Third Elder, you're senile! Do you think we Black Tigers need to wait patiently until the Silver Moon Grand Chief dies?"

"No! Listen: after you're dead, we'll claim you were killed by noble forces. Then we'll propose launching another war!"

"When your tribes and the royal nobles have bled each other dry, no one will stand in our way!" Dachier laughed.

"You… Dachier, do you want the Black Tiger Tribe to become the traitors of the entire tribal alliance?!" The Third Elder could not believe such a cruel scheme.

How many tribal warriors must die to weaken the other tribes?

Thousands? Tens of thousands? Even hundreds of thousands?

"Enough, old fool. Now that you know the truth, you can die in peace!" Dachier had achieved his goal—the long-suppressed resentment against the Silver Moon Tribe was finally released.

He had no intention of delaying further. "Kill them all—except the Silver Moon Princess. Leave no one alive!"

"Kill!"

Instantly, the Black Tiger warriors charged again.

The remaining hundred or so Silver Moon warriors could not possibly hold them off.

Freya trembled as she pressed the short blade to her chest.

Though they claimed they wanted her alive, Freya knew they had no intention of letting her go.

They planned to torture her first, then kill her.

So now, while she still could, her best choice was to end her own life—to avoid unbearable humiliation.

The sharp tip drew closer to her heart; memories flashed through her mind.

Her mother's face. Her father's face.

Suddenly, the face of that man—fierce-looking, but always threatening without acting—appeared too.

"Goodbye!"

Taking a deep breath, Freya's gaze hardened.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Ah! Enemies! We're being attacked from behind!"

"Damn it! It's the royal army!"

Just as Freya prepared to leave this world, screams erupted all around her.

"Kill! Storm Lord's warriors, slaughter these tribe scum trying to frame us!"

"Kill!"

In the next instant, even louder battle cries rose from outside the camp.

The Black Tiger soldiers, who had been pressing forward, now panicked.

Then another voice rang out.

To Freya's ears, it sounded like celestial music—tears welled in her eyes.

"Ha! Silver Moon friends, don't fear—I Gervas have come to save you!"

"Ah! It's Gervas—that damned noble devil!"

"It's him! He summoned divine punishment, shattered our camp, and defeated our strongest blood warrior!"

"Run!"

A man's name, a tree's shadow.

Though Gervas was infamous throughout the tribal alliance,

it wasn't without advantage.

At least those who believed the rumors instinctively feared him.

Especially the captured heirs, who had greatly exaggerated Gervas and the Storm soldiers' strength to save face.

The term "divine punishment" was especially emphasized.

Because it was impossible to verify—and thus could never be exposed.

Even the tribal chiefs, upon hearing the tales, tacitly accepted the heirs' embellishments.

Now, the effect was clear: the Black Tiger soldiers truly feared Gervas would summon divine punishment.

"Damn it! Hold your ground! No one retreats—I'll kill anyone who flees!" Dachier screamed, desperate to regain control.

Boom!

Just as he was about to steady the line, a thunderous explosion erupted.

A burst of fire erupted amid the Black Tiger warriors.

Four or five of them were blasted into the air.

"Ah! Divine punishment! This is divine punishment! Run for your lives!"

Now the entire Black Tiger formation truly collapsed.

Before, divine punishment had been hearsay.

But now, seen with their own eyes—even Dachier's screams couldn't stop their terror.

Better to die by human hands than by divine wrath.

"Silver Moon warriors, our reinforcements have arrived! Kill these damned Black Tiger scum!"

Seeing the tide turn, and that they might yet survive against all odds, the Third Elder trembled with excitement.

He immediately rallied his men to counterattack.

And for the first time, the words "human noble" filled him with joy.

Especially the name "Gervas"—it stirred in him an unprecedented surge of emotion.