Retreating eastward was the suggestion Al initially proposed to the Veling people. At the time, he stated:
Rather than slowly dragging families and belongings along a trail already infiltrated by Greenskin pirates, undergoing a long migration while facing the constant threat of being chased down, ambushed, and harassed by the enemy as they fled toward Demontrei.
It would be better to head directly east and flee into the nearby forest, where his tribe would receive them. The Piña Forest was rich in resources, and as long as the population capacity within a certain area wasn't exceeded by too much, it would be fine to sustain them for a long time.
The Veling Council had been noncommittal about this proposal before, but many secretly agreed with it.
The main concerns were twofold: First, venturing deep into the unfamiliar territory of the Piña Forest raised worries about the environment.
Second, whether the tribe was reliable. After all, up until now, humanity's understanding of this formidable ally—who looked nothing like those marginalized, third- or fourth-rate Beastmen, but rather a terrifying warrior race—was limited to the battlefield. They seemed to value contracts, much like Dwarfs, but were also extremely vindictive;
Propose an alliance, and they would rush over for days to provide aid; insult them, and they would immediately draw their swords, pointing their weapons at the very protectees they had just saved from the Greenskins' butcher blades.
They seemed easy enough to get along with, as long as you stroked their fur the right way...
Yeah, right!
When the time truly came to tear up the contract and flip the table, Al wouldn't hold back either.
Peace is a minor benevolence; the End Times is the ultimate righteous cause.
But with the arrival of bad news.
Al tossed the question of "If the tribe goes to rescue Magus, then the Veling people will have to figure out how to face the obstacles along the way north to Demontrei themselves" back to the Veling people to consider. He assisted from the sidelines. Ultimately, the conflicted Veling Council simply couldn't bear the guilt of "abandoning their neighbors and having their powerful ally escort them to run away."
Furthermore, a widespread distrust of the Estalian national army's strength was already trending among the refugees, and they strongly disagreed with the decision to undertake a long, arduous trek north to Demontrei, facing countless difficulties.
Compared to going to the distant north and likely repeating the process of "army defeated, city besieged, fallen, fleeing" all over again,
The Piña Forest, which was close at hand and protected by the powerful military might of their tribal allies, was clearly much more appealing.
Thus, the proposal to retreat east met no resistance; it was approved, communicated, and executed.
Even before the massive Greenskin horde marched north to besiege Veling, many people had already dragged their families and belongings to hide in the woodlands northeast of the city. It was only because the Greenskins advanced so quickly that nearly a hundred thousand people were trapped inside.
Before this, Al had proactively sent orders to Misha and his other scions, telling them to dispatch troops consisting mainly of common Beastmen, bringing supplies and heading southwest to prepare to receive the human refugees.
The four camps pioneered by the four scions, plus the main base left by Al—totaling five camps—would each take in a batch of refugees. The overall ratio of Beastmen to humans was to be maintained at around 1:2. For any excess, Al would consider establishing a few more branch camps.
During his time away, the Beastman tribe itself hadn't stopped sweeping the forest, capturing Chaos beasts (physically), converting them to bolster their population. Combined with the six thousand troops he brought on his expedition, the three thousand left to guard the base, and the eight thousand following the four scions to expand, the total population was rapidly approaching the thirty thousand mark.
For the Piña Forest, which wasn't particularly severely corrupted, the number and threat of Chaos beasts had plummeted several levels following the expansion of Al's tribe.
Strictly speaking, these foul beasts had quite a gap compared to the "Hooves of Ruin" from before the End Times. Lacking the influence and blessings of corruption, they struggled to produce Shamans and powerful Beastlords. Aside from their innate chaotic and evil nature, their combat strength was even significantly lower than the native beasts of Lustria.
Not long ago, just the day before Al marched west out of Veling, Misha and her three siblings joined forces to ambush a coalition of over a hundred Chaos beast tribes, big and small. These tribes had intended to defeat this unorthodox, expanding tribe that specifically targeted and slaughtered Chaos Beastmen, while also craving to know what the strange artifact that constantly attracted Beastmen truly was.
An allied force of over four thousand Chaos beasts was ambushed in a hilly region by an army of five thousand Four-God Beastmen led by Al's eldest daughter, Misha Theseus. The Shamans joined forces to unleash a massive spell, tearing the hills apart and turning the surrounding land into a mire.
The Sagegor mages bombarded the Chaos beasts with spells of various lores they naturally comprehended.
Subsequently, under the charge of Trolls, Bloodmother Minotaurs, and Khorngor Vanguards—led by the master of the Fourth Legion "Black Iron Warriors," Karen Al; the master of the Third Legion "Sons of Al," Simon Al; and their eldest sister, Misha herself—the Chaos beasts suffered a crushing defeat.
This battle resulted in nearly four thousand killed or captured. Combined with the subsequent relentless pursuit and sweeping of their dens, they captured over four thousand more Chaos beasts. Stripped bare and led like sheep, they were escorted back before the altars of the Four Goddesses to receive the glory (brainwashing) and conversion of the Four Mothers.
Becoming Four-God Beastmen, marching toward the great victory of the End Times under the guidance of the banners of the Four Goddesses and the command of Everchosen Al!
The development of the branch bases seemed to have yielded rich rewards so far. The power and operational range of Al's tribe now covered about a sixth or a seventh of the Piña Forest. Aside from the most formidable and terrifying kings of beasts among the monster species that needed to be warded against, there were no longer any factions within the entire forest that could pose a threat to the tribe.
If everything went smoothly, and even half of these roughly 150,000 Estalian refugees could be brought under Al's command, he could confidently join the massive wave currently tearing through the south, stirred up by the Greenskins, and fight for the biggest, most perfect prize.
Al walked on foot, surrounded by his bodyguards, strolling outside the city.
The centaur girl didn't like him sitting on any other mount. So far, only the Griffon was acceptable—perhaps because she was female, and everyone loved this majestic, noble, and inherently loyal beast—so Al was allowed to ride the Griffon girl into the sky.
When Al wasn't with the centaur girl or riding the Griffon, he usually strolled on foot, or had the Blessed Minotaur Commander carry the boy in her door-sized hands.
When the Everchosen's (Beastlord's) figure appeared in the camp, although the welcome wasn't as enthusiastic as the previous triumphant return ceremony, the refugees still cast grateful and respectful glances and greetings at Al.
People proactively cleared a path, taking off their hats and bowing to Al from both sides.
At this time, signs of families packing their bags for the great migration could already be seen in the refugee camp.
Although they had to move again after only a few days of peace, no one complained. Most of them had already boarded crowded ships just to survive, braving the harassment of pirate fleets and the pursuit of Greenskin bandits to cross oceans and wilderness, so they didn't care about this short journey.
However, some were full of curiosity about life in the forest. A young man squatting in front of a tent, tinkering with and repairing the wheel of a handcart, stood up and boldly asked when he saw Al strolling by:
"Y-Your Majesty of the tribe, what is in the forest?"
Al stopped and stood on his tiptoes, then realized this action lacked dignity, so he walked straight toward him instead.
The crowd naturally parted. The young man stood frozen in place, somewhat afraid.
"Trees, lots of trees. The trees you will see in your entire life from now on probably won't outnumber the ones you will see in the Piña Forest during this period."
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd; this was clearly a nonsense joke.
"Is there anything else?"
The young man looked at the boy's breastplate. Al wasn't wearing a helmet, only a half-mask for ease of movement.
"There are also all kinds of beasts, a variety so rich that even the
most astute hunter couldn't hunt them all in a lifetime."
"That's not necessarily true; the people of Veling excel at hunting!"
Another voice shouted from the back of the crowd.
Al turned his head and responded loudly: "Is that so!"
"Then when the time comes, you should compete with the warriors of the tribe to see who the better hunter is!"
"I hope everyone will hunt—that way we'll have endless meat to eat every day, every month. I hope you won't miss the taste of Estalian wheat too much by then."
"Thank you for helping us! May the Goddess bless us!"
The people shouted excitedly, reciting the Goddess's name to pray for Al and themselves.
Al nodded, thinking to himself:
She will, the Goddess will definitely bless us.