Al traveled in incognito, "the white dragon in commoner's robes," casting a spell to lower his presence so others wouldn't notice him.
He brought no guards, wandering alone—the Griffon Empress circled in the sky above with her kin, who now made up a massive portion of the tribal monster corps.
It looked like they were merely frolicking, but in reality, the Griffon-mother shared a close bond with Al.
Unless he specifically blocked her out, she could sense his location in real-time, ready to dive for a rescue at any moment.
As mentioned in previous chapters, Al was a man who valued filial piety above all else.
Honoring one mother wasn't enough for him; he found several more "moms" to serve.
Even for his stepmother, Lileath, he performed his duties as if she were his biological mother.
In the future, if possible, Al even considered using the chain of "Asuryan → Daughter/Wife Lileath → Filial Son Al" to deepen his connection with the Elves.
He might even take it a step further.
Since my mom is Lileath, and Lileath's father-god is Asuryan the Phoenix King, Al could, by rounding up, call Asuryan "Imperial Grandfather."
"I am a pure-blooded member of the High Elven Phoenix Banner!"
"Al has a strong claim to the Throne of the Phoenix King!"
"I'm bringing my family (the hundred-thousand-strong tribal army) for an armed pilgrimage to the Temple of Asuryan to see my Imperial Grandfather. We're just passing through Lothern. Why are you stopping me? The Citizens' Council is full of rebels, and the Elven orthodoxy is teetering; I'm raising an army to clear the court of traitors!"
Such is his brand of filial piety.
Pure and simple.
Take the Griffon-mother, for instance. Al invited her home when she was still raising her cubs, and he's been riding her ever since.
He even used to nap in the same spot with the litter of griffon chicks—the only thing missing was sharing the same milk.
Leave it to the Sagegors to write the history books, setting aside his other titles.
At the very least, it would be: "The Griffon raised the foundling youth—the Griffon is one of the three holy symbols of the Empire. This proves Al is destined by fate, appointed by Sigmar, a dragon among men, bound to enter the Imperial Court of Altdorf."
Now, through long-term close contact and the infusion of Al's purest, deepest Chaos power, the widowed Griffon-mother—once a single mom struggling to raise a brood—had soared to new heights.
She had become an existence that surpassed her mortal kin in both power and life-tier.
Legend says griffons themselves were born of Chaos power—or rather, most monsters in this world were creations or mutations of Chaos. This was practically a bloodline regression.
From this, one could see Al's deep regard for those who had given him the "grace of riding and raising" (in the stories), let alone his adoptive mother with whom he shared carnal intimacy or the little Goat Mom who gave him the grace of nursing.
And, of course, the Madam who shared both the bed and the nursing...
After all, he intended to be the "Little Sun" of the mortal world, the ultimate filial son of the Old World.
If he couldn't surpass others in every aspect, especially filial piety, how could he lead by example?
How could he establish his core principle: "Behold my tribe, where the world is governed through filial piety!"?
Tribal barbarians didn't care for refined rites—things like "levirate marriage" were outdated customs.
The Estalians were proud and pugnacious, yet cowards in open war, preferring illicit affairs and one-night stands.
But now is the era of Al's Reign!
Things like being entangled with his adoptive mother or wet nurse, brothers peeking at sisters-in-law, or elders coveting the young...
The weak dominating the strong, or the small controlling the great—Al detested such things.
It was evil, very evil, so he had to be the only one allowed to do it. (Not really).
Of course, when others did it, it was undeniably moral decay and a collapse of social values.
While there might not be iron-fisted punishment, it certainly didn't sound good.
In the old Empire to the north, such filth was rampant and even performed quite openly.
"Slave-girl factories," "slave castles," and "unclothed banquets" were enough to make one scream, "God-Emperor above!"
Incestuous family passions and mistress culture were booming. From the Imperial Court to the wealthy estates, down to middle-class homes...
They had been suppressed by feudal rites (the Church of Sigmar) for ages, under the banner of preventing Chaos corruption.
These desires finally erupted like a geyser after the "Reik Edict" in the 28th year of the reconstruction following the victory of the Great War.
We shall leave that aside for now.
Al was very wary of such things. If you enjoy yourself today, tomorrow the Chaos Imperial Army will arrive with a one-way ticket to the Palace of Ecstasy ready for you.
He led by example, constantly facing the danger of corruption on the front lines.
Like a Mahatma of the "lying flat" world, he tested and honed his will by staying close to desire, yet remaining unshakeable and uncorrupted.
Al was the night watchman of the tribe's moral floor, a living saint governing through filial piety.
This merit was immense. The Four Mothers didn't even need to send a dream to pat his shoulder and say: [You handle things, we are at ease.]
In the future, delegating all authority and affairs to him felt a bit like mistreating a meritorious official.
But Al was a filial son; he wouldn't complain about his mothers. For now, this was fine.
After all, he couldn't add more burden to Misha, or a lot of things would get messy if the cow-girl went on strike.
Al specifically chose crowded areas to stroll through, stopping to watch any excitement along the way, thoroughly enjoying himself.
He inspected the living standards of his subjects by observing the appearances and figures of the young ladies.
It was a unique kind of "livelihood index."
Regrettably, the quality of Al's current harem was already at the top tier.
While the maid corps was slightly less dazzling individually, they had the "group bond" bonus.
Other members each had their own merits. Al wandered for a while but saw no one who could rival the centaur girl or the Paladin.
Though there were plenty of pretty sisters around, Al wasn't picky; he wouldn't dislike home cooking just because he'd had a feast.
He was merely horny, not a stud stallion. There were too many beautiful people in the world.
Was Al supposed to take every single one he met into his harem?
He couldn't handle that kind of workload...
He limited himself to eye candy. He'd praise a pretty sister in his head, then forget her.
If she were truly exceptional, he'd look a few more times before moving on.
Streets, markets, shops—all essential for a city or settlement.
They symbolized that the region's functions were fully operational.
There were semi-official general stores established through Misha and Al's discussions, and privately funded shops.
A specific area was designated for trade and commerce.
Al even saw mobile and fixed food stalls. Though cut off from the outside world, the Piña Forest was becoming a magical wood where foraging and hunting could support a huge population. Materials were everywhere.
Al observed that at Estalian stalls, the Kingdom's currency was still in circulation.
However, the Beastmen didn't care for human trinkets, preferring a bartering system, which was quite troublesome.
Al had plenty of gold coins and shields in his treasury—modest "handling fees" earned during the migration of the three cities.
The Northern Council had also sent resources three times, each with a batch of funds, likely intended for military pay.
Unfortunately, the tribe's systems were too primitive to really use them.
Overall, the atmosphere was one of thriving, vibrant growth.