The burden of choice pressed heavily on Norgai, chieftain of the Karvak Tribe.
Surrender their pride as barbarians… or die fighting a war they could not win.
Behind him, children laughed—unaware of the storm looming over their world.
In front of him, the elders rested quietly, some sharpening worn blades, others staring at the fading sun with hollow eyes.
The word still echoed in his mind, like poison laced in every breath:
Cleansing.
What the hell do they think we are? he thought bitterly, clenching his fists.
By nightfall, a sacred gathering was called.
Around the tribal fire, revered since the days of the first ancestors, the chieftains, hunters, and elders sat in a solemn circle. The flames danced in the middle, casting long shadows across painted faces and weathered skin.
Among them was the tribe's seer—a monk-like elder clad in furs and beads. His eyes were closed as he murmured ancient words.
"The prophecy has begun," the old monk finally spoke. "The Era of Darkness is awakening."
A hush fell over the circle.
Then Norgai stood, voice steady, gaze unwavering.
"The Empire intends to unite the world."
That single sentence stirred the crowd. Murmurs and whispers rippled among them like wildfire.
The monk raised his voice.
"So what would you choose… would you rather die on your feet—or bow on your knees?"
"Bow or burn, huh?" Norgai muttered. "Not much of a choice."
He looked up at the stars, searching for strength among the cold constellations. After a long pause, he turned back to the circle.
"This decision is not mine alone. It belongs to all of you."
His voice rang with resolve.
"Raise your left hand if you would fight. Raise your right if you would flee."
One by one, arms lifted into the flickering firelight.
And the result was clear.
Left hands.
Dozens of them.
Norgai slowly closed his eyes.
So it comes to this.
He turned to one of his riders.
"Send word to the Beast King. We've never been allies—but now that we share the same enemy, we may yet find common ground."
Then he mounted his horse.
"Prepare the warriors. I'll ride east. We need every tribe that still remembers who we are."
The Karvak had chosen war.
Not because they were strong—
But because they refused to be erased.
Somewhere in the Barbarian plains
A gathering of tribal leaders was called.
Five seats stood around the sacred fire—yet only four were occupied.
The fifth remained empty, a solemn symbol of the Varnak Tribe, wiped from existence by the Snow Knight. A haunting reminder of what pride without unity would cost.
The four chieftains sat in silence, each eyeing the other with suspicion and disdain. They hated this.
Cooperation. Alliance. Unity.
To them, it was a weakness—a betrayal of the warrior code they clung to like rusted armor. That same thinking had shattered the barbarians long ago, splintering them across the plains like scattered bones.
Norgai broke the silence.
He spoke clearly, laying out the truth of the Empire's advance. Of the colossal army he had seen with his own eyes. Of the cleansing that would follow if they did nothing.
But just as he expected, the others scoffed.
"Let them come," one growled. "We'll Kill them ."
"Your fear shames you, Norgai," another barked. "You want to beg like a dog?"
They laughed. They mocked him.
To them, the idea of uniting was cowardice.
They would rather die alone than stand together.
And that was exactly what would happen.
Only Norgai understood it now.
Even Mogul, the most feared warrior of the barbarian world—strongest in the plains—had fallen.
If Mogul could be slain, what hope did any of them have alone?
Still, the vote was clear.
All three rejected his call for unity.
They jeered as he stood.
"Go back to your coward's hut, Norgai."
"Let us know when the Empire spares you for bowing first."
He did not respond.
Shame clung to his back like a cold wind as he mounted his horse and rode home.
One path closed.
Now, he had to place his hopes on the Beast King.
The wild ruler beyond the southern ridge.
A beast not easily tamed—but perhaps now, with war at the gates, even a beast could see reason.
Beast Kingdom Palace
An envoy arrived under the pale morning sun, dust still clinging to his cloak. With a simple bow, he proceeds to greet the Beast King.
The king sat atop his throne of bone and fur, his fangs visible even through his smirk. His golden eyes listen to the barbarian slowly, savoring every word as though it amused him.
A plea for alliance… from a tribe?
He scoffed. He had once rejected alliance offers from the Four Kingdoms—nations with armies and gold. Why would he entertain a request from mere plains barbarians?
But then… a thought crept in.
If the barbarians were foolish enough to throw themselves against the Empire first, they would serve as perfect bait.
A living shield.
Let them bleed. Let them die.
And when the Empire grew tired and exposed its underbelly—that's when he would strike.
He nodded, feigning thoughtfulness.
"Tell them I accept," he said, voice calm and regal. "But I have… matters to settle here first. Once resolved, I shall ride to your aid."
The envoy left elated, galloping back through the wildlands.
Back at the Karvak Tribe, he dismounted and rushed to Norgai, his voice full of hope.
"The Beast King had agreed.He will sent his army soon "
But Norgai did not smile.
He stared into the flames, fists clenched tightly.
"Its come to this,huh," Norgai said flatly.
The envoy blinked.He didn't understand what was going on
"He intends to use us," Norgai growled, rising to his feet. "He'll let us die first, weaken the Empire, and then he'll march in and claim victory. This isn't an alliance… it's a sacrifice."
The fire crackled louder between them, as if echoing his anger.
"So be it," Norgai muttered. "Let the world use us. But if we fall… we'll take a thousand of them with us."