Al stuck the flower into a crack by the edge of the square, simultaneously uprooting the weeds, wondering if it would continue to grow.
He clapped his hands and stood up.
"So?"
He asked again. The mayor was sweating profusely, while the gentry looked at each other in sheer, uncomfortable silence.
After another brief moment, the mayor stammered, "M-my... my Lord..."
"Samana is... is under the jurisdiction of Veling, territory of the Kingdom of Estalia... To thank you for your aid, I am certain the city council will offer a reward no less than an entire fiefdom!"
Al let out a loud laugh and asked,
"Are there... cough, never mind, it will be quick."
"Once the Greenskins destroy Magritta and sweep north through the remaining cities, the Kingdom of Estalia will cease to exist very soon."
"Ah... this!"
The mayor was horrified.
The local gentry were also sweating bullets.
The Griffon girl impatiently flared her wings. Al quickly reached out to scratch her chin to soothe her, speaking without even looking up:
"Just a joke... With me here, Estalia will not fall!"
"My people have lived in Piña for generations..."
Thinking about it for a second, he decided it was better to be serious. He shouldn't cosplay or spout internet memes to outsiders, so Al changed his rhetoric.
"My tribe has always lived in the Piña Forest, with little to no contact with the outside world. We worship the Goddess (he didn't specify which ones) and the All-Father."
"Not long ago, a group of human adventurers got lost in the forest. After we saved them, they told us about the situation outside, and that's how we learned a massive Greenskin army had crossed the sea to invade Estalia."
"This land is a place where both my tribe and humanity co-exist. We have lived in mutual non-aggression for generations. But those Greenskin bastards only know how to destroy everything, so I made a decision..." Al looked at the mayor and the others, his voice turning righteous and stern.
"To lead the warriors of my tribe out of Piña to aid the human kingdoms."
The mayor's eyes widened, his pupils dilating, his lips trembling.
"T-thank... thank you for your aid!"
The prominent figures and gentry reacted as if they had just witnessed the Goddess's salvation, offering all kinds of praise, moved beyond words.
"The Estalians will forever remember your most sincere help in our time of disaster!"
"Praise the Goddess, praise the Goddess, She has delivered salvation to our side..."
"..."
The atmosphere instantly became harmonious and joyful.
Of course, Al wasn't really here to do charity and help the Estalians survive their apocalypse.
Since when do outcasts play the good neighbor?
Saving the nation? Like it was his turn to do that?
Al was merely borrowing wisdom from his predecessors. It was all about:
"Having a righteous cause!"
After Vlad von Carstein married Isabella, even during the End Times he never forgot his status as an Elector Count; the Witch King Malekith's obsession with the Phoenix Throne of Lothern entangled the Elven race for millennia, until he finally gained the acknowledgment of the AFK God-King Asuryan; King Belegar Ironhammer of Eight Peaks used the title of the orthodox royal bloodline to rally support everywhere, even getting the High King to personally step in to help him retake Eight Peaks.
The Monkey King of Eastern Cathay trying to usurp power and getting smashed by the Five Dragons was a classic negative example.
You aren't even a Dragon, and you dare march on the capital?
Even looking back to the 17th century on distant Earth, the Great Qing Dynasty.
When the barbarians entered the gates, they did so under the banner of avenging the former emperor (shrewd tears), winning over the hearts of the people (shock and awe).
Directly occupying the land and saying "this place belongs to the Great Warchief now" was too ugly of a look. It would easily get him branded as a third-party invader alongside the Greenskins, leading to him getting attacked by both sides.
If all else failed, Al could retreat back to Piña and fight a jungle guerrilla war. But letting such a great opportunity slip by would be a massive waste, and such a chance would be hard to come by again. Was he really going to have to take his tribe and run to the Badlands?
So, at least in name, there had to be a somewhat plausible reason, an excuse to fool people.
Even if it was completely fabricated.
It could be fake, but it had to exist.
"The men of our tribe, though skilled and brave in battle, do not engage in production."
"Look at their size. Three of them can eat an entire Greenskin Warboar in a single day. In the forest, they could barely fill their bellies through hunting. But leaving the forest, just the logistics and supplies are a massive problem..."
"We'll pay! We will supply it!"
The mayor and the gentry shouted excitedly. They had to pay to hire mercenaries anyway. If they could bring in such a formidable legion just by providing food, the city of Veling would absolutely not be stingy.
Al naturally knew exactly what kind of beautiful dreams these people were having, and he certainly wasn't here to run a charity.
"Of course, there are also the expenses of entering the human world... the maintenance costs of the tribe... with the men out fighting, it's too dangerous to leave the women and children behind in the forest, so they need to be relocated as well..."
As he listed the items one by one, the excitement gradually faded from the faces of the mayor and the others.
"Therefore, we need a stable rear and a garrison, a place to settle our kin and rest our army."
"Samana is quite nice. It's right next to Piña, close to both the city and the forest."
"For the time being, this town will be allocated to our tribe as a garrison. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Al laid down his terms, and for a moment, no one dared to answer.
"N-no problem!"
It was the mayor who mustered the courage to take responsibility, gritting his teeth and agreeing. Had it not been for this army—who called themselves Beastmen but looked nothing like the simple-minded All-Father worshippers of their impressions—Samana would have been wiped out in an instant. Now that the other party had shown goodwill, while holding overwhelming military power capable of flipping the table at any moment, the Samanans practically had only one choice.
Al took a few steps forward and gave the mayor—who was stunned by the sudden movement—a hug, then stepped back.
"Quickly, send your people to Veling to deliver the message. Have their envoys come here to negotiate—I believe an unbreakable alliance will be formed between the tribe and the Kingdom to jointly fight the savage threat!"
The mayor was bewildered by the gesture but quickly snapped out of it, shivering as he repeatedly nodded in agreement.
Beneath his helmet, Al's smile never faded.
The feeling of manipulating and playing with people was truly excellent.
Ever since coming to this world, Al had constantly been toyed with by the Four Gods. Even around the centaur girl, he was mostly the passive one. The goat mothers were too gentle, and the tribesmen were blindly loyal, so he could never experience this kind of feeling.
Now that he tried it, it really wasn't bad at all.
"You can let the residents go back to their homes. My tribe will stay outside the town for now. If you have workers and craftsmen, you can send them over to help build a temporary camp."
"Oh right, one more thing."
He stopped the mayor, who was nodding continuously while backing away.
"Find, um..." Al pursed his lips in thought, spreading his left hand and holding it up, "Find five families, the kind where both spouses are present and they have children. Bring them here."
The mayor was a bit confused, unsure of what the Beastlord wanted to do.
Al grinned, his eyes narrowing.
He held grudges.
"I have some questions to ask them. It will be very quick, I promise."
He hated being deceived, especially if it was by the targets he thought he was manipulating.
"I want to understand human families, lifestyles, and all sorts of aspects. It will be beneficial for us getting along with each other, won't it?"