Chapter 305: Arguing Centaurs

Both the current Beastman and Centaur leaders were deeply grateful for Ron's tolerance. Within a few days, word of his kindness had naturally spread to their people.

The Split Tooth Tribe had no objections to the ideas left behind by the Beastman Priest. In their tribe, a Priest was not just a profession that wielded Witchcraft; the title was synonymous with being "worldly and knowledgeable" and "able to communicate with the Deities." The Priest even had a certain say in the succession of every chief. Now that a new chief had yet to be chosen, that Priest was their sole supreme leader, and her word was law to the tribe.

Zandia's side, on the other hand, was far more chaotic.

The Centaurs' organizational structure was much looser than the Beastmen's. To make matters worse, before Zandia's father died, he had entrusted all clan affairs—including the new clan leader herself—to his younger brother, Kolzim. Although none of the Centaurs wanted to stay in the Delusional Land, they were severely divided on the direction of their migration.

"Are they still arguing?" Ron, who had moved his quarters into the newly repaired New Green Swamp Town, had slept terribly his first night. For one, he had joined the construction crew himself to speed up the town's restoration, working late into the night before snatching a few hours of sleep.

And for another, the Centaurs in the room right next to his bedroom had been shouting at the top of their lungs all night long! Their arguments were interspersed with calls that sounded like the neighing of horses!

Ron honestly felt like he had been sleeping in a stable.

"Ahem. It's probably because they're a Spirit Type. These creatures certainly have abundant Energy," Silvia said, pushing open her door. As a Vampire Descendant, she didn't require true sleep, but her meditation also needed a relatively quiet environment. "But I have to say, for all their arguing, they haven't forgotten to eat. In fact, they've been eating quite a lot."

"Considering their body weight, the clan's food consumption over the past few days could actually be considered restrained," Jilannis said, walking in from outside. Mazarino had taken his leave in a hurry after the town's repairs were largely complete, so she was now the territory's new Arcane Consultant. "However, I'm only referring to Zandia's faction of Centaurs. Her uncle's faction, you could say, has been eating their fill."

"Kolzim?" Ron glanced up. "As I recall, the main reason he's arguing with Zandia is that he doesn't trust my recommendation, right?"

"Correct. He thinks that since you just came back from Carolina, you're scheming to sell them to slavers. That's why he's strongly advocating for them to head southeast and find a pasture between the City-State Alliance and the Eastern Countries."

Judging by Jilannis's expression, that Kolzim must have said plenty of nasty things about Carolina and the Delusional Land. However, an Elf who had lived for several centuries was obviously not one to easily show her emotions. As a result, his faction of Centaurs could continue to eat and drink with a clear conscience.

"Hah. Those duchies and kingdoms have already carved up all the land for the next five hundred years. The only reason they haven't actually occupied it is because they're unwilling to shed each other's blood," Constance sneered, having just freshened up and emerged from her room. "Pasture? By then, tax collectors from several different countries will take turns stripping the land bare. I'm afraid there won't be a single blade of grass left."

"Let them do as they please. It's none of our business," Ron said, looking at Constance, who had recently taken on the responsibility of Administrative Consultant after Farama's return to the inferno. "Remind them in a little while that they can't just linger here forever. Be tactful about it; there's no need to provoke that big oaf."

Ron thought for a moment, then added, "A single Centaur is several hundred pounds of meat. If we were forced to kill them all, it would be enough to feed the Goblins and Kobolds for a lifetime. It's better to ask them to leave. We might have a use for them in the future."

"Understood," Constance nodded. "Have you considered Aiksuuri? He's still a growing boy, isn't he? A few dozen Centaurs might not even be enough to feed him..."

"He doesn't like them," Ron shook his head. "That fellow's tastes are getting further and further from a typical Black Dragon's. Ever since we moved here, he's been hanging around Aive all day, and it's driving your cousin crazy."

The black-haired Half-Elf gave a strange smile. "Her family's cooking is excellent, but I never thought they'd actually win the favor of a Black Dragon—even a Black Dragon raised by a Gold Dragon."

"Even for a Half-human, your life has only just begun. The future holds all sorts of things you've never imagined," Jilannis said. In the Common Language, the difference between "Half-Elf" and "Half-human" wasn't actually that great, but Jilannis always preferred to use a specific proper noun from the Elf Language to refer to the offspring of an Elf and a human.

Most other races would have considered this treatment a form of discrimination, but the Half-Elves were long since used to it.

"I'll grant you that—but at least here in the Delusional Land, there shouldn't be any more 'unexpected' things, right?" Constance shrugged slightly and looked at Ron. "My Lord, you've already wiped out the remnants of the Hailan Empire and cleared away the last vestiges of the ancient kingdom. The conquest of the Delusional Land is no longer a delusion. It seems you truly are the one chosen to rule this land."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Ron's voice was momentarily drowned out again by Kolzim's shouting from next door. "The Delusional Land is far, far larger than the parts we've explored. Never mind what's behind that sprawling mountain range we can see from here; on the very edge of our territory, there's a village ruled by demons."

"And, oh, you weren't there at the time—not far from here, the remains of an old Green Dragon are still coiled beneath a tree. To this day, we have no idea what kind of entity killed it."

"An old Green Dragon?" Jilannis's lake-blue eyes lit up. "Where? Can you take me to see it? It's rare to see a Giant Dragon that has reached old age, and their carcasses are even rarer!"

"We've cleared out almost everything from the cave. It's all piled up in Aiksuuri's nest now, with a few items in our possession," Silvia said, taking out her Walking Stick and giving it a little shake. "If you want to see the site, it's just a short walk from town."

"But Aiksuuri is the same as always. He won't let anyone near his hoard unless Ron goes personally."

"Then he must be one of the wealthiest Young Dragons in history," Jilannis couldn't help but smile. "In that case, I must go see it with my own eyes. But I also hope to visit the Green Dragon's Nest. As your Arcane Consultant, surely the Lord wouldn't refuse me, right?"

"There's nothing to refuse," Ron replied. He figured the Centaurs would remain at a stalemate for a while longer. And although there were many things to do, none of them urgently required his personal attention, so there was no harm in taking his new consultant for a tour. "Speaking of which, is Aiksuuri back yet? A few days ago, the Kobolds dragged him off to have a statue of him erected—the doppelgangers have complained to me quite a bit about that."