"We can't use the same approach that the Western Union used 300 years ago. We simply don't have that kind of time. Every single day is precious, time we cannot afford to lose. So, we can start by... well, what else? Threat," said Silver, leaning back in his chair as if his words were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Threat?! Did you even hear what I just said, boy? Do you know how long it would take to make those stubborn old fools kneel without overwhelming military power?!" barked Ragan, his frustration boiling over at Silver's idea.
"It's about time we used Lingxu's name for something good anyway. We're the easternmost tribe; even if we stay put, we'll be the last tribe the Khala'ad reach. That's an advantage. And when I say threat, I mean something closer to a nudge. If worse comes to worst and they still refuse to help us repel the Khala'ad, we can always accept the Baiyue vassal offer and become one of their vassals. Nothing to lose anyway," said Silver, a cocky smile playing on his lips as he lounged with his usual carefree attitude.
"The Baiyue Empire offered us a vassal treaty? When did that happen?" asked Lugh, one of the Tribe Elders, drawing the curiosity of every adult in the room. None of them had ever heard of such an offer.
"Huh? Nope. But we can say they did. Those old chiefs will believe it once we reveal my 'close ties' with the 5th Prince," said Silver, twirling a chess piece gifted to him by Lingxu.
"You mean... we lie? But what if they still refuse to help, even after that?" asked Hamid, one of the tribe's lead warriors.
"Yes, that might happen, especially with those arrogant fools from the Kalum Tribe," said Narda, another veteran warrior who had fought against the Kalum many times before.
"None of them are truly idiots. They know the danger, and they understand the cost of surrendering or fighting alone. The Eastern tribes never followed the Mercenary King for a reason. Every one of them has a long, complicated history: great tribes that fell and became small, families torn apart by internal strife, ancient grudges that never died. Every Chief carries pride, maybe arrogance. So, we'll give them both a threat and a choice. We'll say that as the last great tribe standing on the eastern side of the desert, we will fight. But if they refuse to fight with us, we'll abandon the desert life and go under Baiyue's rule," explained Silver, his tone calm but filled with conviction.
"But... we won't stop with threats. We'll give them hope too, a hope that allows them to keep their pride. Hope that even if they unite under our banner for now, they can still rule their own tribes afterward. That way, we can turn this into a long battle, or at least a convincing show that we can repel the Northern Khala'ad's invasion. If we make the East seem unbreakable, the North will back down after a month. Wars consume resources, and for those resources to reach their frontlines, time is needed. We, fighting on our own land, have the advantage. The Khala'ad know they can't win a long war against that. So they'll want it over quickly," Silver continued, laying out his plan with the clarity and depth of a seasoned strategist.
The Elders and warrior leaders fell silent in deep thought. One by one, they all came to the same conclusion that this boy's plan could actually work.
"What if, even after all that, some tribe still refuses to join the coalition?" Narda asked again, his brows furrowed.
"Then it'll be elimination," Silver answered without hesitation. "And honestly, I'm hoping for that. If a smaller tribe refuses, we can make an example out of them. Say most tribes agree, and only one refuses. Knowing everyone else stands united, we'll crush that tribe with our full force. We couldn't do that to the Kalum before because our warriors were spread too thin. You of all people, warrior Narda, would understand that."
Narda felt a chill run through him. A boy barely nine years old was speaking of war and blood with the calmness of an emperor.
"But if we send our warriors to subjugate a tribe without the intent to kill, we'll take heavy losses," Hamid said cautiously. He feared the boy didn't understand the blood price of his own words.
"Huh? Why would we do that? Just kill everyone who resists," Silver said casually. "It's elimination, not subjugation. Not literally everyone, of course, we're not beasts. Those who resist will be cut down. Those who surrender and fight alongside us will be embraced. Simple as that."
The room fell silent again. The men inside could feel it, that if they ever disobeyed him, Silver might show them the same ruthless resolve. The pressure radiating from the boy felt like that of a ruler wearing a crown, not a child who still hadn't reached his tenth year.
Ragan, as a father, felt pride and fear at once. He knew his son's words came from conviction, but also from a burden too heavy for a boy to bear. And so, he asked the question no one else dared to.
"Isn't that the same thing the Khala'ad are doing, just with extra steps? Wouldn't that make us no better than them?" asked Ragan, not as a chief, but as a father seeking the moral truth in his son's resolve.
Silver smiled at his father's question. "Yes, it is the same. But at least the hope we offer won't be a lie. We'll let them rule their tribes again once the Khala'ad are gone. And if I have to use force to protect what's ours, I'll do it. If it means the grandmothers of our tribe can still gossip and laugh, if children my age can still swing wooden swords and dream of glory, and if every warrior's wife can sleep peacefully knowing her husband will come home after defending them, then I'll do it. If I have to burn an enemy village to protect that peace, I'll burn it. Those who are my people, I will defend even against the ancient gods themselves. Those who aren't, well, I hope they find a quick death," Silver said, ending with a playful grin that half-lightened the heavy air.
The Elders smiled, not because the words were childish, but because they were proud. Proud that such a leader was being born among them.
As the meeting concluded and the plan refined, the Elders and clan leaders began to rise.
But the five clan heads and three Elders paused before leaving. They greeted the Moon of their tribe, the Chief of Lunar, as tradition dictated. Then, one by one, they turned to Silver.
"Narda Kabal of the Kabal Clan greets the Southern Young Moon," said Narda, bowing deeply."Lugh Patieq of the Patieq Clan greets the Southern Young Moon," followed Lugh with solemn respect."Bruda Jalaks of the Jalaks Warriors greets the Southern Young Moon," said Bruda, once Silver's mentor.
Kamal Hassim of the Hassim Clan and Jun Latips of the Latips Archer Clan also echoed the same greeting. The three Elders followed in unison, their voices ringing with respect.
The Southern Young Moon.
A title not given lightly. For a desert warrior to offer such recognition meant pledging their name, clan, and honor to that person's future. By giving him that title, the five great clans of the Lunar Tribe acknowledged Silver as the future King of the South.
Silver was momentarily speechless. He knew this tradition from books but had never expected to receive it himself. Slowly, he placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head.
"Selune'thar vel'kaan, ride well, warriors," he said in the ancient tongue of the desert.
The room echoed with pride. Silver knew from that moment onward, his words would carry weight, and one day, the lives of countless others. As he straightened his posture, his gaze drifted toward the map of the Southern Black Desert, the land he would one day unite.