My Kingdom Building Done Right!

After asking the survivors a few questions and assuring them that help from the Grimhowl Tribe would come soon enough, Gundar mounted his giant hawk and took off to the skies ‌once again.

His destination was none other than the Aslan Tribe. Gundar deliberately chose the fastest route to get there, not even considering the usual path, which the army of the Darkmane Tribe had taken.

Right now, his priority was to get to Grimjaw Mountain before the war so he could ask Leone if he was really the one responsible for the arson of the Darkmane Tribe.

Had Gundar not taken the shortcut to reach his destination, he would’ve learned that the war had begun before both parties could even meet on the battlefield.

The Darkmane Tribe’s army had been marching toward the Grimjaw mountain for a whole week.

Their high morale from the start was no more. Now, a new atmosphere had enveloped their army.

The air was heavy, and the warriors all had unease on their faces.

For the past few days, the unknown archer had haunted them, shooting their comrades dead at various times of the day.

On the first day of the attack, dozens of warriors died while over a hundred were injured.

On the second day, the archer killed dozens more, the injured numbering over a hundred as well.

Otto could have killed more, but he didn’t.

He didn’t want to drive the Darkmane Tribe into a corner lest they decide to retreat to their city.

With that in mind, he made sure to contain the casualties to only a hundred people per day.

On the seventh day, he aimed at their arms and legs. None of those attacks could kill people, but it was definitely enough to make them feel a world of pain.

"That bastard is toying with us!" one of the captains of the army muttered in frustration.

The shamans weren’t being idle. Every once in a while, they would deploy some enchantments that allowed them to determine the location of the archer. However, that was all they could do.

After all, even if their elite warriors were to head to the location the shamans pinpointed in haste, Otto would already be gone by the time they got there.

This game of hit and run had started to take a toll not only on the Darkmane Tribe Army but also on Troy.

Everyone’s nerves were stretched as taut as bowstrings, and fear hung over the army like a storm cloud.

No matter how hard their commanders assured them that everything was going to be fine, and despite their elite warriors doing their best to resolve the situation, some soon reached their breaking point.

Unfortunately, they were already too far from home to turn back, so the only thing they could do now was move forward.

Travis ate calmly outside the carriage, feeling very carefree.

It was quite obvious that these attacks were done by an archer from the Aslan Tribe.

But since they had no information that the weaker tribe possessed such a master archer, they couldn’t guess who it was.

And even if they did, what could they do about it?

Nothing.

Just as Travis was about to finish his meal, the warrior seated beside him screamed in pain as an arrow pierced his shoulder.

Travis didn’t even bother to look at the warrior who got hit by the arrow and calmly finished his meal.

Immediately, his guards formed ranks, raising their shields to protect their Young Lord from further attacks.

Travis didn’t say anything and allowed them to do their jobs. He even casually poured himself a drink and drank slowly.

"The Young Lord really has nerves of steel," one of his subordinates muttered.

"Indeed." Another nodded in agreement. "Even his older brothers and the chieftain don’t dare to eat outside. Yet, he eats with us as if it is perfectly natural."

Their voices weren’t really subdued, so Travis heard them perfectly.

But since he, his father, and the high-ranking officers of the Darkmane Tribe suspected that the culprit of these attacks came from the Aslan Tribe, he had nothing to fear.

After all, Leone had promised him safety in exchange for becoming one of his people.

As such, Travis wasn’t really that worried about getting attacked.

In fact, he was even laughing internally at the anxious fools who feared for their lives.

Another scream echoed across the surroundings, making the already fearful warriors more fearful.

Travis smiled faintly. He was probably the only person within the Darkmane Tribe army who could be so carefree in such a situation.

After he was done eating, he finally returned to his carriage.

"Young Lord, you should really eat inside the carriage for your own safety," Bertram, who had accompanied Travis during the previous battle at Grimjaw Mountain, said with concern. "What will you do if that archer decides to attack you?"

"Then it only means that my luck has run out," Travis replied casually before looking out of the window of his carriage. "We’re almost there."

Although it was still quite far from their location, he could instinctively feel that Grimjaw Mountain was just over the horizon.

At most, they would only need to travel for three more days before they arrived at their destination.

It meant that this tense atmosphere would still continue for two more days.

"Young Lord, you’ve really changed," Betram said with a sigh. "You’ve grown more confident and calmer."

"You think so?" Travis smiled faintly. "Well, I guess you can say that."

His calmness stemmed from his confidence that the unknown archer would not attack him.

Not to mention, he had also overcome one of his heart demons, which was his older brother, Cain.

After beating up his older brother inside their prison, Cain no longer had the courage to even look Travis in the eye.

Whenever they were in the same room, Cain would always look down at the floor, fearful of Travis’ gaze.

Even Troy noticed the change in the relationship between his sons, making him wonder if something had happened to them during the time of their captivity.

"Betram, listen to me."

"Yes, Young Lord."

"Remember this," Travis said calmly. "When the war starts, no matter what happens, don’t leave my side. Even if my father orders you to. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-Yes, Young Lord," Bertram replied reluctantly. "But, can I ask a question?"

"Ask." Travis nodded.

"Did you and the Chieftain of the Aslan Tribe make an agreement, Young Lord?" Bertram asked.

"Who knows?" Travis smiled mischievously. "I can only tell you one thing, Bertram. If you don’t want to die, don’t leave my side. This is the last time I’m going to tell you this."

Betram could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he looked at his Young Lord, feeling like he had become another person after his release from the Aslan Tribe’s prison.

It was as if looking at a demon that would destroy the Darkmane Tribe from within.

A moment later, he broke out of his daze because another scream of pain reached his ears once more.

While everyone was reeling from fear and anxiety, a chuckle escaped Travis’ lips.

"Three more days..." Travis said softly. "This happiness will last for three more days."

Bertram’s face paled after hearing his Young Lord’s words. It was very clear that Travis was finding the suffering of his own people quite amusing.

"Y-Young Lord... you."

Before Bertram could even finish what he had to say, Travis turned to look in his direction with a smile.

The young man then pressed a finger to his lips. "Quiet. I can’t hear the screams."

Then, as if waiting for that moment, more screams spread throughout the surroundings as multiple warriors got hit by Otto’s arrows.

In response, the smile on Travis’ face widened, while the horror that Bertram felt intensified.

At that moment, the poor retainer was very tempted to ditch the carriage because he could no longer stay with the "monster" who was enjoying the pain and suffering of his own people.