Hutt Caron is a centaur, or more precisely, the leader of a small centaur clan.

His clan had been a child of the Orc Kingdom, and they lived a prosperous life, with all the glory that a prince of the kingdom should have. At its peak, it had nearly 100 adult warriors, controlled the rich pastures, and was proud to be a citizen of a civilized country.

But disasters always come inadvertently, and inadvertently getting involved in the internal struggle of the kingdom is a mortal danger for a small clan. So overnight, the whole family became a wanted fugitive.

When the heavily armed pursuers arrived, they could not resist at all, and all they could do was flee, flee desperately.

In order to survive, they embark on an extremely difficult journey to survive, leaving their former homeland behind and joining bandits in the wilderness.

It was not easy to gain a foothold in a lawless land full of strife, and even the combative centaurs almost shed their blood in the process, losing more than half of their population in half a year in endless melee.

The rest of the people have been recognized by the indigenous people, they have survived, they have been given the right to live, which is good. But Hurt himself often tosses and turns at night, unable to sleep.

He was well aware that his clan was different from the semi-obscurantist natives around him.

They know rituals, pay homage to their ancestors, master the calendar, sow rye seeds in the spring for the autumn harvest, and recite songs that have been sung for centuries in unison when the first snow falls.

They understood many things that would not have been possible for natives who would have followed their instincts, and all of this made Hurt both proud and sad.

Because if we continue to breed here from generation to generation, the newborn children will inevitably become no different from the natives.

A small tribe cannot carry anything other than "foraging", let alone such luxuries as "knowledge" and "wisdom". Only countries, only countries that are large enough, have that capacity.

For the sake of the future of the clan, Hurt is determined to lead his people into a real nation.

Of course, the Orc Kingdom can't go back, but the Pompeii Empire, which is close at hand, is also a good choice. It was even more prosperous and rich than the Orc Kingdom, with a well-developed art, scholarship, and crafts that perfectly matched all his dreams.

The only problem is that Pompeii is a human nation and will not easily accept centaurs into the ......

All Hurt can do is be patient and wait for the right moment to come.

And that day came quickly - the natives of different tribes had recently been planning a joint armed operation, and as part of the recognized wilderness, the Centaur Clan was invited and learned of the full cause.

That's the opportunity Hurt's waiting for!

......

The centaurs watched as powerful arrows streaked across the sky, plunging deep into the ground with the power of a meteorite falling to the ground. It took them a great deal of effort to dig out the throwing spear, and the powerful collision had twisted the tip of the metal spear into a twist.

The most eye-catching of them all insisted that it was a throwing spear thrown by a human warrior with his bare hands. The more sophisticated centaurs, on the other hand, were completely unacceptable, believing that they should be fired from heavy bed crossbows.

Hutt understood full well that this was a demonstration and a warning, so he ordered his people to raise the white flag and move on. The vigilant human warriors on the hill did not attack, and let them walk fifty paces away.

This distance is already within the range of most ranged weapons, and it can't get any closer anyway.

"Explain your intentions!"

Richard couldn't figure out how Gunther recognized the rag as a white flag. But judging by the centaur's demeanor, it was.

"I am Hett, the patriarch of the Windwind Clan, and I have come here with good intentions. Hurt touched his chest with one hand and bowed.

Centaurs are supposed to be closely related to each other, with identical short brown hair and long and powerful limbs, no less than a high-class war horse. Their human parts are also remarkably strong, their arms are extraordinarily slender, and their overall height is about two blades and three blades, and their bodies are full of a smooth sense of strength.

Their clothing is old, but neat and clean, unique to centaurs—the front hem sags down to the base of the front legs, and the back hem is slightly elongated to cover half of the back.

And they also carry weapons similar to heavy cavalry scimitars, which are obviously different from the ordinary wilderness natives who are used for anything.

"I'm Richard, Lord of Alpine Fort. Richard walked straight down from the hills, wearing only a thin linen shirt on his upper body, his sword tucked into its sheath, and his hands loosely tucked into his breeches pockets.

In front of the centaur with the head of Roshan, the new single figure is defenseless, and he looks as weak as a baby. In the event of a conflict, it is bound to be trampled into a slimy meat sauce by the horses' hooves.

But the centaurs noticed that the soldiers were standing in groups of three or five as if they were not aware that their lord was in danger, and they were even pointing at them. This kind of performance generally represents extreme incompetence, and if not, then extreme self-confidence.

"You're Richard?" Hurt shook his head, his hooves tapping lightly on the ground, his eyes full of surprise.

"I don't think other nobles will have a commoner name like me. Richard looked at the centaurs curiously. Their eyes were calm, very different from those of the natives who were ready to kill or be killed, which is why Richard tried to engage peacefully.

"I've heard of your invincibility on the tournament platform!" Hurt has always been eager to join the Pompeii Empire, and is always very careful about any information related to Pompeii, which has accumulated over the years.

In a remote wilderness, he has even heard of unpopular news such as "Southern Province Martial Arts Competition Overlord" that only circulates in certain circles.

"That's so polite! Richard blushed and waved his hand repeatedly, but his heart was a little happy. He was well-known among the middle and lower class swordsmen of the Southern Province, but it was the first time he had been called out since he came here.

"My lord, we have something to tell you this time. ”

Hurt took out a fan-shaped cow's shoulder blade from his pocket, and Richard took it and saw that there were a number of reddish-brown symbols drawn on the front and back of ochre, which should be some kind of simple writing circulating in the wilderness.

The indigenous people are culturally influenced by humans, and they can be seen in the shoulder blade in front of them. There are a number of ready-made Pompeii scripts interspersed in the text, but they are very fragmented.

"What is said above. Anyway, he couldn't read it, and Richard threw the bone fragment back.