Al certainly couldn't have guessed that the Northern Council of Estalia would send him such a grand gift.
He had originally anticipated that, given the current precarious situation—having lost naval supremacy, with defenses leaking everywhere, and completely unable to resist the Greenskins on land—the Northerners would highly likely agree to his conditions.
Al didn't genuinely expect the Estalians to "cede" Piña and the Inara Mountains in one breath. Even though these two territories were clearly not as important as their life-and-death survival, it would inevitably invite accusations of looting a burning house and kicking them while they were down, easily provoking the resentment of the Estalians.
He just wanted a pretext, allowing the tribe and the Estalians to reach a mutually acceptable cooperation, and using this "legal" cover to openly expand his influence within the Southern Realms.
At the very least, Al's bottom line was to safely and legally occupy Piña and parts of the Inara Mountains, forming an independent kingdom akin to, at minimum, the Wood Elves in Athel Loren.
Surrounded by his scions, he was watching a rather unique game of competitive ball.
Or rather, "competitive foot-ball."
That is, soccer.
Al figured the tribe was strong in simple martial prowess but lagged far behind in culture. Unless he dragged humanity back to the era of Sigmar, to subtly improve relations between the two sides, he had to rack his brains to come up with things that could transcend the boundaries of race and faith—things they could use to communicate, entertain, and compete together.
Rugby was relatively less popular because most of the people who loved that game were Khorngors.
Unless the heavily armored Battle Sisters took the field themselves, only a very small number of individuals with innate brute strength and powerful physiques wouldn't be sent flying by the Khorngors in a pure collision of physical brute force. It would be slightly better with common Beastmen, but out of safety concerns, Al temporarily did not support humans participating in that game.
If they played separately, it would just be each side playing on their own, failing to achieve Al's goal of "eliminating racial barriers through interaction and promoting friendship between Humans and Beastmen."
So he once again copied the wisdom of Earth.
He "invented" things like "Tribal Chess" and "Fight the Greenskin" [a play on the card game Dou Dizhu/Fight the Landlord].
He taught them to the Shamans, had the Shamans teach some of the cleverer Beastmen, and through them, spread these forms of entertainment to the refugees, actively leading them in playing.
Thus, the following scene could frequently be seen in the camp:
A group of Beastmen and Humans gathered together. In a small clearing in the middle sat crude chess pieces carved from wood, or leaf-cards made of similarly sized leaves dyed with numbers.
As for soccer, Al proactively used food rations to recruit physically strong Humans and Beastmen to form mixed teams for training and matches. All expenses were covered by the tribe, treating it as free entertainment.
In times of crisis, people always need various ways to fill the void in their hearts and boost their spirits.
Before and after every match, Al also had the Shamans hold grand sacrificial ceremonies as opening and closing acts. This increased the influence of the New Four Gods in the audience's minds, facilitating the gathering of the flock, while trying to avoid causing feelings of rejection.
Currently, the opening sacrifice had just ended, and the competitive soccer match had only recently begun.
Both teams consisted of six Estalian men and six male Beastmen.
Everyone had at least half a month of training experience. Although it was certainly crude compared to Earth in all aspects, it was enough for the refugees and tribal Beastmen who were encountering this form of entertainment for the first time.
The field was neither too big nor too small—a clearing that had been cleared in advance with no obvious bumps or dips.
The perimeter was simply fenced off with hurdles, separating it from the spectators. Outside the crude fence, every empty spot was crammed with tribesmen and refugees who had come to watch the match.
There were probably one to two thousand people.
After all, in tribal life, unless one had a special abundance of energy to support jumping up and down all day, most of the time was quite dull: gathering, hunting, gathering, hunting.
Especially recently, when there seemed to be a minor issue with the food supply.
Regardless of gender, as long as they had labor capacity, the refugees' workload had to be adjusted. In some "pilot areas" specifically selected by Al, the tribal forces didn't directly intervene in the distribution of supplies; instead, they "handed it back" to some of the kingdom's bureaucrats and upper classes to manage.
So far, they seemed to be working diligently. Embezzlement and lining their own pockets weren't non-existent, but still relatively rare. At least for now, there hadn't been any glaringly egregious behavior.
There weren't many complaints among the refugees either. After all, the food might not be quite enough, and life was going to be a bit harder. Although it hadn't been publicly announced, anyone could deduce a thing or two from various signs.
Al continued to observe for the time being. He had specifically selected people who, after being blessed by the Loving Mother, he could tell at a glance were "parasites," "leeches," and "talents whose only purpose in living is to waste food."
He felt completely reassured handing power over to this group.
They would definitely screw things up!
But that would be a good thing for Al.
Destroying the refugees' trust and reliance on the old system, making them lose their sense of security and their followers, was the only way to better bring them under Al's banner.
Even if he miscalculated, and these "bad guys" didn't use various means to incite public outrage as he envisioned, it wouldn't be a big problem...
Al would give them a push!
"Goal! Goal!"
"The Crimson Storm team scores the first goal! Earning one point! Goddess above! Crimson Storm has taken the first point of this match! Will this victory accompany them to the very end?"
A rich tenor voice shouted excitedly. Although this format sounded a bit strange, it had to be said that it was indeed very effective at mobilizing people's emotions.
Al had specifically found a few people with passable voices, prepared scripts for them, had them practice repeatedly on their own, and then assigned them specifically as commentators. The reward was a ration of food.
Currently, this was the most precious thing. The currency system had actually regressed back to bartering; after all, the tribespeople had no use for money.
The outputs of the Piña Forest were mainly timber, open-pit minerals, herbs, and a rich, diverse array of beasts and monsters—which humans saw as danger, but Al saw as food and legion reserves.
Occasionally, they could also collect things like amber. With the Loving Mother's believers and Goblin laborers, they were actually developing woodland farming, such as mushrooms, fast-growing fruits, and crops. However, at the current scale, supplying such a large population was clearly a fantasy.
"Go! Crimson Storm! Crush them!"
"Try harder! Iron Hearts—you can do it!"
The spectators watching the match also shouted, supporting their favored team.
Al had chosen the team names. The first people to hype up the atmosphere were also specifically chosen by Al. The goal was to create an atmosphere, allowing people to adapt and immerse themselves faster, and then begin expanding its boundaries on their own.
Now, it seemed the results weren't bad.
The prize Al prepared this time was a close relative of the Tuskgor, likely a devolved breed, a creature resembling a wild boar.
Weighing at least four hundred pounds, it was caught in a trap.
After being divided among the twelve men of the winning team, everyone could go home and enjoy a hearty, full meal for a few days.
There was also a small box of coins, all Imperial Gold Crowns. Although they were currently useless in the forest, they would definitely have a use in the future.
The losers would also receive some prey as a consolation prize.
Furthermore, Al gave those who performed exceptionally well a choice:
Join his legion.
Not the current Estalian Auxilia, because with the officers corrupted by Al, they were basically completely subordinate to the Beastmen. However, if they were to cross swords with the Kingdom of Estalia right now, presumably, aside from those who had already converted, the majority would become restless, collapsing without a fight or perhaps finding an opportunity to switch sides mid-battle.
Al planned to form a mortal royal guard directly under his command.
Of course, he didn't expect them to be amazing fighters, but he had to have one, to provide room for promotion for those who wished to pledge their loyalty.
The current basic framework
was built using the zealots he requested from the Grand Sister. However, the Bloodmother faith they followed differed from the current tribal mainstream. Their spiritual leader was currently the Grand Sister, and while they respected and were willing to obey Al, they hadn't yet fully accepted the concept of the "Everchosen."
They only revered the Bloodmother, and only knew the Bloodmother.
In the future, Al's inner circle would definitely try to be a mix of the Four Gods' factions as much as possible. He had to maintain balance and be impartial, especially with a naturally pantheistic race like post-Great War humanity.
It was just that currently, the Bloodmother—symbolizing vengeance, battle, anger, bravery, and glory—was clearly spreading the fastest among these refugees who had lost their homes and loved ones, desiring revenge but lacking the power for it. Second was the Loving Mother, followed by the Reveler. Only the All-Knowing Mom had the lowest popularity (just kidding).
But that didn't matter; that's just how the situation was.
Later, once the nation was established and the subjects lived and worked in peace, faith in the Reveler would definitely rise rapidly. As for the All-Knowing Mom, she primarily took the elite route. Al considered establishing specialized schools in the future to cultivate elite bureaucrats and intellectuals.
Most of these people would ultimately gravitate toward the All-Knowing faith.
Or Chaos Undivided.
Al's thoughts unknowingly drifted to matters after the nation's founding, when suddenly a werewolf messenger arrived to report:
A squad of knights had entered the forest, claiming to have met Al once before, and were requesting an audience.
Al immediately patted the Minotaur girl's thigh and hopped down from his eldest daughter's lap.
"Bring them here quickly!"
"Right, and ask what their purpose is!"
To put it bluntly.
Al wanted those knights to join him.
Ideally, they would bow down on the spot. "There are not two suns in the sky"; from then on, their hearts would only hold one sun—the Everchosen—and four moons—the Mother Goddesses.
Of course, that was clearly a fool's dream.