Building a Kingdom and Conquering the World

59  Zahra and Grok

Zahra's bright golden eyes remained fixed on the black-haired young man standing before her, as if silently assessing him, trying to see through the person responsible for such great changes throughout Stahl. The people hailed him as their new savior, the Fire of the North, sent by the Founder to protect them from hunger and the hidden dangers of the Frozen Forest. Zahra shared this same feeling of reverence for the man who had provided to her family enough food and firewood to ward off hunger and to survive through the harsh winter.

She had enlisted into the army due to her revolt and unwavering faith in the Fire of the North, jumping into the enlistment caravan without a single speck of hesitation. From a young age, Zahra had experienced the harsh reality of the North, the persistent struggle against hunger and the unrelenting attacks from the Frozen Forest. Those experiences left deep scars within her soul, which fueled her desire to help the king to forge a new and better future for the next generations.

The army was a ray of hope, a chance to fight back against the forces that had created such a reality, a chance to break the chains of hunger and subdue the threats coming from the Frozen Forest. Henry's desire and ideals for such a future, spread across the kingdom via enlistment caravans, resonated deep within her, fueling her determination. Zahra trained like a crazy person for nearly two years, without rest and without complaining. She stood out among countless others, which gave her the chance to stand face to face with her savior.

Zahra's eyes shifted from the king to the towering figure standing beside her, a young barbarian with unkempt long brown hair and teeth resembling those of a wolf. Grok had just turned sixteen this year, becoming a full-fledged adult in the barbarian's culture. As soon as he received his Tribal Tattoo, he decided to leave Orsus, the barbarian village, and enlist into the army. The untamed spirit of his lineage made him crave for the thrill of battle and conquest, desiring to meet the legendary figure who managed to slay hundreds of Winter Orcs with a single slash of his sword.

Grok fixed his gaze upon Henry, his expression filled with defiance and a great desire for challenge. The hot breath escaping from his nostrils to meet the freezing environment gave him an animalistic air, like a bull ready to pounce at its prey. Grok had earned the reputation of a great young warrior back at Orsus, surpassing and defeating all his peers with an unmatched strength and the hidden savagery coursing through his veins. He firmly believed that he was destined to become the greatest of all barbarians, responsible for leading his tribe against the enemies.

Grok had never lost once in his life, causing him to develop an unwavering conviction in his own superiority, which had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode. The victory over the hundred chosen people behind him served as a catalyst to boost his confidence even further, as a sense of grandeur engulfed him. Swallowed in those feelings, Grok felt that the black-haired king in front of him was nothing and didn't deserve to command someone such as himself. He wouldn't submit to anyone weaker than him, thus, he must challenge him.

Caught between Zahra and Grok's stares, Henry could clearly discern the difference in their attitudes. Zahra watched him with worship and reverence, while Grok's eyes were filled by defiance and insubordination. As a king, Henry understood the contrasting customs of the barbarians, who valued strength above all else and were obsessed with the adrenaline of battles. However, the pride and ego ingrained into him couldn't stand such rebelliousness coming from someone under him. It was preposterous.

During his two-year reign over the barbarians, Henry had come to realize the rarity of individuals like Gedhe. He could embrace the long-term perspective and abandon his personal interests for the greater good of his people. A gem amongst the egoistic and individualistic barbarians, who viewed the community as a tool to increase their chance of survival and preserve their lineage. These traits made Orsus a difficult place to govern and maintain peace.

Henry quickly suppressed his pride and anger, realizing it was not the moment to discipline the young barbarian before him. He looked at Zahra and Grok and then glanced up at the darkening winter sky. It would be a night exercise.

"Great, the teams have been decided then."- Henry remarked, his gaze shifting to the forty-nine soldiers lined up behind them.

Henry couldn't help but observe the composition of Grok's group. They were predominantly muscular men, lean and devoid of excess fat, favoring swords and axes as their weapons of choice. Their selection seemed to emphasize raw physical strength without much consideration for other factors. On the other hand, Zahra's side displayed a more balanced approach, incorporating archers and warriors, taking into account various skills and roles. It was an interesting choice that reflected their distinct perspectives on combat and strength.

"I will now explain the rules of this mock battle" – Henry announced and looked at them, ensuring that everyone, particularly Grok, understood him. As the sole barbarian on this mission and hence the strangest to the Common Language, Grok could be facing difficulties on following his words. However, contrary to his expectations, the young barbarian nodded in understanding, giving Henry the sign to continue.

"We have hidden two flags deep within the surrounding forest" – Henry explained, pointing to the forest around them as he continued – "The flag on the left side belongs to Zahra's team, while the flag on the right side belongs to Grok's team." – The king raised his hands, showcasing their respective directions.

The soldiers nodded in response showing their understanding.

"Your initial objective is to locate and safeguard your own flag." - Henry carried on with his explanation - "Once you've secured your flag, your ultimate task is to capture the enemy's flag and bring it back to this spot. The first team to retrieve the enemy's flag will earn a guaranteed place in the Commander's Training Center as students. I will repeat, everyone in the team will have a chance to become full-fledged captains."

The soldiers almost jumped in excitement upon hearing Henry's words, threatening to break the silence with a unison chorus. However, they rapidly managed to reign the excitement, but Henry could see their fists tightening as they looked at the adversary's team with a competitive gaze. The chance of attending to the Commanders Training Center was too great to overlook. It was like a pass for a great future, even Zahra seemed attracted by the chance.

"Great. Does anyone have any doubts?" Henry asked, scanning the assembled soldiers. He observed as their heads shook in unison, signaling their understanding and readiness. Just as he was about to commence the exercise, his attention was drawn to Grok, who boldly raised his hand.

"Ask" – Henry nodded and waved his hand, allowing him to ask.

"If me win... can me battle you?"- Grok's words were laced with determination, though his struggle with the Common Language was evident.

Henry's gaze met Grok's unwavering stare as a moment of silence hung in the air as Henry contemplated whether this kid was stupid or just faking it. The soldiers, sensing the tension, held their breath, awaiting the king's response. Those behind Grok wanted to slap him.

However, a second later, a smile tugged at the corners of Henry's lips as he stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Grok. Placing a hand on the young warrior's shoulder, he spoke with a mixture of anger and madness– "I do commend your spirit, even though I hate such insubordination from my soldiers. But, if you prove yourself in this battle, I will gladly face you."

Before speaking his next words, a mischievous and vengeful smile appeared on the king's lips – "However, if you lose, I will tie you on top of the house upside down without any clothes for the whole night. How about that?"

Henry pointed to the battered towering spire, which were covered by the white snow, proof of the extremely cold environment there. Grok looked there and swallowed hard, a hint of regret showing in his eyes. However, it was rapidly hidden as determination took over his whole being. He was a great barbarian and would never lose to such a small being such as Zahra and the others.

Henry pointed towards the towering spires, their battered peaks covered in a pristine blanket of white snow, a stark reminder of the unforgiving cold that awaited a companion. Grok's gaze followed, his throat tightening as he thoughts about the punishment. A flicker of doubt and regret momentarily crossed through his eyes, but it swiftly vanished, replaced by an unwavering resolve. He was a formidable barbarian, determined to prove his strength against Zahra and punch this small king.

"Good." - Grok nodded with newfound determination, his voice laced with courage. Unbeknownst to him, he had been trapped into a self-disciplinary action, since Henry had complete confidence on the young man's lack of leadership and strategy skills.

"Let the battle commence," Henry announced, his hands clasped firmly together.