Strategy game? Then I'll have to control you properly.

Lin Miao was watching all of this with great interest through the monitor screen.

The galloping hooves shattered the morning mist as Attila, leading his warriors, arrived at the plain Lillie had visited the previous night.

Rick spoke first: "They've already noticed us. Should we give chase?"

Attila shook his head: "No need. We should avoid war as much as possible."

The tribe on the other side was not unprepared. The moment the scouts spotted them, they sensed the danger and were now frantically packing their belongings, preparing to evacuate as a whole tribe.

"If only I could become one with them," Attila murmured, gazing at the panicked figures in the distance.

Rick, standing beside him, nodded in agreement: "If it were that lord, he would certainly wish for the same."

When Attila first heard the news from Lillie, his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest.

He was absolutely certain that this might be the only chance to break the tribe's recent stagnation. Even with the power bestowed upon them by that great man, the tribe was no longer what it used to be, but Attila knew better than anyone that it was still far from enough.

Their numbers are still too small, and the process of gaining power through the game is frustratingly slow.

"To solve all this, we need far more people than we have now." Attila came to the exact same conclusion as Lin Miao off-screen.

The only way to break through the growth bottleneck we've been facing recently is to expand the population.

Whether it's the fortifications led by Maureen or the missions to delve into the Zerg hive and fight the enemy, efficiency will see a qualitative leap as more companions join in.

"Father, what do you intend to use to persuade them?" Lily asked, pulling on the reins.

"That lord has always wanted us to grow stronger, and besides, the special power we possess is enough to convince them." Attila's voice was calm and steady, carrying an undeniable firmness.

They certainly had enough confidence. From superior weapons and armor, ample food and livestock, to blessings that could awaken one's talents, each item was a treasure that the tribes of the grasslands coveted but could not obtain.

A stable food supply, in particular, is a survival desire ingrained in the bones of the grassland people, and also the root of countless plundering and killings.

They were able to cultivate and harvest at will in this other world, using methods that even the most skilled settled agricultural peoples could not imagine.

There was never a reason to start a war; ultimately, everyone was just trying to survive.

Attila, who aimed to unify the tribes, wanted to avoid bloodshed from the beginning, but was willing to pay any price to achieve his goal.

Because this was not only his wish, but also the direction desired by the being who had bestowed countless blessings upon them.

Attila, who had been gazing ahead, suddenly sighed: "It seems we're still being treated as an invading enemy."

As his cavalry slowed down and approached the village that was gradually becoming clearer in the distance, they could see the tribesmen standing guard at the village entrance, each holding a weapon and looking tense.

"Brother, there are too many of them, and their equipment..."

"It's too early to draw conclusions."

Mista, who was on the other side, also saw what the newcomer looked like and froze instantly.

Among the non-combatants evacuated to the rear, some had already anticipated the worst possible outcome and couldn't help but burst into tears.

As a small tribe that has barely managed to gain a foothold amidst the recent turmoil on the grasslands, they have been fighting with rival tribes and raiders for many years. With just one glance, they can tell how terrifying the strength of this mysterious group is.

"They're all clad in iron armor... Are there any tribes like that around here? Could they have come from the other side of the barrier?"

The young chieftain Mista, who had personally led the reconnaissance team last night, gripped his longbow tightly, biting his lower lip and whispering, "I hope it's just a misunderstanding..."

Those gleaming silver armors were more formidable than any enemy they had ever encountered before.

If a direct war breaks out, their entire clan will pay a bloody price.

Just then, Attila, at the head of the group, suddenly spurred his horse forward a few steps, mustered his strength, and shouted, "We have no intention of starting a war! We are here only to negotiate. We have something to say to your chieftain. May we speak privately?"

"Negotiations?" The question instantly caused a stir among the crowd on the other side.

Even Mista, who was prepared for a fight to the death, was stunned, and then shouted back: "With fully armed soldiers at the city gates, how can we trust you?"

"If you insist on saying so, we're your neighbors." Attila chuckled at his wary look, casually unfastened his sword and crossbow from his waist and tossed them to his personal guards behind him, then rode forward alone with only a staff.

Attila's empty hands certainly didn't suggest any intention to start a fight.

"Big brother!"

"If we can resolve this through dialogue, it will be better for all of us." Mista stopped the tribesmen around him who were trying to stop him. He knew that for the sake of his tribesmen, he had to participate in this negotiation.

Attila's strategy of deliberately sending his entire force out fully armed to seize the initiative has now proven effective.

The two men rode closer, and when they were only a few steps apart, Attila calmly spoke first, introducing himself: "I know we are both people struggling to survive on this grassland. I am Attila, the chieftain of a tribe."

After confirming that Mista's tribe was just an ordinary nomadic tribe, he didn't beat around the bush and went straight to the point—he was willing to provide food, weapons, livestock, and shelter, and proposed that the two tribes merge.

"Lord Attila, you say... you can provide food, weapons, livestock, everything we need? How is that possible?" Mista's face was full of disbelief. "This is a barren land where even grass can't grow."

For grassland tribes trapped by resource scarcity, this was a promise that was simply impossible to fulfill.

But for Attila, who possessed the resource treasures of two worlds, it was merely a matter of lifting a finger. Mista, of course, could not easily believe it.

"It's normal that you don't trust me." Attila tapped the finely crafted iron armor on his body, his voice calm yet carrying considerable weight.

"If we were merely neighbors, there would be no need for such talk. But young chieftain, you should understand how cruel this era can be for those who are weak and vulnerable." Attila had already exhausted all his efforts to bring about this merger.

"That's true..." Mista was still full of doubts, but his gaze kept involuntarily sweeping over the well-disciplined cavalry behind Attila.

Cold sweat trickled down his back, and one thought lingered in his mind: if he refused, they would attack in the next second.

Ultimately, in Mista's view, Attila's actions were no different from those of other patriarchs who expanded their power.

However, he did not resort to force or coercion from the outset; he chose a slightly more moderate approach.

Even so, refusing to make the proposal and choosing to go to war is still a dead end.

The time to make a choice has come. But even if there are choices, ultimately there's only one path to take.

Mista glanced around at the pairs of weary eyes staring at him from behind, and sighed heavily in his heart.

His people had long been worn down by years of war and exile. Since they were bound to face this fate sooner or later, he might as well seize this opportunity to find a way for them to survive. This thought grew clearer and clearer in his mind.

"Your Excellency Attila, if you can sincerely accept us as your people, we are willing to accept the merger."

"Don't worry, Mista." Attila smiled with relief. "We both came out of the same desperate situation. I'm no different from you. It's just that I was fortunate enough to meet 'that person' and receive His grace."

"That sir?"

Ultimately, Mista, as the patriarch, accepted Attila's proposal.

He thought to himself that if Attila were also a patriarch focused on expansion, he certainly wouldn't mistreat them, who were about to become a fighting force.

But that phrase, "that lord," filled him with undisguised doubt. Who could be this being that even such a powerful and composed clan leader would address with such respect and caution?

"You will see Him sooner or later when you become our companion. At that time, you will follow Him with gratitude, just like us."

Seeing Mista's bewildered expression, Attila grinned.

There's no need to use complicated language to explain that the deity he believes in and follows is not a legendary mountain god, nor a nonexistent ancestral spirit, but a real, tangible being.

When the time comes, just let him see it with his own eyes, that will be enough.

[Clan Growth - First Merge: Reward 3000P]

"Wow, that's impressive!"

Outside the screen, Lin Miao, referred to as "that person," stared wide-eyed at the achievement notification that popped up by the system.

Attila expanded his tribe's power without losing a single soldier thanks to a decisive decision, and also received a real achievement reward.

"Indeed, this is the correct answer." Lin Miao, like the clansmen on the screen, couldn't hide her excitement and smiled as she stared at the screen.

Attila acted according to his heart's desire, not only perfectly achieving his goal but also receiving extra rewards. How could he not be happy?

"I need to find a way to tell them that what they did today is exactly what I wanted, and that they did a fantastic job."

The thought grew more and more urgent, and Lin Miao hurriedly swiped the mouse, searching through the desktop.

Soon, his gaze fell on an activated program—[File Transfer].

He had only used this program before to receive spoils of war handed over by his people, but now he realized that the function of this transmission program was never one-way.

"Looks like I can give them something too."

Document exchanges are inherently bidirectional.

Lin Miao's mouse pointer hovered over the send button, trembling slightly uncontrollably.