Chapter 31: The Village’s Desperate Plea

That night, the village chief convened a meeting, gathering representatives from each household.

Their discussion revolved around a single, pressing concern: safety!

In the flickering candlelight, a villager spoke up:

“Though the Nun has willingly ascended the mountain, offered herself as a sacrifice to the ferocious demons, and the diviner assured us that the village will know peace from now on…”

“Yet, there’s always the possibility, however slim, that the demons’ savagery might surpass even the diviner’s foresight, leaving our village’s future utterly uncertain!”

As the villagers themselves readily admitted, while they could betray their comrades without a shred of conscience, they became fiercely earnest when their personal safety was at stake.

During the day, they had unequivocally believed every word the diviner uttered. But now, under the cloak of night, after several hours of sober reflection, their minds harbored a growing skepticism towards such speculative pronouncements.

The demons on the mountain showed no immediate signs of relocating their stronghold. The villagers’ resolve, however, was clearly insufficient to simply wait for the demons to depart on their own; they would inevitably crumble under the prolonged tension.

To bolster their sense of security, the village chief took the lead, proposing a rare and genuinely effective idea:

“If we are to protect ourselves, the village’s own strength alone is utterly insufficient. We must seek external aid!”

The village chief was merely an ordinary old man, plagued by ill health. Yet, even such an unremarkable person, driven by the desire for self-preservation, could sometimes extend their claws towards the innocent, without even realizing it themselves.

He addressed the villagers:

“The demons must perish! For the sake of this village, we must devise a plan to eradicate every last one of those merciless devils!”

As he spoke, the village chief’s mouth seemed to contort as if he were baring fangs—not as long as a vampire’s, perhaps, but certainly sharper.

The villagers, however, found it difficult to fully heed the chief’s words. It wasn’t that their consciences were pricked; indeed, how could something that didn’t exist ache?

Rather, the villagers simply lacked faith in themselves, possessing a clear and stark understanding of their collective combat prowess:

“Chief, even if all the able-bodied young men in the village were to fight together, perhaps we could take down one or two demons…”

“But their numbers are in the thousands—no less than our entire village!”

“If we were to attack with only our strength, wouldn’t it be nothing but a futile sacrifice?”

“Precisely!”

The village chief rapped his cane against the floor several times. The old, dilapidated floor tiles, unable to withstand such forceful striking, groaned in protest, though their sound was dwarfed by the chief’s booming voice:

“What did I just say? Seek external aid! What does it matter if the villagers are no match for the demons? Isn’t it enough to let others do the fighting for us?”

From beneath the table, the village chief retrieved a map. Its surface was mottled with yellowish-brown stains, clearly marking it as an ancient artifact, many years old.

“Do you see this? This invaluable map has been passed down since my grandfather’s generation. For us, who never leave the village, it is a crucial tool for understanding the outside world.”

On the map, a large red circle encompassed a ‘square-shaped building,’ symbolizing their village. Beyond the village’s periphery, several great nations were marked in prominent lettering.

This era was unlike later times; the concept of the ‘Five Great Empires,’ such as Dibiles, did not yet exist. To be precise: in the current age, across the entire continent, there was no true ’empire’ in the conventional sense. Scholars of continental history preferred to refer to this period as the ‘Kingdom Era.’ This designation served to distinguish it from the ‘Empire Era’ that would follow.

All the dominant powers of this age could be described in three words, forming what later generations would fondly refer to as the ‘Seven Great Nations’! These seven nations were perpetually at odds, each commanding a host of subservient client states. To draw a parallel for this period of history, imagine seven equally powerful gang bosses, who would, from time to time, lead their subordinates to brazenly cause trouble in each other’s territories, employing various tactics to disrupt their rivals. Yet, despite all the smashing, none possessed the power to utterly destroy a rival’s stronghold. Moreover, the aggrieved party would often return home only to discover, to their astonishment, that their own turf had also been ‘looted, smashed, and plundered’ by another adversary! Overall, these seven nations found themselves in a perpetual stalemate, with no single power able to decisively overcome another, thus maintaining the delicate balance.

Despite the unchanging territorial map, each nation was vigorously striving for advancement, relentlessly training soldiers and cunningly abducting populations every single day. For in an age devoid of a unified empire, the continent was predominantly dotted with smaller states. Even the national power of the ‘Seven Great Nations’ paled in comparison to the ‘Five Great Empires’ of Wang Xiaole’s era.

To illustrate: the nation ruled by Isabella, for instance, was considered one of the weaker among the ‘Five Great Empires,’ yet mobilizing an army of over 300,000 was no issue for them. Conversely, these ‘Seven Great Nations,’ without factoring in their client states’ contributions, would reach their absolute limit by deploying around 100,000 troops. Fewer soldiers ultimately signified weaker national power, and insufficient national strength was inherently linked to a sparse population.

Consequently, in this period, even a mere village, with its population numbering only in the thousands, was enough to attract the attention of high-ranking officials from larger nations. Cai’s village, for example, despite its remote location and strict lack of governance by any specific nation, was nonetheless a coveted prize for every major power.

The village chief’s current scheme, broadly speaking, amounted to ‘selling out the village.’ His intentions were articulated as follows:

“We shall seek aid from the nearest great nation, offering our entire village as tribute in exchange for their military intervention. No matter how ferocious the demons may be, before truly formidable knights, they will all be utterly annihilated!”

This plan, conceived by the village chief at the cost of his limited brain cells, struck the villagers as imperfect. They felt there should be a better idea, yet none immediately came to mind.

Perceiving their hesitation, the village chief understood that these people were still unwilling to surrender their free lives and become mere foundational elements of a great nation. Then again, when had the village chief ever been willing to accept the rule of a kingdom? In this village, he at least governed everyone and bowed to no one, effectively reigning like a king of a minuscule state. But what would happen once a kingdom ruled them? The village chief would be reduced to a lowly, insignificant official, forever stripped of his autonomy.

Yet, what alternative was there to seeking a kingdom’s protection? The emergence of the demon horde, at its core, merely presented an opportunity for the entire village to realize that in the current era, a single village was utterly incapable of self-preservation. Thus, it became inevitable for smaller powers, in their quest for survival, to rely on larger powers and accept assimilation, becoming a part of them.

Wang, along with her demonic horde, had unknowingly ventured near the village, inadvertently striking a sensitive chord within the villagers, ultimately leading to the premature adoption of the subsequent decision.

Finally, swayed by the village chief’s persuasion, the villagers agreed to dispatch a letter signifying their submission. The weighty task of drafting it fell upon the person within the room most skilled in writing. Their sole demand was that the writing, when penned, must convey genuine sincerity.

Entrusting the delivery of the letter also required a dedicated individual; the fastest runner in the village was deemed perfectly capable of this mission. This person merely needed to follow the roughly marked route on the map to reach their destination. While this map was indeed inherited from their ancestors, the contemporary layout of the outside world had not significantly diverged from what it depicted.

With one crucial exception: when the village chief’s grandfather originally drew the map, the only nations of significant note on the entire continent were indeed the ‘Seven Great Nations.’ However, today was not decades past. Beyond those seven nations, another country now demanded attention. This was the ‘Kingdom of Sero,’ a power that had rapidly risen in the last decade or so, championed by a few smaller states in the Western Continent, and which would later be known as the ‘Eighth Nation’!