Brann had gathered all the members of the Stormhorn Tribe at the tribe square to make an announcement.

Some of them had already heard of what happened in Grimjaw Mountain from the guards that accompanied their chieftain. They still couldn’t believe that the army sent by the middle-ranked tribes had been defeated by a low-ranking tribe!

"We don’t have much time on our hands, but I’ll try to explain everything as clearly as possible," Brann stated. "As you all know, the Bloodtusk Tribe and their allies had lost the war against the Aslan Tribe.

While I didn’t see how the battle transpired, I did see the aftermath. It was a very gruesome site. Hundreds of warriors died on the traps the Aslan Tribe had prepared beforehand."

"And you know the funny part? The Bloodtusk Tribe came there with the thought of annihilating them without mercy. Yet, they were the ones that got annihilated instead. What waited for them at Grimjaw Mountain wasn’t a weak tribe they could trample with impunity.

Instead, they saw a fortress made out of stone, which resulted in their crushing defeat. It’s safe to say that the Bloodtusk Tribe is only a shell of its former self now. If anything, the only thing that awaits them is ruin."

"It’s the exact same ruin that will befall the Ashclaw Tribe, who lost all of their warriors, as well as their chieftain."

Brann paused for a bit to give everyone some time to digest what he was saying. After a minute, he continued his speech.

"However, it is not only the Bloodtusk Tribe and the Ashclaw Tribe who will face ruin. The same will also happen to us."

After saying these words, his tribe members started to stir. Murmurs spread across the surroundings as people asked their friends why they were about to face the same ruin as the two defeated tribes.

"I’m sure you can’t comprehend what I am saying right now, so I’ll make it simple enough for all of you to understand," Brann stated. "The era of the low-ranking tribes is over. The Alborin Tribe, the Riverfang Tribe, and the Black Wolf Tribe have now merged with the Aslan Tribe, forming a new tribe.

While it is still not official, I am very sure that they will soon be recognized as a middle-ranked tribe by the high-ranking tribes. Now, what does this mean? It means that we are the only low-ranking tribe in the Borderlands."

Now that the balance of power has been destroyed, the Darkmane Tribe will definitely move to absorb the remnants of the Bloodtusk Tribe."

"The Ashclaw Tribe will also be targeted by the mid-ranking tribes, and after that, we will be next. As such, I have decided to make an important decision. I will take all of you with me to Grimjaw Mountain and join the Aslan Tribe."

Gasps spread throughout the surroundings as the members of the Stormhorn Tribe finally understood their situation.

Brann saw the look of anxiety and fear on their faces, which he had already expected. But to prevent anyone from panicking even further, he spoke once more.

"Before I left, I asked the Elders to prepare to evacuate after my return. If the Aslan Tribe loses, our situation will remain the same. But in the case they win, I know that we will be affected by the aftermath of the battle.

Even as I speak, the representatives of the middle-ranked tribes are on their way back to their respective tribes. Once they return, they will immediately send their warriors to encircle the Ashclaw Tribe’s camp to prevent any of them from escaping."

I’m sure that they also plan on doing the same thing to us, so before that happens, I urge everyone to follow me to Grimjaw Mountain while we still have time to escape."

I will not lie to any of you. The Aslan Tribe has offended the Darkmane Tribe, so the possibility of them being targeted by them is very high."

However, I will still choose to go to Grimjaw Mountain to join them. Why? It is because this is what all the low-ranking tribes have been waiting for all these years."

"For all of us to unite under one banner, and show the middle and high-ranking tribes that they cannot trample on our honor and dignity. We will no longer allow ourselves to pay tribute to them and let them order us as their dogs! Even if I were to die, I will die fighting them! Who is with me?!"

"Me!"

"I’m with you, Chieftain!"

"We’re going with you to Grimjaw Mountain!"

"Let’s fight the middle and high-ranking tribes together!"

"""Yeah!"""

Seeing that many of his people still chose to believe in him made Brann feel like he was making the right choice. Though, there were still some who didn’t want to leave, so he didn’t plan to force them.

"I understand that some of you are still reluctant to leave. If you don’t wish to go, then you may stay here. However, to those who wish to follow me, we leave in an hour.

"Prepare your wagons and take note that we will travel light. Bring only the basic necessities with you like food, water, and clothes. The rest, we can get at our destination. Please hurry everyone. Time waits for no one. May the Earth Goddess bless us all."

Brann bowed to his people before heading towards his house to prepare his belongings for departure.

As soon as their chieftain left, the tribe members moved into action.

They hurriedly returned to their own homes and started packing the things they would be bringing in their journey.

The Stormhorn Tribe was once a nomadic tribe, so every home had their own wagons, making traveling faster.

An hour later, Brann led his people towards Grimjaw Mountain.

The Stormhorn Tribe had over four hundred people. To his surprise, none of them stayed behind.

Perhaps they felt anxious of being left alone to fend for themselves, or maybe they thought that being with the people they knew was better than joining the other tribes.

Even so, Brann was happy that he was taking all of his people with him to Grimjaw Mountain, leaving none of them behind.

He rode at the very front of the caravan, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where Grimjaw Mountain was located.

The wind blew softly as hundreds of wagons creaked behind him, their wheels carving fresh paths into the earth. Paths that symbolized a choice that could no longer be undone.

Gromm guided his mount closer to his father, his usual carefree expression replaced with something far more serious.

"Father... do you really believe this will work?" Gromm asked anxiously. "What if we’re just walking into another battlefield?"

Brann didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked back at his people.

He looked at the elderly who rode on the wagons with grim resolve on their faces.

He glanced at the mothers who were holding their children, soothing them of their fears.

And finally, his gaze landed on his warriors, who were gripping their weapons tighter than ever before.

Then, he faced forward again, looking in the direction where he believed was the place they needed to be.

"We are always traversing the battlefield, Gromm," Brann replied calmly. "The only difference is that this time... we choose where we stand."

Silence followed his words, but it was not a silence of doubt.

Instead, it was a silence filled with resolve.

Gromm looked at his father before sighing in his heart. He still had doubts if what they were doing was the right thing.

The young man wasn’t aware that due to his father’s quick decision making, the Stormhorn Tribe had narrowly escaped the fate that would befall the Ashclaw Tribe, a fate that he might have regretted for the rest of his life... if it had come to pass.