"Lord, I am willing to become one of your people!"

The wild man who had first spoken gritted his teeth and said this.

He had no family in the Tribe and was all alone. Rather than remain a captive with an unknown future, it was better to declare his stance now.

"Very good. From now on, you are a citizen of High Cliff Castle. Three meals a day, and I guarantee you’ll have your fill," Levi said, patting him on the shoulder.

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone looked on in disbelief. After all, three guaranteed meals a day was a privilege only the Clan Leader and the Shaman enjoyed.

And all they had to do was work—they weren’t required to fight.

Although they were Warriors, they ate two meals a day at most. Factoring in the need to care for the little ones at home, their lives were actually quite hard-pressed.

After all, their food came entirely from hunting and raiding, which was very unreliable.

Whether it was true or not, it was worth a shot. Many of them began to waver.

"Lord, I’ll join too."

"Me too..."

...

In an instant, Levi received requests to join from a dozen or so men, and he approved them one by one with a smile.

Levi’s party panel had no member limit, so he wasn’t afraid of these citizens taking up slots. However, he did separate them into two distinct groups: citizens and soldiers.

This meant that even if he won a war with his Barbarians, these citizens wouldn’t share in the experience points—another difference between his Conquering System and the game.

Even if these citizens accumulated enough experience to level up through long periods of personal training, Levi had no plans to upgrade them for now.

Only the most outstanding among them would be absorbed into the army and given an upgrade.

Levi wasn’t stingy with rewards for the one who dared to step forward first. As for those who joined later, Levi only promised them two meals a day.

Even so, their faces were filled with excitement.

Levi didn’t waste time on pleasantries; he immediately ordered someone to prepare a meal for them.

Before long, the dozen or so Warriors from the Evil Fang Tribe who had become citizens of High Cliff Castle were squatting outside the captive holding area, shoveling down food from their bowls.

The large piece of fatty, braised meat in their bowls made the other captives swallow hard, their eyes practically glowing green with envy.

Although Levi wouldn’t abuse his captives, he wouldn’t treat them like masters either. One meal of leftovers a day was enough, just so long as they didn’t starve.

Now that someone had set an example, it probably wouldn’t be long before this group of miserable wild men all submitted.

The Lord couldn’t make many promises, but he could guarantee that even if he had to sell his own ass, he would never let his people go hungry.

As for the Goblins and Kobolds? They were just slaves. A slave was lucky to get a mouthful of food, let alone be picky.

’If you don’t do it, someone else will. There’s a whole bunch of starving Goblins and Kobolds in the Wilderness just waiting for this spot.’

The well-fed Warriors of the Evil Fang Tribe were then sent off to the mines.

...

The tranquility of the Feder Tribe did not last long. Just one day later, as the sun was just beginning to cast its hazy light and the dew on the grass had yet to dry, a warning horn sounded from the watchtower.

Looking out, one could see countless heads moving and milling about in the forest, startling the beasts and birds into flight.

They were hordes of Wilderness Bandits, still waiting, still gathering their strength, but this process would not last much longer.

The Feder Warriors assembled quickly. The Burning Corps of High Cliff Castle was also ready. Everyone was prepared for this battle they knew was coming.

They donned their Three-Layered Heavy Armor, repaired by the Feder Blacksmiths, held a square Giant Shield two men high in their left hands, and wielded a Giant Sword in their right.

Levi led the fully armed and armored Beastman Barbarians out from the protection of the walls, forming up in front of them.

One by one, the heavy, square Steel Shields, nearly two and a half men high, slammed onto the ground under the immense power of the Beastman Barbarians, kicking up clouds of dust.

The silent Warriors stood like steel statues. Only the eyes visible through their helmets proved that bodies of flesh and blood resided within the steel.

Behind them stood the Feder Warriors, armed with long spears. If the Barbarians could not hold the line, they were the final defense for the wall.

The Feder Remnants’ wall was only four men high. Against such a large number of Wilderness Bandits, it was impossible to defend from atop it.

They would only need to suffer a few hundred casualties to pile the bodies high enough to scale it, charging into the Feder Remnants’ camp over the corpses of their comrades.

Therefore, Levi had to lead the Beastman Barbarians to protect the wall as best they could, buying more time for the archer-ready Feder Warriors behind them to maximize the wall’s defensive potential.

These Steel Shields were the result of the Feder Blacksmiths working day and night at his request.

Forging weapons and Armor might take a long time, but when it came to just shields, they could produce many in a single day.

In a world where such technology had not yet truly developed, a telescope was undoubtedly a powerful reconnaissance tool.

Not only could it spot enemy movements in advance, but it could also be used to scrutinize their details.

This storm, which had been gathering for three days, was even more severe than Levi had anticipated. Faced with the tough nut to crack that was the Feder Remnants, the Wilderness Natives from different Tribes had actually formed a temporary alliance.

However, the Lord was unconcerned. Even united, they were nothing more than a disorganized mob.

This was a disorganized mob in the most literal sense: no organization, no formations, no coordination, and not even a single commander to lead the entire army.

But their numbers were truly immense. A careful look revealed the presence of all the common Races from the area: Goblins, Kobolds, Northern Barbarians, Mountain Lizardmen... and even about a dozen Giants mixed in.

Trolls and Giants are two different creatures. The simplest way to distinguish between them is that the former have normal intelligence, while the latter are like simple-minded children.

However, when heaven closes a door, it is bound to open a window.

Though these Giants were dim-witted, with the intelligence of an eight-year-old child, their bodies were a full four men high. They weighed several thousand pounds and possessed immense Power. They were true Giant Beasts, and the Goblins and Kobolds only came up to their knees.

"How many are on the other side?"

Levi rested his Giant Sword against his shield in a commanding posture. His voice, muffled by his cross-slitted Iron Barrel Helmet, came out deep and resonant.

"Four thousand, or maybe more?" Zat sounded uncertain.

The forest obscured their view, and since the native Alliance Army was a chaotic mess with no formations, it was impossible to get an accurate count.

"And how many do we have?"

"Forty-eight... Three hundred and sixty-eight."

"Not bad. I’ll kill a few hundred, and the rest of you just need to kill ten each. Shouldn’t be too hard."

Although he couldn’t see the expression on his boss’s face inside the helmet, Zat could tell from his tone that he was probably smiling. Zat grinned as well, his tense nerves easing slightly.

Even though he was a seasoned veteran, he had to admit—with a total of forty-eight men, including the chief, holding off the first wave of nearly four thousand, he had never fought a battle with such overwhelming odds!