Another sweeping victory—good news kept pouring in. The Grant Family’s war had achieved overwhelming success, while the eleven northern tribes suffered devastating losses. Watching Edward Grant stride proudly into the palace, Joseph Qiao’s greatest worry was for his own father. He still hadn’t received word from his tribe, but feared they were already on the brink of destruction.
The weather was turning cold; it was already late autumn. The mountains and forests had withered and yellowed, and another winter was about to arrive.
Joseph Qiao still remembered that last winter had come when his tribe was running desperately short of food, and the year-end tribute was quickly approaching.
Laughter echoed nearby. Joseph Qiao turned his head—Leonard Lei was weaving animals out of dry, yellow grass, while Lucille Xing and Yvonne May occasionally burst into giggles beside him.
Over time, Joseph Qiao’s complexion had improved somewhat. If things were bad for him, Yvonne May’s tribe was even worse. Though she was born into the royal family, Joseph had heard enough about the May Domain’s situation—war was raging everywhere.
Fortunately, Edward Grant had been away from Grant City much of this time. Joseph Qiao was able to practice swordsmanship on the open ground beside the palace. Except for tending the aviary, he spent every day training there. Eventually, Leonard Lei and Lucille Xing joined him. Now, even together, they were no match for Joseph, and he took pride in that. When this winter ended, he would come of age.
"Father is truly getting old and blind."
A roar erupted from inside the palace gates—it was Edward Grant. Joseph Qiao stood up, unsure what had happened. Edward stormed out, furious, with Sophie Grant chasing after him, trying to grab him, but he quickly shook her off.
"Why won’t you say anything? Hmph. You let them off far too easily. Since ancient times, there’s never been such a thing—they should be slaves of the Grant Family, working until death, not subordinate tribes."
Joseph Qiao looked at Edward Grant in confusion. Just then, King Grant stepped out, followed by Queen Grant. After this period of recuperation, the queen’s health had improved considerably. Yuna Grant had grown a lot, too—she was a child who always smiled, never shy, and curious about everything around her.
Just then, chaos erupted beneath the palace gates. Joseph Qiao looked over—a lean boy about his own age, but with a rope tied around his neck. He was a slave.
"Catch him—shoot to kill."
Shouts rang out from behind. Joseph Qiao’s heart jumped—the slave, face twisted in anger, charged toward them with a stone in hand, already bearing many wounds.
Edward Grant glanced over, immediately raised his bone spear, and rushed forward. Joseph Qiao’s heart pounded. He looked around, grabbed a practice stick, and ran after them; Leonard Lei and Lucille Xing hurried after him.
With a swish, Edward Grant thrust his long spear. Joseph Qiao’s heart raced—the slave dodged the direct stab, leapt up with the stone, and aimed for Edward’s head.
Crack! Joseph Qiao reacted quickly, blocking the slave’s hand with his stick, then struck his shoulder blade with a sharp crack. The slave didn’t even make a sound.
"You’re looking for death."
Edward Grant had underestimated his opponent, but now his body radiated killing intent. He swung his spear at the slave, but Joseph Qiao tackled the boy, pinning him to the ground and holding him down tightly.
"Don’t move. If you want to live, don’t move again."
A shriek rang out—Lucille Xing rushed over as Edward Grant stabbed his spear toward the two boys on the ground.
"Stop!"
A stern female voice rang out.
Edward Grant froze for an instant, then turned back angrily.
"Mother, this guy..."
"I told you to stop. Did you hear me? Yuna is watching!"
Queen Grant strode over; Edward Grant glared at the slave on the ground, who had closed his eyes and lay motionless.
"I told you to put it down."
Queen Grant said angrily. Edward Grant obediently put down his spear. Soldiers swarmed in, while the slave opened his eyes and stared at King Grant.
"Wait a moment."
King Grant called out. A row of spears pointed at the slave, who sat on the ground, furious. He was from the Zhao Clan, twelve years old, captured in the war and forced to become a slave in Grant City. He couldn’t endure it any longer—his master treated him like livestock, beating him for the slightest offense. So today, he killed his master and escaped.
"We never wanted war. Why did it happen? Only because we had no food. You had plenty, but refused to help us. My younger brother and sister starved to death, my parents died in the last war. Clearly..."
Bang! A soldier slammed his spear into the slave, pinning him hard to the ground.
"Is that all you have to say?"
King Grant walked over step by step, then crouched in front of the slave.
"That’s how this world is. If you want to blame someone, blame your birth. Spend the rest of your life making up for this mistake."
King Grant waved his hand. The soldiers dragged the slave away, his mouth choked by the rope, head twisted, letting out a piercing howl.
Bang! Joseph Qiao clutched his stomach and collapsed to the ground.
"Edward Grant, what are you doing?"
Lucille Xing glared angrily at Edward Grant.
"What were you trying to do just now? So what if that kid smashed a stone on my head? You—"
Smack! Edward Grant stared wide-eyed at his mother, while Yuna Grant, in her mother's arms, looked at her brother in shock, her gaze strangely unfamiliar.
"I told you—Yuna is watching. Edward, control your temper, or you’ll regret it later."
Edward Grant, furious, strode into the palace. King Grant glanced at Joseph Qiao, then walked over to him.
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"Your father has already sent someone to visit."
Joseph Qiao’s eyes widened. King Grant smiled and continued.
"The Grant Tribe and the Louis Clan have moved together, and both have withdrawn from the Northern Eleven Tribes’ war. They won’t be our enemies and will remain subordinate tribes of the Grant Family, which I’ve approved."
Joseph Qiao’s expression grew extremely complicated, as if tasting a bottle of mixed emotions. His throat kept choking with sobs.
"You may go home."
King Grant spoke, but Joseph Qiao shook his head, stood up, and knelt on the ground.
"Thank you, King Grant. For everything my father and tribe have done, I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends. Thank you."
Charles Grant stood by the riverbank, watching the flowing water. Joy appeared on his face—now there was enough food for more than ten thousand people from both tribes, enough to last until next summer. His people were helping the Louis Clan build houses, and a long line of fortifications had been erected outside the village on the hillside, cutting ties with the other tribes completely.
Just today, word arrived from those who had returned—King Grant agreed to let both tribes remain under the Grant Family, without blaming them, even welcoming these former traitors.
As for Louis Yu’s tribe, they had been forced to fight after being threatened by the others. The other tribes had said that if Louis Yu refused to join, they would wipe them out.
The mountain slope where the Louis Clan used to live was on a relatively flat stretch of land, with nothing to rely on around it. If attacked, they would have been doomed.
Upstream, people still went back and forth to catch fish every day. Though the catch was small, it added up over time. King Grant had ordered them not to alert anyone—if war broke out with the Wynn Domain in the future, it would allow for a surprise attack.
Now the Grant Family had sent people to investigate the northwest, to confirm the place with fishing nets. Once the time was right, Grant Family troops would strike first, catching the Wynn Clan off guard.
"Ada, what are you doing here?"
Louis Yu ran over, excited—he was in charge of training the new adults from both tribes in weapon use.
"Nothing, it’s just been a long time since I felt so happy."