Chapter 323: The Land Of Miracles [Part 1]

Brent, Osteon’s eldest son, still couldn’t believe that his father had schemed to wipe out the other chieftains of the barbarian tribes within the Borderlands, let alone side with the enemy.

He and his people didn’t even believe the claims Troy and the other tribes had presented to them. If anything, he thought all of it was simply a ploy for the other tribes to bully the Bonegnash Tribe.

But after they saw the recording that had materialized in the skies of their domain and learned everything that happened, he could no longer say anything.

A few days ago, he was still the powerful and influential son of Osteon.

But now he was exiled.

Exiled from his own tribe, where he had grown up since he was a baby.

"You should consider yourself lucky. You are only exiled, not executed," Troy told him before he left. "If not for Gundar insisting that all of you are innocent, I would have sent you to where your father is right now."

Of course, Osteon had been publicly executed by none other than Troy himself.

Despite Hagen’s opposition, he decapitated the Chieftain of the Bonegnash Tribe right in front of everyone. As if that wasn’t enough, the lionkin declared that whoever had a problem with him could challenge him to a duel.

Of course, none actually dared to step up to fight him. They had seen how easily he defeated one of the elite warriors of the Grimhowl Tribe, and even Hagen didn’t dare to accept a duel with him.

After half a day of traveling, Brent was invited by Malik to join him for dinner.

At first, he wanted to refuse. However, after thinking that the Chieftain of the Sandreaver Tribe had some advice to tell him, he decided to go.

Since the Sandreaver Tribe was headed in the same direction, they decided to travel alongside Ivan, who was escorting Brent and the members of the Bonegnash Tribe to Grimjaw Mountain.

Aside from that, Malik was also there to ensure that there wouldn’t be any accidents along the way.

After all, the last thing he wanted to happen was for someone to frame the Sandreaver Tribe for secretly eliminating Osteon’s last bloodline.

"Please sit, Brent," Malik said with a smile.

"Thank you for your invitation, Lord Malik." Brent bowed respectfully before taking a seat.

"Don’t look too tense." Malik smiled faintly. "Let’s eat and talk casually."

After telling his guests that they could start, Ivan started eating. Frankly, he wanted to stay with Troy and handle the cleanup back at the Bonegnash Tribe.

Sadly for him, there was no one else whom his chieftain could trust to deliver Osteon’s family safely to the Aslan Tribe.

He had no intention of joining the conversation, so he just ate and kept his silence.

"I know you have many thoughts in your mind right now," Malik said softly. "What your father did was a terrible thing. However, you do not need to carry his sin. I know saying these things to you right now wouldn’t mean a lot, so let me tell you more about the place where you are headed instead."

Brent lowered his head, finding it difficult to look ‌Malik in the eyes. Though the chieftain was speaking to him kindly, right now, kindness hurt just as much as being pitied.

If anything, he simply wanted this meal to finish soon so he could go back and spend some more time alone with himself.

But even then, the first words that came out of the chieftain’s mouth were something that he didn’t expect.

"The place you are headed to is a land of miracles," Malik said calmly. "The Aslan Tribe used to be a tribe no one really cared about. I admit that even I didn’t think too highly of them in the past. My opinion only changed when the middle-ranked tribes came to ask them for their yearly tribute.

"The Aslan Tribe’s action of killing the representatives of the Ashclaw and Bloodtusk Tribes made waves in the Borderlands."

Brent nodded. It was one of the first things he discovered around the time he had learned about the Aslan Tribe.

The low-ranking tribes were too unimportant to him to pay attention to. However, a low-ranking tribe openly killing a representative of a middle-ranked tribe would only lead to one thing.

War.

A war of annihilation.

It had been a while since something interesting happened in the Borderlands, so everyone paid attention to what would happen next.

Of course, none of them believed that the Aslan Tribe would be able to overcome this trial.

And yet... they did.

They won spectacularly, bringing the Bloodtusk Tribe to its knees.

Brent paid more attention to them after that. He was even asking for news as to whether the Darkmane Tribe would pay the ransom for Travis, whom he thought was just a nobody.

Sure, he was Troy’s son. But in Brent’s eyes, Travis didn’t even have the qualifications to become the next chieftain of the Darkmane Tribe.

Eventually, war erupted once more.

A war between a high-ranking tribe and a low-ranking tribe, the latter of which was only founded in the last few months.

It was the biggest joke of the year, and yet, Brent secretly hoped that the Aslan Tribe would win.

Why?

Because he hated the Darkmane Tribe.

They had always been insufferably domineering. Plus, he had long wanted to see Troy suffer a great loss from which he would never be able to recover.

With that, Brent patiently waited for any news of what happened on the battlefield. Yet, rather than hearing the news, what he heard instead was a loud booming sound that smashed against their fortress walls.

It didn’t take long for him to realize what was happening. Then again, even if he identified the attacker as the Fire Catapults of the Darkmane Tribe, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And then, the rest was history.

"A land of miracles?" Brent muttered. "I’m going to a land of miracles?"

"Yes," Malik replied kindly. "You are going to a miraculous place. A place that has defied all odds. A tribe that has made the impossible... possible."

Ivan didn’t want to admit it, but what Malik said was the truth.

Even he believed that the Aslan Tribe was a place of miracles.

"On top of that, you are also about to meet the most unusual chieftain of the Borderlands," Malik smirked. "He is younger than you by a few years, but he is very bold. He is also very kind. However, do not let his looks and his kindness deceive you. Leone is a little devil. If you give him an inch, then he will definitely ask for a mile."

Malik then went on to tell more about Leone. His words alone were enough for Brent to know how much the chieftain liked the young man who ruled the Aslan Tribe.

Although he didn’t want to admit it, a part of him started looking forward to this young man, who had defied all odds.

Soon, Brent found himself listening more intently than before, the heaviness in his chest easing ever so slightly with every story Malik shared.

For the first time since his exile, he realized that perhaps the road before him wasn’t leading to a dead end.

Perhaps he was headed to a new beginning instead.

If the Aslan Tribe that Malik described truly existed, then maybe there was still hope for the Bonegnash Tribe.

As the campfire crackled beneath the star-filled sky, Brent silently prayed that the land of miracles would welcome them not as enemies, but as people looking for a new home to live.

But what he didn’t know was that Leone was already aware of his arrival.

He planned to give the Bonegnash Tribe a welcome that would make Brent and his people realize that Malik was telling the truth.

In fact, Malik and even Ivan would also be just as shocked after they returned to Grimjaw Mountain.

For they would no longer recognize the place after the changes Leone and Daedalus had made to the tribe to better welcome their special guests.