Chapter 3989: Traitors and Cowards (Part 2)

"Long-lasting magical formations have no value without a mana geyser to set them up, and can’t be snatched without anyone noticing.

"Also, defensive arrays are not something anyone would dare sell. They are the heart and soul of every tribe, and revealing them to outsiders is a taboo even for the most bloodthirsty bandits. Anyone who tries selling them would be marked as a traitor and killed.

"Don’t get me wrong, the enemy tribes would pay a hefty sum to learn about the weak points of their neighbor’s defensive arrays to conquer another oasis. Yet they would also kill the traitor mage because they know that if they don’t, they could be next."

"I see." Tista nodded. "So, it’s not the Overlord’s fault."

"Why do you keep calling her Overlord?" Sinmara glared at Tista. "Are you-"

"Of course it’s her fault!" Saron couldn’t hold back anymore. "No matter how pretty the Usurper makes herself out to be, she’s just a giant, murderous bird. She has no need for land, oases, or books. She just likes to see us humans squirm!

"If she really cared about the Blood Desert, she would have left it to us, the real people of the Desert, after driving away the bastards who stole our land. Instead, she took it for herself, just as she did with the magical knowledge of our ancestors that she reclaimed.

"The Usurper is a thief and a murderer, and is responsible for today’s massacre no less than the Yellow Wind tribe. If not for her-"

"You would have never been born." Sinmara cut him short. "I was there when my mother decided to follow in King Valeron’s footsteps and unify the Blood Desert. The country was torn apart by countless wars and its territories encroached upon from every side by its neighbors.

"The average lifespan of people like you was less than thirty years. Everyone old enough to wield a weapon was sent to the front lines, and from that moment, the only variables were when you would die and who would kill you.

"Funny enough, the invaders never bothered to chase after the tribes of the Desert. They repelled your attacks and waited for you to do their job for them. The more they advanced, the fewer resources the Desert tribes had left, and the more they turned against each other.

"According to Mother’s estimates, it wouldn’t have taken more than twenty years for the Desert tribes to either submit or go extinct. It was then that Mother appeared in the middle of the battlefield and gave your ancestors a choice.

"Follow her against your common enemy or keep killing your own kin in a senseless slaughter. She led the united tribes of the Desert, reclaiming one oasis at a time until the Blood Desert was whole again and its borders secure.

"That’s when the problems started, Tista." Sinmara stared at her distant niece. "There are only two kinds of people who call themselves ’free tribes’ today. Those who fought by Mother’s side, but reneged their vow of loyalty after the victory.

"They are betrayers, but Mother still respected them because they shed their blood for her, so she let them go. Then, there are those who refused her call to arms. They didn’t expect her to win.

"Only to weaken our enemies and cause the death of enough members of the other tribes to leave them all the space and resources they needed. They are twice cowards because they not only didn’t move a finger while the world around them burned.

"They also dared demand their share once the war ended. Mother came back from the battlefield just to find the best oases occupied by those cowards. They claimed the land as their own since they had ’protected’ it while everyone was away.

"They also refused to recognize Mother’s authority on the basis that they had never agreed to her terms and owed her nothing."

"That’s beyond being ungrateful! That’s disgusting!" Tista said, and Saron’s sudden pallor told her the Black Stork belonged to the cowards.

"Indeed." Sinmara nodded. "Mother agreed with them and dealt with them just like she did with the foreign invaders. She never respected the cowardly tribes, but let them go once they surrendered anyway.

"The blood of the Desert is precious few, and too much of it had been shed already. Mother couldn’t bear the thought that the opening act of her new era of peace would be more fratricide.

"This brings us to a single question, little man. Who are you? A descendant of traitors or cowards?" Everyone inside the field hospital already knew the answer, but Sinmara asked it nonetheless.

She wanted to humiliate Saron thoroughly and teach a lesson about respect to all the people of the Black Stork tribe and Tista. The Phoenix of Darkness hadn’t liked how the young Hekate had hidden her kinship with Salaark.

In her eyes, Tista was a coward as well for caring more about the opinion of a bunch of strangers than the feelings of her own grandmother.

"Enough!" Tista stood in front of Saron, blocking Sinmara’s gaze and grabbing her wrist. ’Stop pressuring him, or he’ll have a heart attack. Can’t you see how weak he is?’

The sudden mind link surprised the Phoenix of Darkness, but not as much as the truth in Tista’s words. Only after she calmed down enough to look around with Life Vision did she notice how dire the condition of the refugees was.

The strongest among them had a life force as bright as candlelight, while that of Saron and a few others flickered with each shallow breath they took.

’I’m sorry, Little Sister.’ Sinmara said. ’When I heard the old coot badmouthing my mother, I lost my temper.’

’I know how you feel.’ Tista replied. ’Yet no matter how obnoxious they are, these people are my patients, and I took an oath when I became a Healer. I won’t let anything bad happen to them while they are under my care, even if it means biting my tongue a bit.’

"I’ll leave you guys at it, then." Sinmara nodded. "If you need more food or water, please let me know."

She turned around and left, making those who had regained their consciousness sigh in relief. Saron’s heart stopped drumming in his chest and his life force flickering, but his self-righteous anger was gone, and so was his strength.

"Thank you for protecting me from that monster, young lady." He said, and Tista needed sheer willpower to keep her expression neutral. "Now I’m tired, though, and I need to sleep."

"Are you sure?" She asked with a warm smile on her face. "You heard Lady Sinmara. We have prepared a light meal for you."

Two merfolk brought a large cauldron of vegetable broth inside the tent. It was a typical dish of the Blood Desert to help those who had endured a long journey to recover.

The smell of the broth wafted through the field tent, arousing the refugees’ survival instinct and waking them from their slumber despite the little energy that most of them had left after recovering from such grievous wounds.

The Healers handed a serving of soup to each patient, assigning a merfolk to those refugees who were still too weak to eat on their own.

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