In the afternoon, a high-speed frigate departed from the Fortress of Fangtooth and headed towards a plain at the corner of the Grand Corridor. There lived four werewolf tribes, one large and three small.
Qian Ye only specified the destination on the map when they set out, leaving no room for Eska to pull any tricks behind the scenes.
Song Hui had seized a brief moment alone with Qian Ye to express her opinion once more, “There must be some conspiracy behind this. That stinking wolf surely has his own agenda!”
It was clear that she was now extremely wary of Eska, and even Qian Ye himself was constantly reassessing his understanding of the werewolf count. It was no wonder that Zheng Kingdom, despite its differences in social structures and the presence of capable generals like Xu Jingxuan, had not gained any advantage over the werewolves.
However, Qian Ye had his own perspective, “Having an agenda is normal. Otherwise, what would it be? Military suppression? Any random clan chief from the Twilight Continent could easily take Yongsu under their control. As for whether it’s a conspiracy, we’ll find out soon enough.”
The journey was short, and they quickly arrived at their destination.
Many mercenary generals were entering a werewolf tribal camp for the first time as visitors. Even though Qian Ye had seen more than one werewolf tribe on the Evernight Continent, he was still quite surprised by what he saw.
Compared to other continents, the werewolf tribes here were much more primitive. The cone-shaped houses were made of wood, straw, and mud bricks, and the camp was protected by wooden thorn fences, which could hardly be called walls. High poles were erected throughout the camp, bearing dried game. The camp was large, but the majority of the game was small, mostly wild fowl and ducks.
As Qian Ye and his group entered the camp, many werewolf tribesmen emerged from their huts, watching silently. The camp was mostly filled with women and children, with few young men, which wasn’t surprising since they were likely already conscripted into the army. However, the scarcity of elderly people was unusual. The wargs lay listlessly in the shade, occasionally flicking their tails.
Most of the werewolves wore self-made leather clothes, and many children were completely naked, as were some of the women.
Near the huts, on the werewolves’ makeshift kitchen, grains and dried fruits were mixed with dried meat scraps, cooked into a thin meat porridge, which constituted their food. The meat content was pitifully low, perhaps adding only a hint of flavor to the otherwise bland gruel.
Looking at the outsiders, the werewolves’ eyes betrayed curiosity and awe, but mostly apathy and numbness, as if their arduous lives had drained all their enthusiasm.
Qian Ye had never observed the life of tribal people from a peaceful bystander’s perspective, nor had he imagined that the werewolves in the Grand Corridor would be in such a miserable state. For a moment, he thought of the garbage dumps on the Evernight Continent.
Werewolves were not entirely carnivorous, but they were close. A lack of meat significantly affected their growth. In the past, when the Empire imprisoned werewolf captives, a common method was to feed them only grain-based food. After a week, even the strongest werewolf would become weak and unable to resist, let alone escape.
However, it seemed the werewolves in the Grand Corridor had adapted to a vegetarian diet, driven by their environment.
As Qian Ye observed the details of the werewolf camp, an old werewolf shaman sniffed the air and suddenly shouted, “It’s His Majesty, Qian Ye, His Majesty!”
He rushed to Qian Ye, fell to the ground, and kissed Qian Ye’s boots. The entire werewolf tribe erupted, surging forward in a frenzy.
The mercenary generals were taken aback, and some drew their weapons.
Eska immediately released his aura, imposing a strong, intimidating pressure on the werewolf tribesmen, then shouted, “Back off! Keep your distance! Anyone who disrespects His Majesty will be flayed and hung from a high pole!”
At this moment, the usually steady and cautious dark count, known for his sharpshooting skills, revealed the ferocity and cruelty typical of a werewolf. This threat was effective, and the werewolves knelt, retreating on their knees to make way for Qian Ye and his group.
Qian Ye glared coldly at Eska, his brows furrowing slightly, “What was that about the title?”
Eska respectfully replied, “You’ll understand if you see the Ancestral Altar.”
Qian Ye gave him a stern look and entered the largest hut in the center of the camp. This was the site of the Ancestral Altar, a sacred place where even ordinary tribespeople had no right to enter. However, the shamans prostrated themselves and welcomed Qian Ye in without a word.
Frowning, Qian Ye stepped through the door, and it felt like he was entering another world. The atmosphere inside and outside was completely different. To his surprise, Qian Ye sensed his own bloodline essence on the Ancestral Altar. In the current era, Qian Ye was probably the only one with dark-golden bloodline essence, and he couldn’t mistake it.
In the center of the Ancestral Altar, the totems of the tribal ancestors surrounded a central emblem, arranged like stars around the moon. The emblem was crudely forged from steel, with rough edges and an irregular shape, far from a perfect circle. Such an object would be considered a cheap trinket in the Empire, worth only a few copper coins at best.
If there was anything special about it, it was that it bore a trace of Qian Ye’s bloodline essence. This was one of the emblems Eska had brought for Qian Ye to infuse with his bloodline essence. At the time, Qian Ye had assumed Eska wanted tokens as proof of their alliance, a common practice in both the Evernight and the Empire. True great figures’ tokens carried unique essences that couldn’t be replicated.
Who could have imagined that such a crudely made item would be placed at the center of the Ancestral Altar, worshipped as a holy relic by a top-tier werewolf tribe?
Qian Ye picked up the emblem, examined it, and placed it back on the altar. He also noticed that after so long, the bloodline essence he had left on the emblem had not weakened but had actually grown stronger. Could it be that the werewolves’ worship nourished the bloodline essence?
“What is the meaning of this?” Qian Ye asked again.
“You have seen for yourself; the werewolves in the entire Grand Corridor regard you as the true King. In their hearts, you are held in higher esteem than even their ancestors, and you are unique. Therefore, you need not worry about our loyalty.”
Qian Ye sneered, “Do you think I believe that? What did you tell them to make them do this?”
Eska knelt on one knee, saying, “Your Majesty, it is the truth. Not just them, but my kin and I also believe that you are the true King who will lead us out of our dire situation.”
A chill in his voice, Qian Ye asked, “And why should I believe you? What I showed you was my bloodline essence. On the Upper Continents, vampires and werewolves are mortal enemies, and the Holy Wars have lasted for thousands of years.”
“Your Majesty…”
“I do not want to hear that title again.”
Eska hesitated, lowering his head even further, “As you wish.”
He paused for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts, then said, “The Upper Continents are too distant for us, and the Holy Wars are mere legends. The werewolves in the Grand Corridor have a simple goal: to survive.”
Qian Ye responded coldly, “Every race wants to survive. Get to the point, or do you have nothing else to say?”
Eska continued, “For the werewolves in the Grand Corridor, survival is a luxury. To ensure the survival of the tribe, we have no choice, no choice except war. We either bring back spoils from the battlefield or die to reduce the burden on the tribe. The Grand Corridor cannot support so many werewolves; some must die so that others can live.”
This was a heavy and simple truth.
The struggle for survival space was the eternal theme of the unending wars in the Evernight world, between factions, within factions, and even within the same clans. The difference was only in degree. The situation of the werewolf tribes in the Grand Corridor was perhaps more desperate than most places.
Xu Jingxuan suddenly spoke, “Is this the reason you attack Zheng Kingdom every year?”
Eska nodded, “It is the primary reason. Otherwise, no one would want to assault a well-defended fortress.”
Xu Jingxuan snorted, his face darkening. Every year, during the transition from summer to autumn, the werewolves launched attacks on Zheng Kingdom, raiding the autumn harvest and seizing supplies. They would come and go swiftly. Even with the fortifications, the defenders suffered significant casualties. During his years as the commander of the Western Border, he saw many familiar faces turn into names on tombstones.
In terms of casualties, the werewolves still outnumbered the humans. Even now, seeing the werewolves’ living conditions and knowing that they needed to reduce their population, Xu Jingxuan’s hatred remained, and he felt no sympathy.
One of the mercenary generals suddenly said, “If you werewolves can’t support yourselves, why not all surrender and let Lord take care of you?”
This sentiment was shared by many, and their eyes fixed on Eska with hostility.
Eska looked up, meeting Qian Ye’s gaze. His eyes were clear, filled with courage, pride, and honesty, but there was no sign of panic or deceit.
“We indeed surrendered to survive.”
This statement caused many of the mercenary generals to scoff and glare at Eska. Only the two priests from the Frost Lightning Temple remained expressionless, lost in their own thoughts.
Eska raised his voice, “But we do not expect Lord to support us. We werewolves are born warriors. Our ancestors were born in war and died in war. We can support ourselves! Even if we need Lord’s help right now, it is only because, during this season, the women need to eat more as they give birth. I want the elderly to live long enough to see the harvest.”
Qian Ye began to discern a different meaning, “You mentioned the elderly?”
Eska’s voice turned somber, gesturing to several white-haired shamans, “In the Grand Corridor, only shamans and medicine men live to such an age. When the rest of the tribe starts to weaken, they go to the battlefield or enter the deep mountains to find a fitting burial ground. That is why you see no elderly in the tribe. The werewolves here have no right to grow old.”
These simple words carried immense weight.
Even Xu Jingxuan and the mercenary generals fell silent. Among the Darkflame upper echelons, those not from the Song family had deeper insights. In this dark world, humans were always a weaker race. The fate of the lower classes and those unable to fight in neutral lands and small countries like Zheng was not much better than these werewolves. Only in the powerful Qin Empire, which had stood for a thousand years, could one speak of peace and recuperation.
Qian Ye looked at Eska, his gaze drifting, as if he saw something in the void or a point in the river of time.
After a while, Qian Ye asked, “What do you want from me?”
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