Chapter 288: Hard to Tell True from False

"You..." Beads of sweat began to form on the Priest’s forehead, as if she were still under the scorching sun of the Gobi Desert.

The source of her fear wasn’t just the two Elves of unknown origin who had so easily subdued her, but what she was now glimpsing out of the corner of her eye.

In her peripheral vision, clouds of dust rose from deep within the dense forest. A strange, enormous war chariot, its ram plowing a smooth path through the rough terrain ahead. Atop this bloodless, fleshless monstrosity sat an indistinct but fully-armed figure, a gleaming halberd resting across his lap.

’Just who are these people?’ The Beastman Priest of the Split Tooth Tribe was already beginning to regret chasing the Centaurs into the Delusional Land. The old saying, "not heeding an elder’s words leads to immediate suffering," didn’t just apply to the young—it was equally true for an old woman like her with one foot in the grave.

’A force of thirty or forty Beastmen would make anyone in the Gobi Desert lock their doors and hide in fear. But in this strange swamp, two different groups have now managed to handle us with ease—it’s just plain bizarre!’

This new force was even more disciplined than the Beastmen of the Split Tooth Tribe. Countless goblins brandished their weapons, dividing the battlefield under the command of several bear goblins. Some of them worked in pairs, armed with ropes and hooks. They tripped and bound everyone, whether Beastman or Centaur. At the slightest sign of resistance, a gleaming hook would be brutally jabbed into a shoulder blade.

"Earth goblins! Why are there earth goblins here?!" On the Centaur side, Kolzim was struggling the most fiercely. Even with two hooks piercing his shoulder blades, the blood-soaked warrior was still trying to break free. "Zandia, look at this ’good path’ you led us down!"

"Uncle Kolzim, would you please just calm down..." Zandia watched her uncle, speechless. Once she realized they stood no chance against the goblin tide, she and her fellow tribesmen had surrendered without a fuss. They let the goblins truss them up like livestock, and as a result, they were mostly unharmed.

Only a few unlucky ones, still caught up in the heat of battle with the Beastmen, were mistaken for stubborn resistors and had a hook run through one of their shoulder blades.

"Hey! Why aren’t you tying them up too?!" The previously chaotic situation had cleared up instantly with Klade’s intervention, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. A few Beastmen, pinned in the mud, were quite unhappy to see that Ron and his companions weren’t receiving the same treatment. "On what grounds are you goblins only tying us up?!"

"Because you talk too much!" the Beastman Priest shot her clansman a harsh glare before her eyes shifted to the approaching Ron. "Hey, you... you’re the leader of all of them, aren’t you?"

’Those two Elves have already moved to his side, and even that guy from the war chariot got down to salute him. Is there any question who’s in charge here?’

"Ron, we’re late," the Earth Goblin Warlord said, glancing sideways at the Beastman Priest. He suddenly lashed out with a kick, knocking her to her knees. "I don’t like the look in this old hag’s eyes."

"Always looking at people with contempt, right?" Ron said with a smile, glancing at the Priest. He had seen very clearly that this one had been about to make a move on Sera. "If you don’t like it, kill her. I give you permission."

"Didn’t you tell me some nonsense before about ’humane treatment of prisoners’ and ’some kind of convention’?" Klade was a little curious about Ron’s attitude, but he wasn’t going to press the issue. He reversed his halberd, preparing to strike.

"Do bandits count as prisoners of war? I don’t know," Ron shrugged. "They’ve stirred up a bloody storm in my territory. For the sake of future peace, it’s better to just kill them cleanly."

"No, don’t kill me!" the Beastman Priest shrieked as Klade’s halberd blade drew closer. "You’re the Lord here? We had no intention of offending you! This is all a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!"

"Living in the south, you may not be aware, but the weather in the north has been growing colder and colder. Food, water, and all other resources have become pitifully scarce. The tribes living on the Gobi were forced to migrate to survive. Both our Split Tooth Tribe and these Centaurs coincidentally chose to head south, originally hoping to settle near the town of Fromm."

"But things are just as difficult for them over there, right?" Ron nodded, signaling for Klade to let her continue speaking.

"That’s right. They had already been through a drought. Although it’s eased up now, the town master still refused to take in us outsiders," the Beastman Priest’s tone suddenly shifted to one of anger. "Because I am more fluent in the Common Language, our chief entrusted me with the important task of negotiating further with the town master. But I never would have imagined!"

She looked at the Centaurs. "These monsters, neither man nor beast, raided our camp to seize water and food, and they cruelly murdered our chief!"

"The Split Tooth Tribe always repays a debt of hatred, which is why we began hunting them down! We never meant to offend you!"

"Nonsense!" Zandia and the other Centaurs were so enraged by the Beastman Priest’s sophistry that they were practically fuming. "My Lord, you mustn’t believe their one-sided story! Their chief was the one who tried to ambush us and failed, and we killed him in return!"

"So you admit it! You did murder our poor chief?"

"What’s the result?" While the Beastmen and Centaurs were engaged in their frantic war of words, Ron walked over to Victoria. The Priest had been silently maintaining her Domain of Honesty this entire time. "Can the magic tell if they’re telling the truth?"

"Unfortunately," Victoria shook her head gently. "The Domain of Honesty indicates... both sides are telling the truth."

"The only exception is the Centaur named Kolzim, but I suspect that’s because his words are mixed with a great deal of profanity."

"In that case, forget it. I don’t have time to play judge for these outsiders," Ron said. With the magic inconclusive, he had no more patience for them. "Alright, Klade, take them all back to the trading post first. Then spend some time questioning the residents. For either of these two tribes, anyone who damaged property will pay for it in full, and anyone who took a life will pay with their own."

"After the investigation, drive them all out of my territory. Since they want to migrate south, we’ll send them out the southern border. As for their personal feud, I couldn’t care less."

"Understood." Klade nodded, a cold smile spreading across his face as he looked at the two groups of prisoners.

"Wait, are you saying that trading post is also yours?" The Beastman Priest stared blankly for a few seconds, then asked in a trembling voice, "Is there a Dwarf named Rurik and a little girl named Annie there?"

"What about it?" Ron’s expression changed. He took two steps forward and grabbed the Priest by the collar. "You had better not tell me you attacked that place."

"I will send you to the Nine Floors of Hell. I swear I can do it."

"N-no, it wasn’t us," the Priest gasped, nearly suffocating in Ron’s grip. "We were treated with kindness by the Dwarf there. How could we repay hospitality with malice...? But after we left, it was those Centaurs... they went back and attacked!"