The early morning sun cast long shadows across the yard of Khao’khen’s quarters. Dust motes danced in the slanting light, illuminating the grim set of Khao’khen’s jaw as Sakh’arran approached. The air hung heavy with the unspoken weight of recent events – Dhug’mur, Vir’khan, and Drae’ghanna’s departure had given him the chance to voice his opinion regarding the recent matter.

Sakh’arran, his face etched with lines of worry, bowed respectfully before Khao’khen, who sat upon a rough-hewn stool, his gaze fixed on the scattered maps depicting the two mountain ranges.

“Chieftain,” Sakh’arran began, his voice low and measured, “I have some thought to the matter of the other tribes.” He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air before continuing. “The training you recently offered… it was generous, perhaps too generous.”

Khao’khen’s silence was a heavy weight in itself. He finally responded, his voice a gravelly rumble, “And what is your assessment, Sakh’arran?” He was curious as this was one of the rare times that the Horde Chief was willing to share what was in his thoughts by hius own initiative.

“They might be grateful, yes. Their warriors would be able to have some improvements in their fighting prowess as a whole. But I am concerned, Chieftain…of the implications. We equip them with some of our skills, sharpen their weapons. We make them stronger, more capable… but for whom do they ultimately serve?”

“They are bound to us by Drae’ghanna’s bloodline. By our shared defense against the threats to our lands,” Khao’khen stated, his voice steady but not unconcerned.

“Blood ties, Chieftain, are fragile things. Can be ignored. Our alliance rests on the current need of the Rock Bear and Black Tree tribes, and of the other tribes of protection from the Threian advance. Ultimately our ties with the Rock Bear and Black Tree tribes rely on whether they will honor their blood relations with Drae’ghanna or not. What happens when they ignore their blood ties with Drae’ghanna in exchange of benefits? What happens when those we have trained see their own interests clashing with the interests of Yohan?” Sakh’arran’s concern was evident in his furrowed brow. “The future, Chieftain…is unpredictable. We cannot rely on assumptions of continued friendship. Alliances shift like sand in the wind.”

Khao’khen remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the distant peaks. “Then what do you propose, Sakh’arran? We cannot leave these tribes vulnerable. The Threians would easily dismantle them and we would be left to fight them on our own.”

“We must secure their loyalty unequivocally,” Sakh’arran asserted. “Before we invest further in their training, they must swear an oath of allegiance to Yohan. A formal pledge, witnessed and recorded. A binding contract if possible… which goes beyond mere gratitude for our aid.”

“A sworn oath…” Khao’khen repeated the phrase slowly, weighing its implications. “That would bind them to us, yes, but might it also breed resentment? The loss of their independence could turn their newfound strength against us.”

“Better a bound ally than a potentially hostile foe,” Sakh’arran countered, his voice firm. “It is a risk, I concede, but a calculated one. The strengthening of these tribes is not without its perils. We nurture strength within them, strengthening the very force that might one day turn against us. Their gratitude is fleeting, their ambitions are their own. Consider the possibility of future conflicts, Chieftain. Imagine Yohan facing an army comprised of warriors trained in our very methods, but united under a different banner. Imagine them wielding our techniques against us.”

Khao’khen ran a hand through his grizzled hair, his expression thoughtful. “We risk alienating solid future allies by demanding such absolute loyalty. They might see it as a betrayal of the trust we’ve fostered.”

“The trust, Chief, is built on the sand of shared circumstance and the shifting tides of friendship,” Sakh’arran pressed. “A formal oath anchors it in the bedrock of obligation. It eliminates the ambiguity, the room for doubt. The future favors those who secure their position, not those who depend on hopeful assumptions.” He paused, his gaze steady. “Consider the alternative. Unrestricted strength, unchecked loyalty, a future fraught with uncertainty.”

Khao’khen sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of his responsibility. “Your words carry weight, Sakh’arran. I see the logic, the necessity of securing our position. But I cannot deny the unease the proposal causes me.” He stared at the ground for a long moment, his shoulders slumping slightly. “The oath, you say?”

“Not simply an oath, Chieftain,” Sakh’arran corrected gently. “A binding contract of allegiance to Yohan. An oath to be witnessed and recorded by all those present, to be honored by all who pledge their loyalty. A formal acceptance of Yohan’s authority. Only then can we, with confidence, proceed with training them.”

The silence hung between them once more, broken only by the passing rare wind. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting longer shadows, emphasizing the gravity of the decision that rested on Khao’khen’s shoulders. The fate of several tribes, the stability of their alliance, and the future of Yohan itself, hung in the balance. Finally, Khao’khen looked up at Sakh’arran, his eyes filled with a grim determination.

The morning sun streamed through the rough-hewn window of Khao’khen’s quarters, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sakh’arran, his face grim, stood opposite the Yohan Tribe’s chieftain. A half-empty mug of something dark and bitter sat between them, untouched.

Khao’khen leaned back in his chair, the worn leather creaking under his weight. “And what of the fealty given under duress, Sakh’arran? What of the loyalty born of fear rather than conviction? Such oaths are brittle things, easily shattered.”

“They are orcs, Chieftain,” Sakh’arran countered. “Fear is the foundation of many things. Our strength, our power, that is what binds them. This is what they understand.”

“Perhaps,” Khao’khen conceded, his gaze steady. “But a sandcastle built upon a beach will crumble beneath the tide, will it not? A forced allegiance, a loyalty extorted under threat, that is no better than a sandcastle before a storm. Their loyalty would be superficial at best; a hollow echo in times of danger. We need their hearts, not merely their bodies.”

“We need their swords, and their shields, to defeat Threia,” Sakh’arran snapped, his patience wearing thin. “We have little time for sentimental notions.”

“Sentimental notions?” Khao’khen echoed, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I speak of strength, Sakh’arran. True strength lies not in the subjugation of others but in their willing acceptance of one’s leadership. Let us prove to these clans that Yohan offers more than mere survival, more than the shadow of our weapons. Let us show them a future worth fighting for.”

“And how do you intend to do that, Chieftain? By offering them words? Empty promises?”

“By demonstrating our worth,” Khao’khen stated firmly. “Let us train them. Let us show them the discipline, the strategy, the strength that marks our tribe. If, after they’ve witnessed the power of Yohan on the battlefield, they choose to swear allegiance, then their loyalty will be something real. Unwavering. It will be a loyalty forged not in fear, but in respect, admiration. If they do not choose to pledge themselves to us even after the fight with Threia, then…then we will take it by force. by conquest. But even then, it is not the same.”

Sakh’arran remained unconvinced. “That is foolish sentimentality, Khao’khen. We march to war, not to a council of elders.”

“There is a time for war, and a time for diplomacy. And yes, a time for conquest. We must win the hearts of those who join us, but if their hearts remain closed, then we can open it with conquest. This is not a purely sentimental ideal, Sakh’arran. It is a strategy. It is more efficient. A united army, even if it is under force, is stronger than a fractured one. It is about the sustainability of our power. A forced allegiance might seem quick, but it is brittle. Ours is the long game.”

“The orcs do not understand such subtleties,” Sakh’arran insisted. “They understand strength. They understand obedience. They understand the whip.”

“They understand honor, too,” Khao’khen countered. “They understand loyalty, devotion, respect. We show them our strength on the battlefield, that’s true. But also in our leadership. We show them the value of alliance. We show them the worth of Yohan and what it stands for. Let them see that we are worth fighting for. If, after such demonstration, they do not see our worth, our strength, then we will have to show them in a more…persuasive manner. Conquest. But it will be a conquest that shows our strength as leaders, not just brutal force. It will demonstrate the strength of our beliefs, as opposed to the weakness of the current tribal structures. We will break the archaic systems, and replace it with a new system. A new order.”

A long silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the morning wind. The sun continued to rise higher in the sky.

“It is a risk,” Sakh’arran finally admitted, his voice softer now. “But… perhaps… perhaps there is wisdom in your words, Chieftain.”

“It is a risk,” Khao’khen agreed. “But a calculated one. A much better risk than taking the easy way out and hoping the situation holds.”

“Then so be it,” Sakh’arran said. “We will train them. We will show them the way of Yohan. And if they fail to see the light… then we shall bring the light to them. But until then, they will be given a chance to prove their worth, and to join Yohan, voluntarily. It is not entirely the path of conquest.”

Khao’khen nodded, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. The path ahead remained fraught with peril, but at least now, he and his right hand man agreed on the path they should take. The conquest of Threia, yes. But also, the conquest of hearts and minds. And if necessary, the final conquest by force of arms. The path ahead was not simple, but it was clear.

After living as an orc for some time, Khao’khen finally had some understanding of the confusing orcish traditions, beliefs, morals, and other things pertaining to their own ways, albeit his understanding is still at a shallow level. The way of the orcs is as confusing as it could get, especially to him who was originally of human origin.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep