Chapter 722: Volume Twenty-one Dark Road - Eight Flanders Territory
"Slow down!" The not quite pure but clear enough Mountain Language halted the eager Barbarian Soldiers in their tracks; all eyes turned toward the central Warrior who had lowered his mask, a hint of surprise and hesitation flashing across their faces. The raised right hand of the Barbarian Soldier Chief finally lowered slowly, sliding the mask back up to the forehead of his helmet.
"Eh? You can speak our Mountain Language?! Who goes there? State your name, or else bear the consequences!" Though his hand was lowered, the Chief of the Barbarian Combat Team remained highly vigilant. Anyone brazen enough to appear in the heart of the Flanders Valley and with such a fearless stance surely had some significant backing. He didn’t dare to let his guard down, yet he was not willing to show any weakness.
"Oh, my identity is rather complex, and it can’t be fully explained in just a few words. However, one thing is clear—I wish to meet with the Garrison Leader in the Flanders Region. Could you tell me which Tribe of the Mountain People Alliance you belong to?" Komer maintained his composure, knowing he had already gained the upper hand in the confrontation, forcing the other party to hesitate before acting rashly, as a combat team was not the decision-maker in such affairs.
"You wish to meet our Chief?!" The tone became markedly harsher, clearly angered by Komer’s request, the flames of rage igniting in his eyes. The team leader snorted disdainfully from his nostrils: "Who do you think you are, and what makes you think you’re worthy of meeting our Chief?"
"I’m not a ’thing.’ Although I am a Mortal, I believe your Tribe Chief would show me the same respect," Komer responded coolly, "I have important matters that need to be communicated to your Garrison Leader in the Flanders Region, and onward to your Tribe Chief. These aren’t decisions you or your superior can make. Your only responsibility is to convey the message."
Agitated by Komer’s increasingly arrogant tone, yet unsettled by the nonchalant demeanor of Komer’s group, the team leader was filled with doubts. The visitors had penetrated deep into the heart of the Flanders Region, where escape would not be easy; their manner did not seem frivolous, and their comportment was unlike that of any Mortals he had encountered before. This uncertainty made the leader somewhat indecisive.