After the people were done with their food and medicine, they all talked amongst each other and then stood in front of the building, telling the masters that they wanted to thank their chief personally.

Galthor had already retired to his room for the night, where he had his own meal. The earlier fight had worn him down more than others knew; the Divine energy he used took a toll on him, and he was still recovering.

Not to talk about the fact that his Divine Core wasn't even full. '..if I have more worshipping then I'll get filled quickly and the quality and quantity would keep increasing..'

So when Karathra came to report what the people wanted, Galthor didn't hesitate to appear on the balcony of the building. He didn't want to miss the opportunity now that he had fed them.

Naturally, they all wanted to express their gratitude to the one who had saved them. They all thought the chief was dead and the masters scattered, with no hope of anyone taking care of them anymore. Their hope had hit rock bottom, and the only thing that remained was how to get a quick death.

No one was more shocked than them when they were suddenly released, just like how Galthor suddenly cooked for the elderly and children.

In a way, it was a miracle—something that had never happened, and something the barbarians would never expect to happen. What hope do slaves have?

So he stood in front of them and watched them, with Karathra beside him.

Down below, the determined eyes of warriors shone up at him. Eyes that were dark like the shadows cast by mountains, eyes that were filled with unshakable will.

Just like Galthor's father wanted, there were more warriors than not among the people. His eyes took in the whole lot, and it warmed his heart. '...good. Warriors are the backbone of any forces, with nothing to defend them, what can they build?..'

Among those gathered, there was a group of about twenty that stood apart at the very center in front. The aura around them was different, and their eyes were sharp as axes even if their bodies were thin and malnourished.

Karathra leaned closer and whispered when he saw the direction of his eyes. "Those are the advanced warriors. They are in the fourth and third stages of essence using. They are also the hope of the former chief, as he wanted all of them to reach masters."

Galthor nodded. "People of Stronghide, I am glad to have you back!"

And that was that. His voice was strong and powerful as it enveloped every single one of them.

If they expected him to give a speech, then they were absolutely wrong, as he just stood there and watched them. They watched him back.

The atmosphere was quickly becoming awkward when one of the barbarians, an old one, raised his voice, forcing out words that boomed. "Thank you, Chief! Thank you for getting out my daughter! Thank you for giving us food. Thank you!"

With that, the whole lot began to raise their voices in thanks that shook the air. The sound of barbarians shouting was truly a sight to behold, and Galthor couldn't help but think of thousands of barbarian soldiers shouting.

It warmed his heart.

'...don't get ahead of yourself..'

Galthor looked down at them and raised his fist. Soon, their voices died down. Then he said flatly, "It is simply what I should do as the Chief of Stronghide. But still, I accept your thanks."

Right then, his figure was dignified and bold. He seemed so high as he looked down at them and said those words that they all felt something stir in them.

But internally, Galthor wasn't as dignified. '..come on! I'm just putting on a front! I actually want to spread the words of myself! But I don't want to be so shameless about it! One of you guys have to ask questions right? Go! Go on!..'

The people were still cheering at him, but fortunately for Galthor, one person stepped forward. "Chief Galthor! I am Grimvar, and I have some things to say!"

Galthor looked down at him patiently as Karathra quickly whispered words to him. "That's Grimvar. He's in the fourth stage and a prodigy that's expected to surpass even me. Also, he's the informal leader of the advanced warriors."

Galthor nodded. "What did you have to say, Grimvar?"

Grimvar looked up at him patiently, his eyes clear and sharp even if his body was haggard. "Chief Galthor, no offense, but I don't understand. We know you, back in the tribe. You were... well, you weren't the best warrior. But now there are whispers of you killing four cursed monsters?

"And why are you also spreading rumors that you killed the Winged people's first Commander to free us?"

'..yes! Just what I wanted!..'

Everyone had gone silent now to listen to his words as they looked back from Galthor to Grimvar.

Galthor smiled slowly and gently. "I really did not kill four cursed monsters. Nor did I kill the first Commander of the Winged people."

Grimvar turned around quickly and made a sound in his throat as if he was telling someone, '..told you so!..'

But Galthor wasn't done. "I only killed a cursed monster. And the Winged people Commander that I killed was just a duel, it wasn't intentional. Oh, and to also clear the air, I also gave Skolvar Dustfang a warrior's death!"

Stunned silence followed his words, and Grimvar's eyes couldn't get any bigger as he stared up at him in pure shock. "But..."

Karathra stepped forward. "I saw it all. The Chief killed a cursed monster and the first Commander of the Winged people, as well as Skolvar. He had already brought back the three masters that went to the Winged people."

Although the villagers knew he killed a cursed monster, they hadn't heard anything about the other news, and now they were reeling.

Grimvar was the first to snap out of it. "But... but, Chief Galthor. You were..."

Galthor laughed. "Go on."

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