Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 527 Calming the Raging Spirit (Part 9)

For the remainder of the time, Pierre met all sorts of Hurd people.

Only a portion of them came to "Batu" to have their cases adjudicated.

In addition, there were those who came to petition, to appeal for justice, and to complain.

There were runaway slaves who escaped alone to newly reclaimed land, but whose families were still in their original tribes, and begged Batu to redeem their families;

The father died, and a request was made to divide the property and determine which brother the stepmother should belong to.
There were also elderly people who had lost their only livestock and were unable to survive—watching the old man weep and widow, Pierre couldn't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity.

After half a day, Pierre was exhausted, thirsty, bored, and annoyed just from sitting and listening.

On the contrary, Winters Montagne was radiant and dignified throughout.

The "Batu" of the Wenduo tribe listened attentively to the requests of every tribesman who entered the palace tent, regardless of their wealth or social status.

Then, Batu would make a decision that convinced his audience or generously offer assistance.

The longer Pierre listened, the more he admired his brother, whom he had followed since the day he left Wolf Town. Inspired by this, Pierre also perked up and showed no signs of fatigue.

The "Wenduoer people" in the palace tents were equally encouraged.

This was the first time the Wendor people had glimpsed how their "new masters" exercised their rule.

Before today, most of the Wenduoer people only knew about the "Champion Palatour's" superb skill in using ultimate violence.

Apart from that, they knew nothing about Batu.

The reason they submitted to the Wenduer tribe was ultimately because "Batu" defeated the previous overlord of this land—the fire-breastmen of the Teldun tribe.

Just like their ancestors' reasons for seeking refuge with the strongest rulers south of the great river.

However, a genius on horseback can also be a tyrant in the palace.

Surrendering to the strongest can only guarantee the survival of the Hed people, not their comfort, and sometimes even survival is only temporary.

Today, in this vast palace tent, the Wenduoer people witnessed the fairness and wisdom of their "new master".

Thank goodness, his skills are no worse than those of a warrior—at least better than those who warm themselves by a fire.

In short, Wen Duo'er is very satisfied.

On the other hand, Winters was also waiting for the right moment to formally introduce Pierre to the new residents of the newly reclaimed land.

According to Winters, the so-called "Wendor tribe" was not even worthy of being called a "tribe".

Tribes are communities of interest maintained by blood ties and marriage alliances. But what is the Wendor tribe? The Wendor tribe is a group of fugitives seeking refuge with external forces, even more "Cenas Alliance" than the "Cenas Alliance".

However, this is also good, as this loose state is most suitable for external forces to exert influence on it.

If the Wenduo tribe were allowed to graze sheep on newly reclaimed land for twenty years, forming a new, impenetrable community, it would actually backfire.

The last person to have an audience at this "grand banquet" was a tall, thin Hart man who was about fifty years old.

In Venetia, fifty is still considered middle-aged. But in the Great Wilderness, a Hud man who lives to fifty is certainly considered an elder.

Winters saw the tall, thin old man first bow to him with difficulty, and then bow to his men. Some of his men seemed to respect the tall, thin old man as well, and bowed back in return.

After the ceremony, the tall, thin old man began to plead his case.

Winters immediately sensed something was off as soon as the other person spoke.

Because he could "understand" it, and he could hear it very "clearly".

In fact, the differences in accents among the various tribes of Hed are no less than the differences in dialects among the various member states of the alliance.

The Hed people on the south bank of the Jinliu River speak differently than those on the north bank. The people in the forest speak differently than those living in yurts. The tribes living close to the border of Palatul speak differently than those living deep in the wilderness.

The horse herders of the Chihe tribe and the reindeer herders of the Yehede spoke to each other as if the Venetta people, who spoke the elegant Hailan dialect, were talking to the Monta people, who lived deep in the mountains. It was like talking to a brick wall, impossible to communicate.

Winters's initial exposure to Hellen was passively completed in the Red River tribe. His life experiences in the Red River tribe gradually enabled him to understand some Hellen.

After returning to the newly reclaimed land, he proactively learned from veterans who understood Hetka and translators from the expeditionary force who had been brought back from prisoner exchanges, thus mastering the ability to speak. In short, Winters mainly learned the accents "north of the river," specifically the dialects of tribes that frequently "communicated" with the Paratians and used a large number of loanwords from the common language.

Although after the Battle of Bloodsludge, he crammed on the pronunciation of the southern tribes by capturing prisoners of the Teldun tribe.

But when the visitors from the various small tribes, speaking different dialects, entered the palace tent to make their requests, Winters still had to guess at the majority of what he couldn't understand, based on the small portion he could comprehend.

At the same time, he also had to translate for Pierre.

Fortunately, the Hed people used a lot of body language when they spoke, which helped Winters a lot.

The process of translating for Pierre also gave him time to digest and organize the information he received.

Winters managed to handle the situation by asking questions of the audience members to verify his conjecture.

But Winters didn't need to guess what the tall, thin old man was saying—he spoke with the accent of the North Shore tribes, and his pronunciation was very clear and his words were very organized.

The tall, thin old man claimed to come from a very small nomadic group. He called it a "group" because their size was far smaller than a tribe, but it also included more than one family.

Such nomadic groups are actually very common in the wilderness because for nomadic life, a tribe of hundreds of "people" is too large and inconvenient, while a family is too small and too dangerous.

Therefore, it was a natural choice for several families to band together for herding and migration.

However, most other nomadic "groups" belong to a tribe. When the tribe has too many cattle and sheep or when there is no war, small "groups" will break away from the tribe and graze separately.

If they encounter disasters or go to war with other tribes, the various "groups" will gather together again and return to the collective herding mode.

What makes this tall, thin old man's "group" special is that, according to him, they do not belong to any tribe, nor are they a tribe themselves.
They were a small nomadic group living in the gaps between various tribes. They had no pastures of their own and could not protect them, so they could only wander between the territories of various tribes and exchange "necessities" for survival.

"Smugglers?" Winters thought calmly. "No, they're too weak. But how did they survive if they were so weak?"

After briefly introducing himself, the tall, thin old man began to recount his experiences.

Previously, the "group" to which the tall, thin old man belonged had exchanged a small amount of grain, cloth, and ironware at the old camp of the Wenduoer tribe.

Then, while continuing their nomadic lifestyle, they continued to exchange the cloth and ironware they had obtained from the main camp with the smaller camps along the way.

Since the Wendor tribe's old camp was located just outside the border of Tiefeng County, it was quite convenient to obtain ironware and cloth—partly due to Winters' influence—which created an opportunity for arbitrage.

Some small tribes that submitted to the Wenduer tribe would exchange ironware and cloth from the old camp, and then trade with tribes outside the "no man's land".

The young hunter had reported similar incidents to Winters.

Winters did not consider doing small business to be a bad thing, and thus tacitly approved of the actions of the Wendor tribe.

The "group" of the tall, thin old man also appeared to belong to the "small business" faction.

Tragically, just as they couldn't protect their pastures, the tall, thin old man's "group" also failed to protect their goods.

Not only were the goods stolen, but the people were also arrested; only a tall, thin old man and a few others escaped.

So the tall, thin old man came to Batu's tent and begged for Batu's mercy.

The tall, thin old man didn't say anything about "upholding justice"—because justice in the wasteland is simply whoever takes it—he only asked to rescue his family and companions.

Winters thought about it for a moment and realized that this matter was both easy and difficult to handle.

The solution is simple: just go to whoever stole it, and you can either redeem or demand the money back; there's always a way to get the person back.

The difficulty lies in this: in this vast wilderness, who exactly stole the tall, thin old man's "group"? Finding out will undoubtedly require a great deal of time and effort.

Moreover, the tall, thin old man with a Jiangbei accent and the "homeless group" he mentioned were all eerie.

Thinking of this, Winters glanced at the guard who was fully encased in armor standing to his right front.

But the latter stood there like a statue, and there was really no clue to it.

Winters stroked his stubble and came up with a good idea.

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