Kai hadn’t been idle when it came to the barbarians. Their first encounter was tense, a powder keg waiting for a spark.

The chieftain’s deep-set scowl and the warriors’ intimidating stares had made it clear that a single wrong word could lead to bloodshed. For a brief, charged moment, Kai had considered unleashing his arrows over them. But the moment passed, replaced by something unexpected: a willingness to work together.

That single thread of cooperation had been enough to pique Kai’s interest.

He tasked Francis and started gathering intel about them. The reports had been enlightening and out of all of them, one thing had taken his interest—barbarians held a tradition called the “Duel of Blood” in almost sacred regard. Decisions of great importance were not made through debate or negotiation but through raw displays of strength. Ragnar and Brugnar, who’d probably seen a lifetime of such duels, confirmed as much.

Kai had found it crude. Strength, while valuable, wasn’t always the marker of sound decision-making. It needed logic, but well, he wasn’t in a position to impose his ideals.

After all, duels for resolving disputes were not uncommon in Mage circles. Those often occurred over petty grievances or wounded pride, yet no one questioned their validity. If participating in a Duel of Blood was the price for influencing the chieftain, Kai was more than willing to pay it.

Confidence coursed through him—confidence in his power and the capabilities of his Enforcers.

It was some hours before sunrise when Kai assembled his group. The predawn chill clung to the air. He’d called up Gareth and the mercenaries, and told them to be ready early in the morning.

“We’re heading to the barbarian territory. It’ll be just us for now. Stick together, and stay sharp,” had been his exact words.

And since the territory was nearby, he’d decided that they’d just walk. Soon, after a little amount of sleep, they’d woken up and started moving.

The road was eerily quiet, the world around them bathed in shades of grey. Their footsteps were the only noise that kept them company. Wind rustled past them and there were no signs of any beast around.

After a time, Gareth broke the silence.

“Lord Arzan, you said we’re meeting the barbarians. Yet you also told me to bring my weapon. Do you think I’ll need to fight? I thought our relationship with them wasn’t bad.”

Kai glanced at Gareth, without breaking his pace. “You’re right; our relationship isn’t bad. But I’d like you to display your strength once we get there. Not just you, but Gorak and the others as well,” he said and looked at the rest of the mercenary team.

Gareth frowned but nodded. “That’s simple enough. But walking like this… It will take a while to get there, isn’t it?”

Kai’s lips quivered faintly. “Perhaps, but I believe our rides will be arriving soon.”

As soon as Kai said it, the loud noise of hooves broke through their thoughts. Two massive beasts came from the haze.

Their bodies were of a bull with two large curved horns jutting out of their heads. They had no tails and their snorts sent clouds of mist in the cold air. Bulldrakes. Strength of bulls and the speed of horses, they were extremely interesting creatures and one of the rare ones that could be tamed.

On their backs sat two barbarians, covered with thick fur and armed heavily. They slowed down when they noticed them before stopping right in front of them.

“Halt!” one of the riders barked, his piercing gaze sweeping over the group before landing on Ragnar and Brugnar. His expression softened briefly, though suspicion lingered as his eyes flicked to Kai. “Ragnar, Brugnar… and the Blessed One. What are you doing here?”

Kai saw the man having the same tribal tattoo synonymous with the barbarians on his shaved head.

Ragnar stepped forward and cleared his throat. “I’m returning home after fighting the beast wave,” he declared, gesturing toward Brugnar. “As you can see, my uncle and I have been successful. As for him—” he nodded toward Kai. “—he wishes to speak with my father.”

The riders exchanged uneasy glances, the lead one shaking his head. “Outsiders are not permitted in the camp. You know the rules, Ragnar.”

Brugnar stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the tension like an axe. “It’s fine. I permit it. I hold enough sway to make this exception. Let’s not waste time here—we need to reach the camp.”

The riders hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Very well,” one of them said reluctantly. “But if anything goes wrong…”

“It won’t,” Brugnar said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The group mounted the bulldrakes one by one, their powerful frames shifting slightly under the added weight but showing no sign of strain. Kai ran his hand along the beast’s thick skin before getting behind the rider.

Kai had never encountered beasts like these in his previous life. The way they moved—steadily, confidently—over rocky paths and uneven terrain was nothing short of remarkable. As they climbed higher into the mountain range, Kai’s analytical mind buzzed with possibilities. These beasts could serve as the foundation for an elite cavalry unit, he thought to himself. Their resilience and speed would give any army a significant edge.

Maybe once he had the barbarians working for him, he could make the plan a reality. But for now, he focused on first objective as the bulldrakes continued to climb the mountain.

***

The morning light seeped through the clouds, colouring the entire mountain in a golden hue. The path wound through narrow cliffs and jagged outcroppings, the chill air biting against their skin. Despite the rough terrain, the bulldrakes moved with an unyielding grace, their heavy hooves gripping the stone with precision.

At last, they emerged into a clearing. Nestled against the mountainside was the barbarian camp, its position was strategic. A towering cliff shielded it on three sides, while a sturdy wooden wall enclosed the rest. The scent of smoke and roasted meat wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of pine.

As the group approached the gate, the barbarians stationed there straightened.

One of them stepped forward, his face breaking into a grin at the sight of Ragnar. “Ragnar, you’re back!”

Ragnar leapt down from his mount easily, with the practice of doing it a thousand times before. “Open the gates,” he said brusquely. “We have guests, and I need to speak with my father. Where is he?”

“By his tent, as usual,” the guard replied, moving to open the gate.

The heavy wooden gates creaked open, and the party rode into the camp. The presence of the bulldrakes, coupled with the arrival of Ragnar and Brugnar, drew immediate attention.

Barbarians began to gather, their conversations a mix of curiosity and excitement. Some of them pointed at him. But Kai kept his head forward, not wanting to seem interested in their conversations. Though, his ears picked up on their very loud voices.

“That’s him. The one who called down a rain of fire upon us. We barely made it out alive thanks to the chieftain.”

“I heard he rules the parts around here and slaughters anyone who goes against him,” another said.

“He’s the Blessed One, isn’t he? Why has Ragnar brought him and his people here?”

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Kai kept his expression neutral, but inwardly, he was intrigued.

It seems like there’s enough rumours about me going on. It would make my work easy.

For the rest of the small ride, Kai chose to ignore all of those conversations and focused on the small tents they passed. They only went for around a hundred meters before Ragnar motioned for everyone to dismount.

“Come. My father will want to meet you.”

He looked at Kai, who simply nodded. The whispers around them grew louder. The gathered crowd parted as they neared the largest tent in the camp, its size and placement marking it unmistakably as the chieftain’s domain.

Just as they reached the entrance, the heavy curtain flapped open, revealing a large figure with broad shoulders and a presence that demanded attention. Yafgar swirled his tongue over his teeth and clacked them loudly as his sharp eyes landed on Ragnar.

A flick of expression passed by his eyes for a brief moment. Kai noticed it.

He looks… relieved.

“I heard a commotion outside but didn’t realize you’d be back so soon,” Yafgar said, his deep voice carrying easily over the murmuring crowd that gathered around them. His gaze swept over Ragnar’s form, taking in the smaller scars that dotted his son’s arms and face, souvenirs from the beast wave. “It seems like you’ve fought valiantly, as I instructed. You didn’t lose any parts of you, I see.”

Ragnar straightened, pride and respect evident in his stance. “No, Father. I came close to losing them,” he admitted, “but I was able to survive and give back to the beasts as you instructed.”

“Good,” Yafgar grunted, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes shifted to Kai and his companions, his expression growing unreadable. “And I see you’ve brought guests.”

Before Ragnar could respond, Kai stepped forward calmly.

If he was going to put himself as more than an equal to Yafgar, he needed to take control of the situation. The attention of the gathering barbarians snapped to him, their stares pressed against him like a tide.

“Yes, chieftain,” Kai said, his voice firm but respectful. “I’ve come here because I have a proposition for you and your tribe—one I believe is worth your consideration. I wish to discuss it with you personally.”

Yafgar tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching for Kai’s. “What kind of proposition?”

Kai didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. “Your future.”

For a moment, Yafgar didn’t respond. His gaze drifted to the tribe members gathering nearby, their curious eyes fixed on the exchange. He grunted, the sound deep and thoughtful.

“If that’s the case,” Yafgar finally said. “Then we should discuss it properly. It is our tradition to talk of important matters over food.”

Kai inclined his head. “Of course.”

The chieftain gestured for them to follow, leading the group to one of the campfires where a bubbling cauldron of stew rested on a bed of fire. The savoury aroma of spices and slow-cooked meat filled the air, making Kai’s stomach rumble.

Barbarians sat around the fire, eating from simple wooden bowls, their conversations quieting as the chieftain approached. A space cleared out for them in the centre of it.

Kai followed Yafgar’s steps and sat around the bonfire.

Soon, the chieftain’s hand swept across the air, a silent command to his warriors. Without hesitation, one of the nearby barbarians stood and began distributing bowls to the group. As the stew was handed over, the aroma wafted up to Kai’s nose, rich and earthy with a hint of smoke. He took the bowl, cupping it in his hands for a moment, the warmth radiating against his skin.

Bringing it to his lips, he took a cautious sip. The taste was bold, with layers of flavour that danced across his tongue—gamey, savoury, and surprisingly rich, with just a hint of spice. Even the food screamed their no-nonsense way of life in a weird way.

The nearby barbarians nodded at him, their approval clear. He guessed that eating their food was a sign of being allies rather than enemies.

Kai’s gaze flickered to Yafgar, who had taken a similar gulp from his bowl, his eyes sharp as ever.

“So,” the chieftain said, looking at Kai with an almost expectant calm, “what do you want to talk about? You say it’s about our future, so it must be something serious. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“I don’t think I will.” He set his bowl down, the words he’d prepared coming to him naturally. “Moreover, this is something I’ve already discussed with Ragnar and Brugnar, and they both seem to be on the same page.”

Yafgar’s eyes flicked to his son and his second-in-command, a brief flicker of curiosity crossing his weathered face. “Is that so?” he muttered, looking back at Kai. “But I am the one who decides here.” He grunted, his gaze hardening. “I’ve been tasked by the elements to do so.”

Kai nodded. “I know. That’s exactly why I came here to meet you. I want to ask you something first.”

“Alright, then, go ahead.”

Kai gulped but quickly composed himself.

“What do you think is in the future of the barbarians?”

Yafgar grunted as soon as the words left Kai’s mouth.

A silence spread between them as he kept his eyes on Yafgar. Just when he thought he’d be served with a fat bowl of no response, the chieftain spoke, “I’m not a seer.”

“You don’t have to be,” Kai replied and inhaled deeply. What he was about to say next, wouldn’t be the easiest thing to hear as a leader of a tribe, but he knew he had to let it out if he wanted to get his way. He looked around at the people who were silently waiting for him to continue and his eyes met with Yafgar’s once again.

“But you can see the direction your tribe is heading. You understand what’s going on. You sent Ragnar to fight for me for a reason. You don’t want your young generation to fall into banditry and fade from warriorhood. Even though you know you can’t live in Sylvan Enclave forever. Trouble is coming. Nobles, mercenaries, they’ll be hired to hunt you down, and you’ll be running away yet again.”

The chieftain’s face darkened, his fists tightening around the edges of his bowl. “Are you here to threaten us out of our new home?” he asked, his voice hardening with suspicion.

Kai shook his head slowly, meeting the chieftain’s glare with a quiet confidence. “No, I’m not here to threaten you. I’m here to offer you a new home.” His voice grew stronger, his words cutting through the tension in the air. “Your tribe’s future is bleak, Yafgar. I know you don’t want an outsider to say it, but that’s the truth. And I’m here to offer you a solution.”

The chieftain’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze narrowing. “And that is… by coming under you?” His words were sharp, cutting through the air with the challenge they held.

Kai’s eyes didn’t waver. “I will take the reins, yes. But I’ll give you enough independence to allow your people to thrive, to grow once more as warriors.” He leaned back slightly, letting his words sink in. “You would have the freedom to build a future for your people—under my protection, under my banner—but still with the autonomy you need.”

Yafgar remained silent for a long moment, his thoughts clearly turning over Kai’s proposal. Finally, he grunted, a bitter edge to his voice. “No. We are not sellswords.”

Kai’s expression softened slightly, though his resolve remained unshaken. “I won’t use you like one,” he said simply. “And I’m not just asking you to join me for nothing. If you do, I can give you something your tribe has never had access to before.” He looked around at the gathered barbarians, making sure they all heard him, loud and clear. “I can offer you the blessings of the elements. Power unlike anything you’ve known, something that will ensure the survival of your people for generations to come.”

The chieftain’s gaze fixed on Kai with a sharp, incredulous look, as if the very suggestion was preposterous. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, growing louder with each passing second, some barbarians exchanging looks, whispering harshly among themselves. Words like blasphemy and outsider’s trickery floated through the air, tinged with disbelief. The whispers continued to get louder, noticing Kai’s silence.

But Kai remained unshaken, his posture steady and his voice unwavering. “Ragnar and Brugnar have already experienced this power firsthand,” he said, his voice cutting through the chatter. “And I can give you a living example, right here. I’m not speaking without results.”

The chieftain’s sceptical expression hardened, and just as his eyes narrowed, Kai turned to Gareth. “You’re up.”

Gareth, who had been quietly observing the exchange, quickly finished the last of his soup and set the bowl aside.

Yafgar’s brow furrowed. “What are you trying to do?”

“Just watch,” Kai replied calmly.

With a focused breath, Gareth walked up to a large boulder by the side and raised his sword, the blade crackling with purple energy. A deep hum resonated with everyone, including Kai as the weapon glowed.

With a swift and powerful swing, Gareth cleaved through the giant boulder. The ground trembled as the massive rock split in half, sending pieces flying in every direction.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, their eyes wide with shock. Whispers filled the air, and then came the words that Kai had been waiting for: “A Blessed One! He’s a Blessed One!”

Kai remained unaffected by the flurry of exclamations around him. He turned back to Yafgar, his expression composed, though his words carried the weight of what he had just proven. “As you can see, this man isn’t a Mage like me, but he can still wield the elements. This power, this blessing, would be available to your people.” He let the words sink in for a moment before adding, “And if you still have any doubts, I’ll gladly challenge you to a Duel of Blood. I will prove, with the elements as our witness, that I am offering nothing but a hand of friendship.”

Yafgar’s gaze was fixed on Gareth, his expression hardening as the realization began to settle in.

“What if I still don’t accept?” Yafgar finally asked, his voice a low growl, as though challenging Kai.

Kai didn’t flinch. Instead, he smiled, the expression a little colder than before, but still full of quiet confidence. “Then, unfortunately, I don’t think the Lombards will have much of a future.”

Kai saw the tick of Yafgar’s jaw, clearly affected by his words.

“I’m offering you a choice,” Kai added, his tone softening just enough to be heard over the murmurs, “but if you choose to reject it, don’t say I didn’t warn you about what’s coming.”

***

A/N – You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep