Chapter 390: Spoils Of War, Striking It Rich

The ogre who entered was massive.

He was easily four and a half meters tall, his muscles thick and compact rather than bloated, like they had been hammered into shape over years of battle instead of grown naturally.

Tattoos covered almost all the visible skin below his neck, dark ink layered over old scars and faded marks that hinted at victories long past.

Isaac felt it the moment the ogre stepped inside.

His senses flared. This one was strong.

Morga stood beside the Warchief, her posture straight, her eyes steady.

She looked proud, but also tense, like she was still half-expecting something to go wrong even after everything that had happened.

The Warchief’s face was terrifying at first glance.

His jaw was heavy, his tusks thick and curved, and his eyes were set deep under a heavy brow.

But when he smiled, the expression softened the sharpness of his features in an almost strangely warm way.

He raised a massive hand, palm open, fingers thick as clubs.

“Is this correct? I don’t know human customs properly, but I’ve heard this is how humans greet each other.”

“It’s correct,” Isaac said, standing and returning the smile.

Their hands met.

“I’m Grathok Bonecleaver. The Warchief of the Ashfang Tribe.”

“Isaac Hargraves. The Lord of Imperium Aeternum City.”

Grathok repeated the name slowly, tasting the words. “Imperium Aeternum. An Eternal Kingdom. It’s a powerful name.”

He let out a short, rumbling chuckle.

“It sounds like something that intends to reign forever.”

“That’s the idea,” Isaac said.

They took their seats.

The furniture creaked slightly under Grathok’s weight. Morga remained standing behind her father.

Grathok leaned forward, crossing his thick fingers together. “First, I would like to thank you, Great Carus. The Benefactor helped us magnificently against the filthy serpents. With her help, we were able to win far more easily than we ever expected.”

“As allies, it’s only natural we would help you,” Isaac replied.

Grathok laughed, a deep sound that echoed faintly off the stone walls.

“Allies. We are but your servants, Great Carus. We are only alive because our ancestors were saved by the Benefactor’s parents. Throughout our tribe’s history, the will of our ancestors has been passed down. It is to ’Serve the blood of the Netherworld.’ How can we, mere servants, call ourselves your allies?”

Isaac smiled at the words.

Inside, though, his thoughts were moving in a different direction.

’This guy is smarter than he looks,’ he thought.

The Ashfang Tribe revolved around strength. It was obvious the moment you walked through their settlement.

The closer a house was to the center, the stronger the ogre who lived in it.

The more powerful your victories, the more tattoos you earned, layered onto your skin as proof that you had faced something dangerous and walked away.

Naturally, that meant Grathok, as Warchief, wasn’t a normal ogre. He was likely the strongest, or at least among the very top.

Someone like that should have had a mountain of pride.

But instead, he was choosing humility.

’He’s acting like this because he knows aligning with my city, one that can be upgraded and expanded, is good for his people.’

’Celia was right. They’re serving Emily happily for two reasons.’

’One, because their ancestors were saved by her parents. And the other, the more important one, is the Thousand-Year Stampede.’

The thought hadn’t even finished forming before Grathok spoke again.

“Secondly, as I’ve already said, Great Carus, according to our ancestors’ wishes, we hope you can allow us to serve under the Benefactor.”

Isaac leaned back slightly. “Serving under Emily means you would need to shift your tribe to my city. Are you sure you want to move your entire tribe, even though you’ve spent so many resources building your base here?”

Grathok’s smile turned wry.

He scratched the side of his jaw. The sound of his nails against his skin was faint but rough.

“I will be honest, Great Carus. A lot of my tribefolk are against serving under the Benefactor for the very reason you mentioned. We’ve stabilized our base here, and leaving our own village is hard for them. We built everything here with our own hands. However…”

He paused, then sighed.

“The Thousand-Year Stampede is close. To survive, our only real chance is to move to a city under a Lord. We might survive if we stay here, but I do not wish to gamble with lives when I have a better option.”

Isaac nodded slowly.

’First Governor Jeremy, and now him. Some people really do care a lot about their people.’

Compared to them, Governor Marcus and Overlord Aurora, who ruled Fortified City 22, felt like they came from a completely different world.

“Then you don’t need to move to my city,” Isaac said after a moment. “I’m interested in the Purple Bridge Dimension.

“We can keep your tribe here and mine the Purple Bridge Dimension together. Others will settle in my city.

“I’ll look for a way to create permanent teleporters between Imperium Aeternum and the Ashfang Tribe.

“When the Thousand-Year Stampede starts, you’ll be able to teleport everyone directly to my city,” he explained his plan.

Grathok’s brows lowered slightly in thought. “That is a good idea. But how will you build teleporters? And what if they get blocked?”

“I don’t know how to build them yet. But I know some people who do,” Isaac admitted.

His mind flicked briefly to the Seventh Queen, to Florathi, and then to the Sword Empress. One of them would know. Probably more than one.

“As for teleportation being blocked. I’ll station guards here. Even if teleportation goes down, you’ll have enough fighters to protect the people who stay behind. And when that happens, we’ll start a rescue operation immediately.”

Grathok leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly against the arm of the sofa.

The sound was slow and steady, like a drumbeat.

“Since you’re interested in the Purple Bridge Dimension. I assume you’ll want tribute from each harvest we bring back from there?” the war chief asked.

“You don’t have to worry about being ripped off,” Isaac replied. “I’ll take only minimum taxes from people who settle in my city. The amount will be the same for all races, including humans. As for the harvest from the Purple Bridge Dimension, I’ll buy it from you at market rates.”

He raised two fingers.

“However, I have two conditions. One, you will allow people from my city to harvest materials from the Purple Bridge Dimension alongside your tribe. Second, you will not allow anyone else to enter the Purple Bridge Dimension.”

Grathok was surprised.

Because the offer was quite good.

Isaac was not taking advantage of the Ashfang Tribe, or asking for free tributes, but instead he was treating them as normal citizens who were going to join their City.

This was a surprising action.

The Ashfang Tribe were monsters.

’Players’ would normally treat Monsters as EXP points. They would kill them without remorse, turn them into pets or beasts and treat them like trash.

Grathok was reminded of the stories of his grandfather, of how the Empress of the Netherworld and the Sword God had treated their tribe generously even though they were monsters.

Grathok had grown up thinking those stories belonged to a past that would never return.

And yet, here he was.

Emily, their Benefactor, and her Lord were in front of him, offering fairness instead of chains.

For a moment, he almost wanted to laugh at the circumstances, that brought him hope just as the despair of Thousand-Year Stampede was settling in.

’Grandfather, you were correct. The blood of Netherworld is magnanimous.’

Morga cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

“Your offer is good, Great Carus, but I believe we need to talk about how to integrate the Ashfang Tribe into your city first.”

Isaac looked at her. “I take it this is about the people the Warchief mentioned, the ones who don’t want to serve under Emily?”

“Yes,” Morga nodded. “There are three ruling families in the Ashfang Tribe. Our Bonecleaver family is one of them, and we possess more than half of the Overlords present in the entire tribe. You could say we’re the dominant faction.”

She said it with pride.

“We were able to take over the Eltari race by sending five Overlords with the Benefactor and Miss Celia. What I’m trying to say is, while we are strong, the other two families are just as important to our tribe.”

Grathok crossed his arms, listening without interrupting.

“One family is the Ironvein Clan. They handle our weapon construction. Every blade, every hammer, every piece of armor that comes out of this tribe passes through their forges. The other is the Stoneweave Clan. They’re responsible for textiles and infrastructure creation. If something stands or holds together in our village, chances are they made it.”

Isaac nodded slowly. “And they don’t support Emily like your family does.”

Morga shook her head. “Only our family’s ancestor knew about the Benefactor’s parents. To them, Benefactor is just another powerful outsider. Someone who helped, yes, but not someone they feel bound to follow.”

“Since you’re saying all this, I’m guessing you already have a solution in mind,” Isaac said.

“Yes. The solution is simple. Please defeat the strongest fighters of both families,” Morga replied.

She went on, her tone calm but firm. “The Ashfang Tribe is a place where strength rules. The Benefactor has already shown her strength, so if you can also show overwhelming strength, the other families will be more eager to follow you.”

She glanced at her father briefly, then back at Isaac.

“The other families are not stupid. They know about the Thousand-Year Stampede. They know that living in your city would be beneficial. They’re refusing because they’re prideful, and because they don’t trust you. But if you show them that you could crush them if you wanted to…”

“But chose not to,” Isaac finished. “Their pride will take a hit, and they’ll realize that if I had bad intentions, I wouldn’t bother with alliances at all. I would just eliminate them.”

Emily was worried.

She had seen the strength of the Ashfang Overlords.

They were strong. Stronger than human Overlords.

The idea of Isaac fighting two of the strongest among them wasn’t something she liked.

Isaac felt her shift and reached down, giving her leg a light pat under the table to reassure her.

“Alright, let’s do it. After they’re defeated, we can start proper negotiations about who will move to the city, about taxes, and everything else.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought was already forming clearly in his mind.

’They have thirteen Overlords and over a hundred Champions, not to mention thousands of Masters and Elites.’

That kind of force could tear through humanity unless Isaac and his wives intervened.

By bringing them into his city, his city’s strength would easily double.

Trying not to let the satisfaction show on his face, Isaac added, “We should do the fights now. I still have work to do today, so it would be best if we wrap things up quickly.”

“Understood,” Grathok said, standing.

He reached into his spatial storage and placed five rings on the table, one by one.

“These are the spoils of war from our battle with the Crawling Serpent Tribe. They belong to you, since the Benefactor defeated most of them almost alone. Please check them while we inform the other families about the duel.”

Isaac nodded.

Grathok and Morga left the room, the door closing behind them with a heavy thud.

The moment they were gone, Isaac picked up the rings and let his senses slip inside.

His expression froze.

The first ring alone held stacks of weapons. Curved serpent-blades, each one humming faintly with poison enchantments. Heavy spears tipped with purple crystal. Compact crossbows designed for ambush fighting. There were at least thirty of them, all in good condition.

The second ring was filled with materials.

Void-scaled hides x12. Hardened bone plates x47. Serpent venom glands x20. Spirit-thread coils x8. Crystallized mana shards x65. Even a bundle of Netherroot stems, still faintly glowing in the dark.

The third ring held potions and poisons.

Greater healing draughts x15. Stamina restoratives x22. Paralysis toxin vials x10. Hallucination mist orbs x6. A single bottle of something labeled in a script he didn’t recognize, but which made his senses tingle just looking at it.

The fourth ring was pure wealth.

Gold coins x50. Silver coins x120. A small chest of polished gemstones, each one cut and sorted by type.

The fifth ring held odds and ends. Maps, strange devices, and a set of armor pieces made from overlapping purple scales, clearly meant for someone important.

Isaac was smiling.

He was jumping in his heart.

He had struck it rich! Without even lifting a finger!

Emily looked at him in anticipation.

Isaac reached over and patted her head. “Good job.”

“Hehe,” she said, clearly pleased.

“What about me?” Celia’s voice came from his side.

Isaac sighed, already knowing where this was going, and patted her head too. “You too. Good job. But don’t do risky things next time without telling me.”

“So it’s okay if I do them after telling you?” she asked, smiling mischievously, already back to her usual self.

“Yes, because then, I’ll be next to you to protect you if anything goes wrong.”

Celia smiled and leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug. “Give me more headpats.”

“M-Me too,” Emily added, nodding eagerly.

Isaac gave both of them a few more, shaking his head slightly as he did.

A few moments passed in relative calm.

Then Isaac frowned.

“…What are you doing?”

“Nothing~?” Celia said, as her hand caressed his little brother through the pants.

She leaned closer, her voice dropping.

“Actually, Isaac, do you remember you promised to listen to one of my requests for forgiving you after you killed yourself?”

“…Yes. What about it?”

“Let’s do the deed here. In this room. That’s my request.”

Isaac stared at her. “Are you crazy? There are multiple Overlords in this building. They can sense what’s happening.”

“They can’t. The walls here are made from special bones,” Celia replied, clearly enjoying herself. “It’s the main building of the tribe and the Warchief’s home. Sound and presence don’t leak out. Even Overlords can’t sense what’s happening in the next room.”

“They’re going to call me for a duel in a few minutes. What if they open the door and see us?”

“That’s why it’s exciting. The feeling of doing something you shouldn’t, in a place that isn’t home,” Celia said, grinning.

Isaac rubbed his face.

“Please?” she added. “You promised you would hear me out.”

“…”

“I’m pent up, Isaac. You sent me away when I come to you in the noon. So, help me now. I have needs too.”

Celia was looking at him with a pitiful expression like that of a dog thrown under the rain.

But it wasn’t very convincing, given how her breathing was slightly heavy.

She was already getting excited while thinking about doing it there.

He looked at her, then at Emily, who was watching the exchange with a reddened face, trying to act as if she was not interested.

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