Chapter 421: Chapter 169: Mountain Rock Bear Race

"Heavy cavalry! Human heavy cavalry!"

"Heavy cavalry? Hall? The human heavy cavalry is here? How many of them?"

Chief Moer lay on the ground. He’d just taken a direct hit from a Magic Crystal Cannon, and he was not in good shape.

"Hall? Why aren’t you saying anything? Hurry up and rally the troops!"

Chief Moer glared at the stunned Hall, his face contorted with fury.

Hall just stared blankly, completely motionless.

"It’s over, my friend... It’s all over..."

The words barely registered with the dazed Chief Moer. He could sense a large force of human heavy cavalry charging from the distance, but he couldn’t make out their exact numbers.

Using Druid Magic to patch himself up, Chief Moer struggled to his feet.

When he saw what was happening in the distance, he instantly understood what Hall meant by ’it’s all over’.

A cloud of dust billowed, stretching as far as the eye could see. At the vanguard were Full Armor Knights, their bodies wreathed in a burning battle aura.

"Is that... a Knight Order?"

"The sword and shield... That’s the Fengman Knight Order," Hall said.

The Fengman Knight Order. What an ancient name. Chief Moer felt like the last time he’d heard it was in his grandfather’s stories—and his grandfather had been telling tales about his own great-grandfather.

’These great human nobles haven’t changed in a thousand years.’

At that moment, Moer was filled with a deep and thorough regret.

Chief Moer had brought the vast majority of his clan’s strength on this campaign—nearly all of their Extraordinaries.

If this had been a straight fight, Chief Moer still had over a hundred Extraordinaries under his command. They might have been able to leverage the size advantage of the Gray Rock Giant Bears to hold their own against the humans for a while.

But now, all of that was gone. Even though it had been a long time since Chief Moer had experienced a real war, he knew that in the face of a heavy cavalry charge, a broken formation was no different from a mob of peasants.

’It’s over...’

Chief Moer thought of his people back north. His recklessness had doomed them to die in the mountains. Soon, the world might no longer have a Mountain Rock Bear Race.

"Hey, brother."

Suddenly, Chief Moer felt a pat on his shoulder.

He turned to see Hall.

Hall’s face was a mask of grief.

"Moer, don’t blame me. You can’t run in your condition, and I can’t carry someone your size. The army has already scattered..."

"What... what are you trying to say?"

A terrible premonition bloomed in Chief Moer’s heart.

"My friend, don’t worry. You saved my life. As for your Bear Race’s problems, I’ll help you out once I’ve driven back the humans! I’m heading off now!"

With that, Hall took off at a run, leaving the stunned Chief Moer behind.

The human heavy cavalry drew ever closer. Chief Moer strained with all his might, trying to move his legs.

No one wants to die, and Chief Moer was no exception.

"ARGH! You bastards, I’ll take you all on!"

Since he truly couldn’t move and had no other options, Chief Moer could only choose to die a heroic death.

Awkwardly, however, the human cavalry seemed to be deliberately avoiding him. No one charged anywhere near him, making Chief Moer feel like he had thrown a punch into a bale of cotton.

Human heavy cavalry streamed past him, completely ignoring him, leaving Chief Moer utterly confused about the situation.

Not until the human cavalry had dispersed did a few figures approach, strolling leisurely from the distance.

The man in the lead was a handsome, golden-haired youth.

"You must be the Druid who was casting Magic just now."

The young man said with a chuckle.

"My name is Robson, of the human Odogin Family. And you are, my friend?"

Robson swung himself off his horse, his Personal Guards close behind.

Since the Mountain Rock Bear Race was primarily made up of Druids, they naturally spoke the continental common tongue. Chief Moer understood everything Robson said perfectly.

Chief Moer stared at the man before him, completely baffled.

’This is a battlefield. Why did he spare me?’

"Moer," Chief Moer said.

"Quick, help this esteemed Mr. Giant Bear to his feet."

Robson called to the men beside him.

The Personal Guards at his sides immediately stepped forward.

"I hear you Druids are quite skilled at ripening crops?" Robson asked.

"What if we are?" Chief Moer asked, growing even more confused.

Robson smiled.

"It’s been so many years since you left the Beastman Empire. Even when humanity retook Julian, we didn’t move against you.

So why have you now chosen to abandon the light for the darkness?"

Chief Moer wanted to retort. ’It’s because you humans didn’t have the strength! You could barely hold on to Julian, so how could you have possibly had the energy to come looking for trouble with us?’

But, considering the circumstances, it seemed this human had no intention of killing him.

"My lands were attacked by a horde of Magical Beasts. I needed the Centaurs’ help," Chief Moer said honestly.

"Magical Beasts?"

"How many? Can’t your army even handle a few Magical Beasts?"

Chief Moer looked at Robson. For some reason, he felt that the man’s interest had peaked the moment he mentioned Magical Beasts.

"My tribe offended a Legendary-Tier Magical Beast. It unleashed a massive beast tide against us.

We of the Mountain Rock Bear Race are not known for our speed. These Magical Beasts are endless, and we can’t even hunt properly anymore," Chief Moer said.

’Endless? And Legendary-Tier!’

Robson’s eyes lit up with greed when he heard this.

A Legendary-Tier Magical Beast was even harder to capture than Gold was to find. Legendary-Tiers could almost all fly, and they possessed a deep, essential understanding of a particular domain.

Its combat power was roughly equivalent to an entire Knight Order, but being a single entity, its ability to project that power was limited.

Capturing a Legendary-Tier Magical Beast was out of the question. Robson had no experts of that caliber, so it was an impossible task.

What truly excited Robson was what Chief Moer had said about the *endless* Magical Beasts.

Many of Robson’s men had already reached their level cap. After these last two battles, he had gained another two hundred Tier Seven Soldiers.

He could already predict that by the time his campaign on the Beastman Grassland was over, the number of Tier Seven Soldiers would multiply!

That meant Robson would have to consider the problem of supplying Magical Beast Meat. A sufficient supply of Magical Beast Meat meant a sufficient supply of Extraordinary Soldiers.

"How about we make a deal?" Robson said with a grin.

"A deal? What kind of deal?" Chief Moer asked.

"You allied yourself with the Beastmen and suffered a crushing defeat. By all rights, I should execute every last one of you."

"However, considering you had your reasons... my Frank Kingdom has always held a philosophy of tolerance.

You will relocate your territory to a place of my choosing. The Druids of your clan will come live in my lands and work for me.

In return, I will spare your lives and help you repel the beast tide."

"Moer, this is a win-win situation," Robson said with a smile.

Chief Moer’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"Human, are you serious?"

"My reputation, Robson’s reputation, is well-known. If you don’t believe me, I am willing to swear an oath to the Lord of Dawn!" Robson declared.

Chief Moer was silent for a moment.

"Is it the Druids you want?"

"Send your army to save my people at once," Chief Moer said. "Do that, and I will tell you how to get all the Druids you could want, and I will swear my allegiance to you."

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