Chapter 83: 83 Finalizing the Plan

Chapter 83: Finalizing the Plan

Long before setting out, Ronin had already prepared to seize the Green Bamboo Tribe—hence why he brought only enough rations for one meal, planning to replenish the rest directly from the tribe itself.

Call it confidence, call it arrogance—he never once entertained the thought of losing to the Green Bamboo Tribe.

And as he had foreseen, he didn’t just win—he won effortlessly.

After dinner, a candle, its wax made from some unknown oil, flickered with a pale yellow glow.

The feeble light could not even fully illuminate Will’s hut, casting the gathered men huddled inside into shadowed silhouettes—each one resembling a villain plotting something unspeakable.

“The Black Collar Tribe has the greatest numbers. For years, even when outnumbered three to one, they’ve held the upper hand—strong indeed. I have no doubt I can defeat them, but now is not the time. Let this tougher bone lie until last.”

At the head of the room, Ronin was laying out the next phase of operations to his men.

Besides Ronin, Ridal, Macken, Elron, and others were present. The prisoners outside had been entrusted to Juit and Sim to oversee.

“So, as originally planned, we will first eliminate the ‘Three-Power Alliance’ in one stroke.”

Ronin unfolded the crude map Ridal had drawn earlier—but now, with intelligence gathered from Woton and Dandi, he understood the surrounding terrain far better.

“The Purple Berry Tribe lies roughly twenty li northeast of the Green Bamboo Tribe—close by, small in population, and poorly defended.

The Gray Earth Tribe, however, lies fifty li directly east—farther away, and not only does it boast six transcendent warriors, but it has also constructed defensive fortifications.”

Ronin paused, then made his decision.

“Therefore, our second target among the wild tribes shall be the Purple Berry Tribe.”

Ridal listened intently, fully agreeing, and added:

“My lord, from today’s battle, it’s clear: if we capture the chieftain of any wild tribe, the rest will kneel and surrender.

The Purple Berry Tribe has only two transcendent warriors, and perhaps not even ten soldiers with combat training. I believe we need not send so many.”

“That’s right, my lord!”

Macken, who had barely lifted a finger in today’s fight, seized the opportunity to prove himself.

“Let me take David and Tom tomorrow. You and the commander stay here and rest. We’ll return with victory.”

David and Tom nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

“If it’s merely those two transcendent warriors of the Purple Berry Tribe you’re facing, I agree—you three are more than enough. But battle is never without surprises. We hold the advantage; there’s no need to risk it.”

Ronin recalled a saying and shared it with Macken:

“We may despise the enemy strategically, but we must respect them tactically.”

It held true in any world.

The men murmured, grasping the weight behind the words. Macken bowed his head.

“My lord is right. I was too reckless.”

Ronin smiled faintly.

“Reckless? Not quite. Your point has merit. We truly don’t need to send so many to attack the Purple Berry Tribe tomorrow.”

He paused, thought for a moment, then decided:

“Very well. Tomorrow, I shall lead you, Macken, Elron, Woton, Dandi, fifteen guards, and forty militiamen to the Purple Berry Tribe.”

“Ridal, you and David will remain here in the Green Bamboo Tribe. Oversee the unfinished autumn harvest—don’t let that grain rot in the fields.”

Though Ridal, David, and the others felt a pang of disappointment at being left behind, they accepted Ronin’s orders without protest.

Though the Green Bamboo Tribe had been subdued, it was unwise to strip it of all its transcendent warriors so soon. Someone had to hold the fort.

“Also, send Sim with two guards back to Mountain Town to notify Wilson. Have him bring the necessary materials to conduct a census of the Green Bamboo and Purple Berry Tribes—and have them ride back.”

Though Elron could read and write, such administrative tasks were better suited to Wilson, who handled civil affairs.

After all, someone would need to manage this land in the long term. It was wise to let Wilson become familiar with it early.

Come to think of it, with these tribes now under his command, his civil officials were already insufficient. Once they returned, he’d need to recruit Wilson an assistant—just to test the waters.

As for the Green Bamboo Tribe itself, perhaps a village chief could be appointed.

Ronin shook off the thought. These matters could wait until the wild tribes were fully subdued.

“Alright, everyone find somewhere to rest. Ridal, organize tomorrow’s troops for the Purple Berry Tribe. Let them rest well. The guards left behind will take night watch.”

Ridal nodded slightly.

“Yes, my lord.”

The meeting ended. All filed out of the hut.

Outside, the soldiers had just finished their meal. Aside from those on watch, the rest clustered around the fire, excitedly recounting the day’s events—with no shortage of boasting.

As for the prisoners, thanks to Ronin’s mercy, they had been allowed to rest.

Half of them had been crammed into the homes of relatives or neighbors for the night—freeing up beds for the soldiers.

Leaving the outside noise behind, Ronin sat inside, tallying the wealth left behind by Knight Will.

A chieftain of a wild tribe possessed little, truly little.

First, money: after thorough searching, only five gold, thirty-two silver, and one hundred sixty-four copper coins remained.

They were said to be earnings from selling animal and first-tier demon hides beyond the borders—but over the years, much had been spent, leaving only this meager sum.

Though small, Ronin did not disdain it. He gathered every coin into his space ring.

Next in value, perhaps, were Will’s ancestral armor and knightly sword—both chipped and cracked, yet still serviceable.

While others had been granted armor and swords as rewards, Ronin casually bestowed Will’s set upon Sim.

“Ten sheets of parchment, one quill, one bottle of ordinary ink, 4,330 jin of barley, 2,600 jin of wheat…”

Ronin clicked his tongue, again marveling at the truth of the old saying: “Behind the vermilion gates, wine and meat rot; on the road, frozen corpses lie.”

He’d heard that every winter, people starved to death in the Green Bamboo Tribe—yet their chieftain hoarded so much grain, preferring to let it spoil rather than share it.

Beyond that, Will had kept eight goats—still, a modest fortune.

“For me, the greatest gain from seizing the Green Bamboo Tribe was not the gold, nor the armor, but the nine hundred acres of already tilled land—and the 354 souls.”

With this, he edged closer to the requirement of three thousand souls for the achievement: *Population Flourishes*.

“According to Woton’s records, once I take the Purple Berry Tribe and the Gray Earth Tribe, and complete the census, that achievement will be fulfilled.”

(End of Chapter)