When Leo and his group walked down the small peak and reached the outskirts of the village, quite a few people had already gathered outside the village entrance.
Apparently, some Wild Folk Hunters hiding in the dark had informed the village in advance.
Leading the group was an old man wearing a deer antler headdress and a colorful feathered cape.
On his face and exposed chest, his dark skin was covered with numerous battle tattoos.
With the spread of the empire's culture, tattoos were gradually regarded as the customs of barbarians. People in the Northern Region rarely got tattoos on prominent parts such as their faces and the backs of their hands.
Even some Northern Region nobles who adhered to traditions would only have their family battle tattoos on their backs or chests. However, more often than not, like people in the South, they would have them on their gowns and flags.
If it weren't for the residual soul of the original owner, Leo, just by looking at the old man's wrinkled face and grizzled hair, Leo would definitely have thought he was in his seventies or eighties.
But the experience of the original owner told him that an old man like this was actually only in his fifties.
Just like Ulyan, a foot-picking old man. His actual age was not even forty.
But in the wilderness, fifty was already a respectable age. This not only meant that he had a noble status and could ensure his survival even in old age, but also meant that he was strong enough in his youth. After countless battles, he didn't have any serious disabilities.
Apart from him, most of the people who came to greet Leo and his group were the elderly, the weak, women, and children.
On the rooftops, stone walls, watchtowers and other vantage points of the village, Wild Folk Hunters with longbows were standing far apart.
These Wild Folk Hunters were all tall, strong, and burly, sporting beards, thick and curly body hair, and their faces painted with mud colors.
They wore wolf or bear head helmets, thick fur armors, and adorned themselves with animal bones, sharp teeth, and claws. Fully armed, they exuded an aura of fierceness, combat prowess, and wildness.
Leo had heard from Ulyan that many Wild Folk tribes still adhered to the ancient coming-of-age ceremony in the Northern Region. They would drive their newly grown children into the wilderness.
These Wild Folk ate raw meat and drank blood, living like wild beasts until they were completely adapted to the wilderness and hunted powerful enough beasts to demonstrate their bravery before they were qualified to return home.
Every adult Wild Folk Hunter was an outstanding warrior tempered in the cruel wilderness.
Even in a one-on-one close combat, Leo didn't dare to say that he would surely win. If it were a jungle guerrilla battle, he might be shot full of holes in minutes.
The original owner, Leo, had also practiced archery. But the bows and arrows he usually used were all self-made soft bows of dozens of pounds. They had a short range and weak power, and could only be used to hunt rabbits and small deer.
As for wolves and bears, the former would be alerted before entering the range, and the latter had thick skin and tough flesh. A small hunting bow couldn't seriously wound it at all.
It wasn't that he didn't want to use a heavy-duty hunting bow. Without qualified bow-making techniques and relying solely on his own exploration, if he forced to make a high-poundage hunting bow, it would either break easily or lose its accuracy and could only be used as a toy.
And the yew longbows of the Wild Folk Hunters were all heavy-duty strong bows close to two hundred pounds, capable of shooting a brown bear dead from dozens of meters away.
An ordinary person who has not received training can't even draw the bowstring, and it's strenuous to just hold the longbow horizontally with one arm and pose!
Unless necessary, Leo would never want to be an enemy of the Wild Folk.
"Hello, respected elder." Leo stepped forward briskly to greet the villagers. Without putting on any airs, he bowed first and said respectfully.
His humble gesture caught the old man on the opposite side off guard for a moment, leaving him stunned.
In the minds of the Wild Folk, the empire's pioneer territories were indistinguishable from alien tribes. They all seized land through military conquest, expelling or enslaving other ethnic groups.
For this meeting, he had specifically summoned all the hunters, aiming to showcase the tribe's military might and warn this outsider that they were not to be trifled with.
As he had predicted, the messenger or spy from the empire standing before him would surely make some arrogant territorial declarations, or even compel the village to pay taxes or perform forced labor.
As an old man who had lived for half a century, he had witnessed with his own eyes the gradual growth of the imperial town of Isonpol. The surplus population gradually spilled into the wilderness, and one colonization knight fief after another was established at the foot of the mountain.
In just fifty years, there were at least ten more pioneer territories on both sides of the Anzerno River, west of Isonpol.
Of course, they had also resisted. Over twenty years ago, the Wild Folk had repeatedly rallied hunters from several tribes to loot and burn those newly founded villages, logging yards, and mines.
But the consequence was to draw the suppression of the Frolov family knight order. Led by powerful awakened knights, the imperial elite infantry, fully equipped and armed to the teeth, and the mercenary regiments with rich combat experience poured into the wilderness, laying waste to the Wild Folk tribes and driving the surviving Wild Folk deeper into the mountains.
Now they had taken refuge in this basin, with the Grand Barrier and the big waterfall at their backs. There was nowhere left to retreat.
When the bonfire in the River Bend Settlement Camp was first kindled, the young Wild Folk Hunters in the tribe had also suggested a surprise attack to scare off these outsiders.
This thought was identical to what he had when he was young. But whenever the old man stood on the dwarf peak and saw the cooking smoke billowing closer at the foot of the mountain, he would think that the outcome would likely be the same as before.
Violence could address immediate needs, but it was by no means a long-term fix.
The old man, who adhered to the way of the druid and was becoming increasingly adept at thinking, thought so.
"You are well too, my child."
Leo's attitude determined the old man's. Seeing this, the old man also flashed a kind smile and replied gently.
Not bad. For the first interaction, at least they greeted each other with smiles.
Leo felt a little more relaxed. He opened the wooden box he had been lugging around and said, "These are gifts from our headman."
The leaders of villages and tribes in the Northern Region were all called "headman" or "elder".
Titles such as "lord", "knight", "noble sir" were all southern customs. To the Wild Folk, they were synonymous with enemies.
Referring to their leader as a headman sounded much more agreeable to the Wild Folk.
Inside the wooden box were clearly two steel swords wrapped in linen cloth soaked in grease. They were exactly the batch presented by Knight Romon.
This type of single-handed steel sword forged in large southern workshops was a century ahead of the Northern Region in craftsmanship. Not even the Wild Folk tribes, let alone the blacksmiths in Isonpol, might be able to forge them.
"Good swords! Great gifts!" The old man picked up a steel sword, flicked the blade, and praised repeatedly, fully expressing his love for the gifts. After putting on a good show, he asked someone to take them.
In the North Region, there is no custom of declining gifts, for there will surely be an appropriate return gift. For a moment, the old man was only worried about not being able to find a suitable gift in return.
After chatting with Leo for a few words, the Wild Folk Elder named Zurvan finally turned his gaze to Freya beside him.
Only to see that his originally kind and amiable face grew solemn. He adjusted his feathered cape and deer - antler headdress. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, he bowed to Freya, performing a strange ritual filled with ancient dignity, and said respectfully, "Master Freya!"