"Thinking back to the beginning, when I led the remnants into Piña, our population was less than a thousand, and our capable warriors numbered but a few hundred. The men were exhausted, the steeds fatigued (the centaur girl blinked), and morale was at rock bottom. The people faced imminent disaster, and the tribe was on the brink of collapse."
Al stood on the muster field. His scions stood before him in two rows. The second batch of rapidly-grown Sons of Al had already taken on the appearance of adolescents, formed into a separate column alongside the ranks of the Khorngors.
The little father paced back and forth, muttering words that sounded slightly obscure and difficult to understand, "Fortunately, the heavens did not abandon our tribe! The Four Mothers bestowed their blessings upon Piña, and together we slashed through the thorns to rebuild our foundation!"
"Now, our steeds are plump and our men are robust (the centaur girl blinked again), and our weapons and armor are razor-sharp!" Al's strides grew faster, his expression increasingly agitated, "The timing and the terrain are all in my—ouch!"
The boy cried out in pain, and his eldest daughter was the first to react, rushing over.
"Generals, do not panic!"
The Everchosen waved his hands repeatedly and stuck out his tongue.
He had bitten it.
"Ahem." He pulled his tongue back and pursed his lips, a flush of red creeping up his pale neck.
"As the eldest of my scions, the time has come for you to follow your husb... your father, the time has come to follow your father in expanding our territory."
That was close, it almost turned into some degenerate hentai plot.
Why does Misha look so disappointed?
Eh, it's gone. Must have been my imagination.
Al cleared his throat and continued, "The four of you will each lead a thousand soldiers and civilians to expand towards the southwest. I will split off a piece of the Genesis Herdstone for you to take with you."
"Take in more people, gather intelligence, and make ample preparations for when our forces march out of Piña to clash with the Greenskins and the humans."
"Father, we still hope to continue receiving your teachings (No, Father! We are still young, and we hope to spend more days by your side)."
Al, already hopelessly immersed in his own delusions, feigned anger and scolded:
"Why act like such whiny little children! You are strong and robust, even more so than your father (You are all grown up, you're even taller than me), and a man's ambition is not measured by his age. The End Times are approaching; regardless of old or young, we must all strive forward for our great cause!"
"In the future, when the situation is settled and the tribe is secure, there will naturally be time to gather around my knees and enjoy family bliss. Go now, go!"
The scions looked at each other in dismay, unsure of how to reply.
Al flew into a rage: "My orders have been given! Anyone who disobeys will end up like this! Like this! Like..."
The Everchosen looked around. He had nothing in his hands, nor could he find anything to snap in half. So he took a few steps over to the fully armed, murderous-looking centaur girl and grabbed her Heaven-Scorching Halberd with both hands.
"..."
This thing is a bit heavy.
The centaur girl let go, and Al gripped the long halberd tightly with both hands, cursing internally.
Unable to watch this any longer, the centaur girl grabbed the Grim Love armor, lifted Al up, and expertly placed him back onto her back.
"Speak properly."
The centaur girl's words carried a hint of seriousness. Al's body trembled slightly, and he swallowed hard.
"You guys take the manpower and go out to pioneer, continue developing, and accumulate strength. The Greenskins have already crossed the river, and the humans are looking a bit shaky. I'm going to take advantage of the chaos to carve out a territory—I mean, protect our borders and secure peace for the people."
"Expand our living space a bit. When the opportunity arises, the whole family will march out of the forest and penetrate the gates of those Estalian merchants!" Whenever he brought this up, Al couldn't help but grit his teeth.
Suddenly, his tone shifted and grew heavy: "You are all my scions... but you are not just my children alone! You are the strongest and smartest of your kind, blessed warriors flowing with my blood and the divine favor upon me."
The scions then knelt on one knee before the centaur girl and Al, showing their loyalty to their genetic father and the blessings of the Four Mothers.
"I crown you with my name—the Sons of Al. You are born with innate blessings, far surpassing your kin."
"You are the extensions of my will and my power!"
"You shall receive the worship and love of the people!"
"You were nurtured in the wombs of your respective mothers and brought into this world!"
"Therefore, you rightfully bear greater responsibilities and convictions!"
"My children!"
Al shouted, and the scions responded in unison:
"We are here!"
"Where is my legion!"
The entire area that used to be the muster field was now densely packed with the Khorngor Legion. Leaning on their weapons, they all dropped to one knee in unison.
"We are here!"
"Where are my people!"
The perimeter of the muster field had been torn down. The Beastmen tribesfolk, dragging their families along, gathered outside the field. Without hesitation, just like the scions and the army, they knelt towards the Everchosen, reaffirming their loyal submission.
"We are here!"
Al gently squeezed the mare's flanks. He and Alina were already thoroughly familiar with each other's bodies and even the slightest movements. Holding the long halberd upside down, she began to trot around the camp.
"We come from the past—many of you perhaps have no memories of it, for most of you were freed from ignorance and the filth of the old days because of the blessings bestowed by the Four Mothers."
A chorus praising "By the grace of the Four Mothers" rang out, and Al continued loudly:
"But I must tell you: blessings alone cannot open the door to eternal salvation!"
"Yet above the mortal realm, the End Times draw near! Like a child in the womb, it has matured and awaits only the moment of its birth!"
The Beastmen let out another wave of prayers, "By the grace of the Four Mothers, save us."
Riding Alina, Al stood between the army and the tribesfolk, his voice thundering over the beasts:
"The path to salvation lies only in our hands, on the road I lead you to walk!"
"I shall swallow the nations and unify the races; within the forests, atop the mountains, and at the ports of the earth, I will build cities of harmony! All my people shall dwell within them in peace, untouched by natural disasters, unharmed by the ravages of war!"
"In the name of the New Four Gods, I shall rule all peoples; warriors of every race shall join my banner to defend the stability of the mortal realm together!"
"This is my death oath, sworn upon the name of Al! I stand with you, and we shall never turn our backs on each other!"
"For one lifetime, two lifetimes, three lifetimes, steadfast for ten thousand generations!"
Sounds of weeping continuously rose from the herd. Everyone reached out desperately toward Al. The Everchosen, riding atop the centaur girl, circled the field so that all the tribesfolk could clearly see him with their own eyes.
"Today, we detach eight thousand. Organized by families into four divisions, each division with a thousand soldiers and a thousand civilians, totaling eight thousand people. You will follow my scions to continue pushing west and expand our foundation."
"The remaining nine thousand soldiers and civilians will be split: three thousand will stay to guard the tribe's base, and six thousand will follow me, marching south out of Piña!"
"Are there any objections?"
The centaur girl carried Al on a patrol, and wherever their gaze fell, the sounds of submission and prayer were endless.
The centaur was the Champion of the Gods, and Al was practically a walking avatar of the deities. With their prestige and achievements, naturally, no one would have any objections.
Not even a suggestion.
Because no one would ever think their own ideas were better than those of the Everchosen.
"Then, I designate the eldest of my scions: Misha Theseus, as the First Legion!"
"Named the 'Angels of the Four Gods'!"
"Simon Al, as the Second Legion, named the 'Mortal Watch'!"
"Wind Al, as the Third Legion, named the 'Sons of Al'!"
"Karen Al, the Fourth Legion, named the 'Black Iron Warriors'!"
"The rest of the scions shall either flank their father's main force or follow their sisters and brothers to expand west. When the time comes, our armies shall march out of Piña and unite as one!"
The Sagegors held their scriptures, holding the holy relics of the gods high, sprinkling blessings over the legions and the crowd.
The most outstanding individuals among the four original scions silently and solemnly divided into four columns. They were about to loyally execute their little father's will.
"This marks the First Founding. In the future, should there be outstanding individuals among the scions and the tribe, we shall establish the fifth, sixth, and seventh legions in sequence, continuing to build our foundation and await the End Times!"