This was precisely what Michael had intended.
By ensuring each soldier received fair rewards for their contributions, he aid to fuel their drive for battle. When Michael first proposed this system, the conservative nobility had opposed it vehently, arguing it disrupted traditional hierarchical structures.
As a result, he was only able to implent the system within his personal forces. Yet, even within this limited scope, the benefits his soldiers enjoyed quickly beca the talk of the fortress.
The soldiers boasted not only of their earnings and rewards but also of the land they could secure upon returning ho. This drew envy and discontent from those in other units, who began to feel increasingly demoralized.
"Why didn't our commander think of this? Look at Michael's troops—they've hit the jackpot with that point system," one soldier grumbled, his gaze fixed on Michael's n.
"Seriously. We all risked our lives in the sa war, but the disparity in treatnt is ridiculous. Shouldn't we demand the sa?"
More soldiers nodded in agreent, their expressions clouded with frustration. "Exactly. Let's ask for the sa system. We deserve fair rewards too!"
As soldiers with similar thoughts gathered, complaints about the lack of a rit system spread like wildfire. What began as quiet murmurs grew into a wave of frustration. Increasingly, soldiers began to encourage one another to demand better treatnt from their commanders.
Caught off guard by the sudden unrest, the nobles in charge of these units were visibly flustered. They exchanged uneasy glances, struggling to figure out how to respond to the mounting pressure.
Michael observed their disarray calmly. Anticipating this outco, he assigned his newly appointed lieutenants to address the situation, ensuring the chaos was swiftly brought under control.
With the matter proceeding as planned, Michael turned his focus to preparing for the next phase of his strategy—a long-awaited endeavor that he was now ready to bring to fruition.
anwhile, Julian paced nervously at the base of the Drago Mountains, his eyes darting around as he awaited Michael's arrival. Accompanied by only two knights, he shivered in the cold mountain breeze, which sent chills down his spine.
Though he had co in response to Michael's sudden summons, he had no idea why he'd been called to such a desolate location.
The surrounding silence was oppressive, with dense fog shrouding the area, adding an eerie atmosphere that weighed heavily on Julian's already growing unease.
As ti dragged on, his hands grew clammy with sweat, and a sense of foreboding crept into his heart. "What could this be about?" he wondered, resisting the urge to voice his concerns aloud.
The appointed ti drew near, and suddenly, the sound of large wings flapping broke the silence.
Julian held his breath as a shadow erged from the faint light of the fog. Finally, Michael revealed himself.
Michael had taken to the skies on Marcus, his dragon, intending to visit his newly expanded domain. With only Miaomiao accompanying him and traveling at full speed, the journey to his destination didn't take long.
The Krasus territory now stretched to include parts of the Drago Mountains, a majestic range that erged from the dawn mist, glowing with ethereal beauty. But Michael barely noticed the scenery. His mind was focused on a singular purpose—tracking down soone using the information he had extracted from the priestess Babaru, who had once ambushed him.
This objective was part of the reason he had involved the tribal coalition in his plans.
As they descended to the agreed-upon location near the mountain's foothills, Michael spotted Julian waiting anxiously, his face etched with unease.
Julian opened his mouth to question Michael's intentions, but Michael cut him off with a firm glance. Without hesitation, he grabbed Julian's arm and hauled him onto Marcus's back. Caught off guard, Julian and the two knights accompanying him found themselves unceremoniously swept onto the dragon as it took off into the sky.
Flying low enough for Marcus's belly to skim the ground, they soon soared upward. Strapped in with hastily secured carabiners, the passengers held on tightly, their fear mingling with exhilaration.
"Lord Michael," Julian finally managed, wiping sweat from his brow, "what's going on? I thought this war wasn't over yet."
The knights beside him wore similarly puzzled expressions. Michael glanced at them, an amused smile on his lips.
"I'm working on a way to end this war with the Pamir Empire once and for all. Do you recall one of the tribes absorbed into our territory—a particularly reclusive one?"
Julian furrowed his brow, mulling over the question. Despite the unexpected situation, his composure was notable.
"Reclusive in what sense? If you provide more details, it might help narrow it down. Many of the tribes have their own quirks."
Michael nodded and elaborated. "It's a small tribe, and their chieftain is young. But their authority seems to rest with an elder—a woman who holds the title of priestess and never leaves her tent."
Julian's eyes lit up with recognition. "There is such a tribe. Their young chief insisted on bringing their priestess whenever they were shown potential settlent areas. What stood out was how the priestess traveled—in a completely sealed palanquin, shielded from even the slightest sunlight."
Michael's satisfied smile grew wider. If Julian's description was accurate, his plan was falling into place.
"Excellent. What is this tribe called, and where are they now? We need to find them imdiately."
Julian, having anticipated this outco, responded without hesitation. "They're the Desert Fox Tribe. Their exact location is…"
The daily routine of the Desert Fox Tribe began around 4 a.m. Won draped in lightweight muslin cloaks woke their children and milked the goats penned within their enclosures. anwhile, the n sharpened their curved blades against whetstones in preparation for the day.
Though they had little use for these weapons after pledging allegiance to Michael and leaving the Pamir Empire's oppressive rule, maintaining their tools was a deeply ingrained habit. The blades that once defended their lives and families across the vast Pamir plateau were treated with ticulous care.
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