Chapter 46: The Only Hope I Have Left

Somewhere in the Borderlands...

"Chief, are you sure about this?"

The elderly and the ten remaining warriors of the Black Wolf Tribe all stared at the same person.

In front of them was their new Chieftain, the son of the man whose position Arlo had taken over.

If it weren’t for the werewolf poisoning his food, making him bedridden, the young man would’ve been the next Chieftain.

On top of that, everyone suspected that Arlo had caused the incident that led to his father’s death.

In the father and son’s absence, Arlo had taken control of the Black Wolf Tribe and ensured the young man wouldn’t recover his health. At least not until Arlo had gained full control of the tribe.

He was only kept alive for one reason. Had Arlo killed him, no one would have acknowledged the former as their Chieftain despite being the strongest warrior among them.

Now that the person he hated the most was dead, he claimed the position he rightfully owned.

Unfortunately, the Black Wolf Tribe was no longer as strong as before. Their allied tribes had broken away and were even eyeing to absorb them as their own.

"Uncle Ulric will understand," the young man replied. "He won’t ignore our request."

He then coughed a few times. Arlo had poisoned him for far too long and prevented his recovery. To fully recuperate, he must take care of himself well for at least a month or two.

The ten warriors who had taken part in the raid against the Alborin Tribe lowered their heads in shame. The situation had reversed. It was now their turn to suffer the Alborin Tribe’s fate when it was at its weakest.

"Even the Riverfang Tribe has anticipated the ambition of the other tribes after Arlo’s defeat," an old man said softly. "And those tribes are also eyeing us like a pack of hungry hyenas.

"It’s impossible for us to evacuate like the Riverfang Tribe. As soon as they notice what we’re doing, they’ll dive upon us like hawks and tear everything apart."

Everyone inside the hut nodded in agreement. The young man coughed a few more times before looking at all of them with tired eyes.

"We are facing desperate times," the young man sighed. "So we must use desperate measures as well."

"But Chieftain, the trip will take a few days," one of the warriors commented. "I’m afraid your health will worsen during our journey."

"If I perish on the way, then that means my destiny ends there," Jason, the new Chieftain, replied. "Time waits for no one, so please, prepare to depart at sunset."

The warriors and the Elders sighed internally. But their chief had already spoken, so all they could do was obey.

After everyone left the room, excluding Jason’s personal physician, the young man couldn’t help but lament his tribe’s fate.

"If only that bastard didn’t exist," Jason clenched his right fist, remembering the werewolf who had forcefully taken over their tribe.

If Arlo hadn’t become their chieftain, the relationship between the Black Wolf Tribe and the Alborin Tribe wouldn’t be so strained.

His father and Ulric were sworn brothers, and the bonds the two tribes shared ran very deep.

In fact, Jason had always treated Yuni as his little sister, and the two of them had often hunted together.

There was even a time his father had proposed a marriage between him and Yuni, strengthening the alliance of their two tribes.

Yuni hadn’t been against the idea. In her eyes, marrying the next Chieftain of the Black Wolf Tribe would make their alliance stronger.

Jason had been the one to oppose it. He already had someone he liked, and despite their lack of blood relation, he genuinely couldn’t view Yuni as anything but his little sister, his family.

As the next chieftains of their tribes, they ended with the same bond as their father and became sworn siblings.

Jason looked at his pale fist. His paleness wasn’t because he was ill. It was his natural skin color, inherited from his mother.

His mother was one of the nobles exiled from the Kingdom of Britannia.

His father had saved her from a group of Orcs, and the two of them fell in love with each other.

Unfortunately, his mother couldn’t adapt to the borderlands’ environment and way of life.

Her constitution had been weak to begin with, and by the time Jason turned ten, she had already succumbed to a congenital disease.

He could still remember the last time his mother held his hand and smiled at him.

"No matter how difficult life is, you must do your best to survive. And take this keepsake. If you ever have a chance to visit the kingdom of Britannia, look for the Argus family.

"Your grandfather will recognize this necklace. Perhaps he’ll also take you in. It’s a good thing you took after me... Jason, promise me that you’ll live a long life. And if you meet your grandfather, help me tell him I’m very sorry for being selfish."

Many years had passed since then, but not once did Jason think of visiting the kingdom of Britannia.

He had no respect for the King who exiled his mother to the Borderlands.

But after nearly dying in Arlo’s hands, he remembered her mother’s family. Perhaps they were the only kin he had left in this world.

Feeling melancholic at the thought of family, he thought of his uncle and little sister.

’I hope Uncle Ulric and Yuni don’t hate me.’ Jason sighed in his heart. ’They’re the only hope I have to keep our tribe’s legacy.’

Although he felt ashamed of asking for their help, there was no one else he could ask but them.

A few hours later, as soon as the sun had set, five of the ten remaining warriors of the Black Wolf Tribe set out to head to the Grimjaw Mountain.

Jason rode with the Head Hunter of his tribe, Lynceus. The warrior made sure the travel was as smooth as possible, not wanting their already sick chieftain to die on their journey.

Given that they didn’t prioritize speed, Jason estimated they would reach Grimjaw Mountain in five days. He just hoped the Black Wolf Tribe would still exist when they returned from their journey.

A full evacuation wasn’t possible as it would alert the nearby tribes. They could only get away from it because only a portion of them had gone out, which meant to fool the other tribes into thinking they were merely hunting for food.

That said, Jason and his warriors slipped into the darkness of the night, away from the tribes that wished to eat the Black Wolf Tribe whole, erasing their legacy from the face of the Borderlands.