While deep in thought, Aaron continued studying the map.
He noticed that the area where the villagers had settled had been partially cleared, about 500 square ters. The rest was dense with vegetation, wild and untouched.
As they walked, Aaron suddenly asked, "Old chief, you ntioned before that monsters hunt your people. Can you tell what kind of monsters attack you?"
Khumba nodded solemnly, "We’re usually targeted by Tier 1 Grey Wolf monsters. We can defend against them, but their packs often include at least three Tier 2 wolves. One of them has awakened a racial talent: Howling. Once activated, it drives all nearby wolves into a bloodthirsty frenzy. They won’t retreat until they’ve killed."
"So we keep extra prey nearby, just in case it helps them lose interest and leave."
Aaron’s expression grew serious, absorbing every word.
Khumba continued, "Honestly, I’m not afraid of the Tier 2 wolves. But there’s sothing else, a monster that lurks in the shadows. I’ve never seen it, but I can feel its presence. It’s dangerous... very dangerous."
Aaron nodded slowly, "Old chief, when do you plan to relocate next?"
"Three days from now," Khumba replied.
Aaron paused, then asked, "Why do the Grey Wolves target your people? There are plenty of wild beasts, why not hunt them instead?"
Khumba gave a wary smile, "When we relocate, we load our supplies onto twenty horses. The rest of the villagers walk. The wolves figured out our pace is slow, so they attack, knowing we can’t outrun them."
"Most of our people are ordinary. Only a few have enhanced strength. Aside from Rumba, who’s a Knight, everyone else is below Knight level."
Aaron had a look of understanding on his face, but he pressed further, "Old chief, have you never thought of finding the Grey Wolf lair and striking them first?"
Khumba’s expression darkened, his voice heavy with regret, "Lord Aaron... to tell you the truth, we did plan such a thing once. Back then, we had more than fifty knight apprentices under our banner. But I made the greatest mistake of my life."
His hands clenched as he continued, "I led them into the Savannah Mountain Range. There, we encountered a peak Tier 1 Earth Bear. The battle was disastrous, more than half of our soldiers died. The survivors... they lost their courage. Since that day, none dared to step into the mountains again."
A bitter silence followed his words. The weight of his failure still lingered, etched into the lines of his face.
Aaron didn’t know what to say. He simply resolved in his heart that once the wooden wall was built, he would personally visit the Savannah Mountain Range.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the camp. Tents were scattered across the clearing. n busied themselves carving tools and shaping wood, while won sat in small groups, chatting quietly. Children ran about, bare and carefree, their laughter echoing through the air.
But the mont the villagers noticed Chief Khumba returning with strangers, the atmosphere shifted. The camp grew silent. Eyes turned toward Aaron and his companions, eyes filled not with curiosity, but with anger and suspicion.
Khumba imdiately raised his voice, "People! The one standing beside is Lord Aaron, the sole ruler of Green Fort. From today onward, you must listen to his words."
His declaration only stirred unrest. Murmurs broke out at once:
"Village Chief, you can’t do this!"
"Yes, Chief! Did you forget how those strangers treated us before?"
"My husband was killed by the last one who ca!"
"My children were taken from !"
The voices rose, grief and resentnt spilling into the air.
Khumba’s face hardened. He thundered, "Silent!"
The crowd fell quiet, though their eyes still burned with distrust.
Turning to his side, Khumba called, "Jumba, persuade them."
Jumba stepped forward. Though not strong, he was respected. His wisdom had saved them many tis, most notably with his idea of migrating weekly, which had spared countless lives. The people trusted his judgnt, and at once, their anger softened into silence.
Jumba spoke in a calm, steady tone, "Everyone, listen. Lord Aaron is not like the strangers we’ve t before. Just as in our own village there are both good and bad people, the sa is true of outsiders. I believe Lord Aaron is different. He will not harm us, he will lead us toward growth and developnt."
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances. Their grief still lingered, but Jumba’s words carried weight. For the first ti, a flicker of hesitation appeared in their hardened expressions.
Seeing the villagers fall silent, Aaron stepped forward, his voice calm and steady.
"I won’t say much, just a few things."
"First, I want you all to follow my orders. They won’t be impossible, and you’ll be rewarded for completing them."
"Second, I won’t tolerate troublemakers. If anyone disrupts others while they’re working, punishnt will range from simple sit-ups... to being beaten with sticks."
"Third, more people will be joining us soon. I expect you to live peacefully with them, no unnecessary conflict."
"Fourth, since I’m new here, I’ve brought gifts. Jumba and Tumba will distribute them. Please form a line and wait your turn."
He paused, letting his words settle over the crowd.
Chief Khumba, puzzled, leaned closer and asked, "Lord Aaron... where are the gifts?"
Torvald chuckled from the side, "Old chief, didn’t Aaron ntion he can do magic?"
Khumba blinked in disbelief. The sa stunned expression spread across the faces of the villagers. They leaned forward, skeptical but curious.
Aaron stepped forward with a calm smile.
He raised his hand theatrically and declared, "Abra! Dabra! Five crates of apples, appear!"
"Abra! Dabra! Five crates of oranges, appear!"
In an instant, ten crates filled with fresh fruits stood before them. The apples glead red and ripe, the oranges bright and fragrant.
Khumba’s eyes widened, his jaw slightly slack. The villagers gasped. Even the children stopped running, staring at the crates in awe.
Those who had been resentful, those who had questioned the chief’s decision, now looked at Aaron with a mix of fear, respect, and wonder.
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