Some things have no wings, yet they travel faster than griffins.
News was one of them.
Across this vast land of nearly one hundred thousand square kilometres, almost every tribe and every exile was watching this battle.
Some of the bolder ones even hid not far from the battlefield.
They concealed themselves in the nearby mountains and watched the entire battle unfold.
Gangtuo was one of them.
He was nearly sixty years old and came from a Near Human tribe in the Northern Wilderness. His tribe had also been destroyed by the Motuo Empire. They had escaped across the sea to the Southern Wilderness. Later, hearing that the southeastern territory of the Rakshasa race was relatively tolerant, he had led his people on another long journey to this place.
He had been leading his people in exile for more than three years.
During those three years, he had watched his wife die, his son die, and his grandson die.
His group had dwindled from several hundred people to only dozens, then slowly grown back to just over a hundred.
Now only a little more than fifty remained.
During those three years of wandering, he had experienced every hardship imaginable.
Hunger had been the least of them.
Every inch of the Southern Wilderness already belonged to someone.
Hunting anywhere could cost them their lives, because they might run into patrols from nearby tribes.
Once discovered, many of them would die.
To survive, they had no choice but to venture deeper into the mountains.
Yet the beasts there were unimaginably dangerous, and death was an everyday occurrence.
They had no homes.
No beds.
Very little food.
Death never left their side.
They had tried seeking refuge with various tribes, but the entire Southern Wilderness rejected outsiders.
Throughout the southeastern region, every non Rakshasa race was treated with hostility.
The native barbarian tribes might still be accepted as slaves.
Near Humans, however, were almost always sentenced to death.
Gangtuo had once considered taking his people to the Chimera Tribe for the Heavenly Eye Judgement.
But the chance of passing was far too low.
It meant that ninety percent of his people would have to die.
Countless times they had reached dead ends.
Countless times they had been exhausted in both body and spirit.
Gangtuo had told himself over and over that if only his people could find a tribe to shelter them, he would pay any price.
Any price at all.
These past three years had been like living in hell.
Had it not been for the responsibility he carried, he would have ended his own life long ago rather than endure endless suffering.
His experiences were very similar to Suomo’s.
Although older than Suomo, both the size of his group and his martial ability made him a smaller version of Suomo.
When news spread that Langling had led the foreign army in rebellion, escaped the Chimera Tribe, entered the Ghost Domain and established his own tribe, Gangtuo became incredibly excited.
He immediately abandoned everything and led his people hundreds of miles to the forests and mountains near the Ghost Domain.
However, by the time they arrived, Constantine’s thirty thousand allied troops had already surrounded and blockaded Langling’s tribe.
If Gangtuo had been alone, he would have entered the Ghost Domain without hesitation and fought beside the Flame Demon Tribe.
He had suffered enough.
Over the past three years, his people had been hunted countless times by the Rakshasa race, suffering endless casualties.
The hatred between them ran as deep as the sea.
Langling had done what Gangtuo had always wanted but never dared attempt.
He had rebelled and founded his own tribe.
That alone was enough to earn Gangtuo’s complete admiration.
But he still had more than fifty people relying on him.
So they stayed hidden in the nearby forests, unwilling to leave, watching the battlefield with both despair and unwilling hope.
Yes.
Despair and unwilling hope.
They despaired because they believed Langling was certain to lose.
Certain to die.
His tribe was certain to be destroyed.
At that point, they still did not know the tribe’s name.
Yet they refused to abandon hope.
To every exile, Langling’s new tribe was like a lighthouse.
It seemed to be the only place willing to accept them.
When the battle began, none of the dozens of people in Gangtuo’s group went hunting or gathering.
They all endured their hunger while watching the battlefield.
Although they were too far away to see clearly, Gangtuo could.
His cultivation was extremely high.
He was a top tier Great Demon Warrior with considerable spiritual power.
Everything that happened on the battlefield made his heart race.
When the first three thousand five hundred soldiers attacked the Flame Demon Tribe, his heart tightened.
Then he witnessed Langling’s rain like barrage of arrows.
Every arrow struck its target.
The shock he felt could not be described.
Yet that was only the beginning.
Next, Langling charged alone on a single mount straight into Constantine’s army.
By himself, he instantly killed twenty griffin riders.
Then he even urinated above Constantine’s head.
Watching all of this made Gangtuo’s blood boil.
When he was young, he had been a man of absolute integrity.
He would rather break than bend.
His blood had always burned hot.
Though age had cooled it, seeing Langling on the battlefield made it surge once more.
Had he not needed to protect the dozens of people with him, especially his grandson, he would already have rushed forward.
Perhaps towards Constantine’s army.
Perhaps to fight beside the Flame Demon Tribe.
At last, they also learned the name of Langling’s tribe.
The Flame Demon Tribe.
Upon hearing that name, no questions needed asking.
No explanations were necessary.
Everyone’s heart trembled.
Their bodies felt warm.
Back in the Northern Wilderness, the Flame Demon Empire had been little more than a legend.
But after they had lost their homeland, lost their territory, that name had been mentioned countless times.
It had been the greatest era of the Near Humans.
The Flame Demon Emperor had nearly unified the entire Northern Wilderness and established an incomparably powerful Near Human Empire.
The Flame Demon Empire had been the homeland of every Near Human.
When the final battle began, and Constantine’s twenty five thousand troops charged towards the Flame Demon Tribe, Gangtuo, like everyone else, believed all hope was lost.
Then came what followed.
It was so terrifying that it made every soul and every body tremble.
Twenty five thousand enemy soldiers calmly walked into a deadly trap and drowned themselves alive.
This…
This was truly a miracle.
A miracle beyond human understanding.
Gangtuo’s admiration for Langling now became mixed with profound reverence.
After Constantine retreated in crushing defeat, Gangtuo could no longer restrain himself.
Leading his group of more than fifty people, he rushed down the mountain, burst out of the forest and headed straight for the Flame Demon Tribe.
…
Riding the golden griffin, Langling soared into the sky.
From above, he clearly saw figures emerging one after another from the surrounding mountains and forests within the Ghost Domain.
Some came in groups of a dozen.
Others in groups of several dozen.
The largest numbered more than a hundred.
Every one of them was an exile.
Eighty to ninety percent were Near Humans.
They had all been running towards the Flame Demon Tribe.
But when they saw Langling flying overhead, they instinctively stopped and looked up at him.
Langling circled through the sky.
Looking down at the countless groups of exiles, he knew people would come seeking refuge after the battle.
He simply had not expected it to happen so quickly.
Nor had he realised there were so many Near Human exiles hiding nearby and watching the battle.
“The Flame Demon Tribe is the homeland of every Near Human, and the home of every exile.”
“You are all welcome!”
Langling shouted loudly.
“Welcome!”
The Mirror Demon King amplified his voice countless times, causing it to echo across a hundred miles.
Instantly, tears streamed down the faces of the exiles.
They embraced one another and waved their arms wildly.
At last, they no longer had to wander.
No longer had to fear for their lives every day.
No longer had to endure hunger.
No longer had to live as hunted prey.
At last…
They had a home.
“Long live Chief Langling! Long live! Long live!”
The exiles on the ground fell to their knees again and again.
“Come.”
“Enter the tribe.”
“Come home.”
“Wash yourselves.”
“Eat.”
Then countless exiles poured into the Flame Demon Tribe.
…
The entire Flame Demon Tribe became filled with noise and excitement.
Suomo organised the men.
Dina organised the women.
The very first thing every exile did after entering the tribe was bathe.
There was no hot water.
Only cold.
Men and women bathed separately, jumping directly into pools.
They scrubbed themselves with animal hide until every trace of dirt was gone, almost peeling away a layer of skin.
Afterwards, they changed into clean clothes.
The garments were still coarse linen or animal hide.
For many people, it was the first time they had ever seen one another’s true skin colour.
Before today, their faces had always been covered in dirt.
Bathing.
Washing their hair.
Combing it.
All these things were familiar.
But brushing their teeth…
Yes.
Langling had spent several days enforcing the practice of brushing teeth throughout the tribe.
It was not because he was overly particular.
Nor because brushing teeth would greatly improve their health.
It was about creating a different state of mind.
Without anyone noticing, Langling wanted to instil the belief that members of the Flame Demon Tribe were superior.
He wanted everyone to feel that the Flame Demon Tribe was more civilised and more advanced than every surrounding tribe.
Toothbrushes were easy to make.
There was no shortage of animal bristles, both soft and hard.
There was no toothpaste.
Instead, they used salt.
Brushing teeth with salt was unbelievably extravagant.
In the Southern Wilderness, salt was even more valuable than gold.
A single pound of salt could be exchanged for far more than dozens of pounds of meat.
To Langling, however, salt was almost worthless.
He had simply assigned more than a hundred elderly and weaker tribe members to boil seawater for salt.
Although production was slow, they produced enough for the entire tribe to use as freely as food.
Making salt was exhausting for humans.
For barbarians, however, it was easy work.
Over time, everyone in the Flame Demon Tribe developed a sense of pride.
People from the Flame Demon Tribe brushed their teeth with salt more valuable than meat.
Most of the new exiles had barely seen salt before.
The moment they saw it on their toothbrushes, they immediately tried to lick it off and swallow it.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The supervising soldiers showed no mercy, bringing down wooden sticks onto them.
“Salt is for brushing your teeth. Not for eating. Anyone caught eating it gets their name recorded.”
Centurion Lei Tong mercilessly noted down everyone who had licked the salt from their toothbrushes before adding more salt to them.
The exiles then began learning how to brush their teeth.
As for those who had licked the salt…
They were in for a miserable time.
Soon, each of them would be forced to eat half a bowl of salt by itself.
Loved eating salt, did they?
Then they could eat as much as they wanted.
…
After washing and changing into clean clothes, the exiles and the people of the Flame Demon Tribe all ate together.
There were only two dishes.
Millet rice.
Fish stew.
Where had the millet come from?
From Constantine’s abandoned camp.
After his defeat, Constantine and Alfonso had fled with three thousand surviving soldiers under Langling’s relentless arrows.
They had been forced to abandon more than two hundred thousand pounds of grain.
The exiles ate while crying.
It was so delicious.
How long had it been since they had eaten a proper meal?
Three years?
Five years?
How long had it been since they had tasted fragrant meat soup seasoned with salt?
Three years?
Five years?
Gangtuo swallowed mouthful after mouthful.
Then he looked around at the people in his group.
Every one of them was clean.
Their hair was neatly combed.
They wore clean clothes.
Every one of them had their faces buried in wooden bowls, eating ravenously.
His eyes became hot once again.
His whole body tingled.
Compared to the days of wandering…
This…
Surely this was heaven.
The warmth and happiness felt almost unreal.
There were towering city walls.
Spacious houses.
Warm food.
Even precious salt was used for brushing teeth.
Then Gangtuo looked around again.
Chief Langling.
Suomo.
The Chief’s wife.
They all ate exactly the same food.
The only exception was the Chief’s four year old daughter.
Sitting on Langling’s lap, she happily ate white rice and venison ribs while feeding a little griffin.
The newly arrived exiles ate exactly the same food as the Flame Demon Tribe’s soldiers.
They even ate the same food as the Chief himself.
The only person receiving special treatment was a little girl of four.
Gangtuo felt warmth spread through his body once again.
Noticing him looking over, the little girl pulled a funny face at him with her adorable rosy cheeks.
Seeing her sweet little face reminded Gangtuo of his own young granddaughter.
His heart nearly melted.
“From today onwards, this is my home.”
“I’ll protect this place with my life.”
Just then, his grandson Gangshi cried out.
“Grandfather, I’ve got a fish bone stuck in my throat.”
Gangshi was nineteen years old.
He was Gangtuo’s greatest hope, though somewhat simple minded.
“You hopeless boy.”
Gangtuo smacked the back of his head.
The fish bone instantly shot out of his mouth.
Everyone nearby burst into laughter.
On the very first day after the battle ended…
More than one thousand five hundred people joined the Flame Demon Tribe.
In just a single day, the population of the Flame Demon Tribe doubled.
…
Constantine returned to the Chimera Tribe with the remnants of his defeated army, bringing devastating news.
They had lost.
They had actually lost.
Thirty thousand soldiers had been defeated by just one thousand.
The entire Chimera Tribe was utterly stunned.
Was Langling a god?
Or a ghost?
How could he defeat an army thirty times larger than his own?
Or was their Chief, Constantine, simply a fool?
How could someone lose with thirty times the number of troops?
The way everyone looked at Constantine immediately became strange.
That was the law of the Barbarian World.
The strong were respected.
The weak never were.
Only after returning to his luxurious room, lying upon a soft bed while his Second Madam, Sisi, gently comforted him, did Constantine finally open his eyes.
He had long since regained consciousness.
He simply had not wanted to face the countless contemptuous stares.
Just then, footsteps approached.
It was Gou Ling, the daughter of Gou Fu and Ali.
She was a vain girl who had betrayed her own mother to Gou Li.
“Uncle…”
“Don’t be upset.”
“Big Sister Ninian is the Young Barbarian King’s wife. Just ask him to send an army of hundreds of thousands. It will be easy to wipe out that worthless dog Langling.”
“By the way… can I still have Sister Ninian’s room? And all her clothes?”
Constantine stared fixedly at Gou Ling.
He slowly rose from the bed.
Then he walked towards her.
“Uncle… what… what are you doing?”
Gou Ling asked, trembling.
Constantine’s eyes greedily swept over her youthful body.
His heart was filled with twisted rage.
He wanted an outlet for it.
But…
Behind him stood Sisi.
He might ignore everyone else’s opinions.
But he could not ignore the feelings of the woman he loved.
So he forced down the dark desire within him.
“You can go join your dead father now.”
Constantine said coldly.
Then both his hands suddenly clamped around Gou Ling’s neck and slowly tightened.
“Urgh…”
Her eyes bulged wide.
Her tongue stuck out as painful choking sounds escaped her throat.
Constantine lifted her into the air by her neck, steadily increasing his grip.
“Urgh…”
The sounds from her throat became increasingly desperate as she kicked and struggled wildly.
Her greedy, cunning eyes quickly filled with blood.
Crack.
Constantine suddenly exerted all his strength and snapped her neck.
Thus the greedy, cunning and foolish girl met a miserable end.