Chapter 1032 - The King of Graycastle (II) (1/2)
Chapter 1032: The King of Graycastle (II)
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
At the headstream of Silver Stream located in the Southernmost Region of the Sand Sea.
Brian sat in a tent, waiting for news from the front to arrive. Sitting opposite to him was the chief of the Wildflame clan, Guelz Burnflame, and the elder of the Osha Clan, Thuram.
The two men had become the representatives of the Mojin Clan.
Together with the commander of the Gun Battalion who represented the chief, all the leaders who participated in the decision-making process with respect to the Sand Nations were here.
The cold desert wind whistled outside the tent, but the interior of the tent was quite warm as if it were sitting on the top of a giant brazier. No matter how cold the ground seemed to be, every time Brian buried his feet into the sand, he could feel heat escape from underneath. It was even warmer than the brick beds and the heating system used in Neverwinter.
The locals invented this so-called “sand bed”, which was a shallow hole as wide as a man in the ground. Native people would first replace the coarse sand with sifted fine sand, and then bury themselves in it to keep their body temperatures. The fine sand had a soft touch and was even softer than burlap matresses. With just a tent and a sand bed, the Sand Nations could spend their winter very comfortably.
Sadly, it was also the same terrestrial heat that destroyed the life here. As seawater gradually evaporated, the desert within 100 miles was wiped out by seasalts. Hardly any sandworms or scorpions lurked around, let alone trees and flowers.
Without an oasis, there would be no food. The entire plain was thus a bleak emptiness. Perhaps, nowhere in the whole Southermost Region could be more dismal and dead than here except Blackwater Swamp.
For the past hundred years, Mojins had erected several wooden houses here and there in this saline-alkali land to provide accommodations for traveling salt merchants. However, things had now changed.
“You don’t seem to be worried at all, young man.” Guelz ended the silence. “The Wildwave Clan and the Cut Bone Clan were two biggest clans in Iron Sand City. The chief can easily crush them, but this doesn’t mean those small tribes can do that too. Do you really put so much faith in them?”
As Guelz spoke out, Thuram also said, “In the past one year, not a single tribe in Iron Sand City has been promoted to be one of the six big clans. Apparently, Wildwave and Cut Bone have kept all the resources to themselves. With sufficient food, a clan in the Southernmost Region can easily recover from a previous loss. They’re now probably stronger than prior to you coming here.”
“Faith? No…” Brian slowly shook his head. “I don’t put faith in them.”
“Then… why didn’t you request troops from the chief?” Thuram asked in surprise. “100 soldiers and the warriors from the Wildflame Clan and the Osha Clan would be more than enough to deter those brutes from setting foot on the small oasis again.”
“Then what? The First Army would be permanently stationed in Silver Stream Oasis protecting those small tribes?” Brian stared at him. “Do you think His Majesty wants a future like this?”
“Um, well…” Thuram was at a loss for words.
Shortly after the relocation, they had started exploiting the resources in the Southernmost Region. Apart from building the Festive Harbor at Endless Cape, another key project was the development of the saline-alkali land at the headstream of Silver Stream. Since there was no river, they had to rely on manpower and animal power to transfer those salts out of the desert, to the closest branch of Redwater River by cart.
For this reason, Fallen Dragon Ridge and Port of Clearwater had provided competitive wages and benefits to the laborers, in hopes of attracting more Sand Nations to help with the transfer.
Within a year, various tents had been pitched in the saline-alkali land, and the place was soon alive with busy workers.