Chapter 20
What exactly... is this Rock Tribe?
Burta, Chief of the Western Volcano Tribe, had recovered enough to move.
Now he looked around the village with complete disbelief.
Only a few hours earlier, physical pain had not been his greatest burden.
It had been guilt.
I did something terrible to the children of the Rock Tribe.
Before collapsing into sleep the previous night, shame had filled Burta’s mind.
Karga’s failed hunt had become the responsibility of Burta, the chief.
The honor of the Western Volcano Tribe demanded it.
That was the barbarian way.
But the monster they had never seen before was far stronger than Burta expected.
It was intelligent.
Persistent.
Burta had arrogantly hunted the creature.
Then the situation reversed.
He was cornered.
Badly wounded.
I should have taken responsibility somehow.
Unfortunately...
The final battle against the creature had taken place near the Northern Rock Tribe.
Even if he had been desperate...
Even if he had been running for his life...
He should never have led such a monster toward this fragile village filled only with children.
“Chief.”
Huku, who had been caring for him, spoke quietly.
“The Rock Tribe is finished.”
His voice was heavy.
“Everything is destroyed.”
Burta didn’t answer.
But inside...
He agreed.
“It is incredible that such young warriors managed to kill the monster...”
Huku sighed deeply.
His voice faded.
Since Huku had brought the injured Burta here, he probably felt responsible too.
The children had miraculously killed the monster.
But their foundation for survival had been destroyed.
How could these young barbarians survive the harsh Northern Frontier now?
“...I will take responsibility for the children of Rock.”
Burta clenched his fist.
“I owe them both a debt and gratitude.”
He looked toward the village.
“I will bring them to Volcano.”
His eyes became determined.
“I will feed them well.”
“Train them.”
“Raise them into excellent warriors.”
Zakan would obviously grow into a great warrior.
Several of the other children had impressive fighting spirits too.
But there was someone else Burta cared about even more.
Izak.
The young shaman who supposedly received revelations from the ancestor god.
A child whose eyes seemed to see through everything.
From the moment Burta first met him...
He had been unable to stop watching him.
How did he know the weakness of a monster he had never seen before?
Without Izak throwing ash and creating an opening...
Zakan’s attack never would have succeeded.
It was a miracle Zakan could never have achieved alone.
Izak created the perfect plan.
That allowed Zakan to act.
And because Izak trusted Zakan...
He had stood in front of the monster without hesitation.
Those children are truly desirable.
And that wasn’t all.
What happened after killing the monster was even more unbelievable.
Izak had prepared traps as though he knew exactly how the monster would behave.
He built barricades.
Encouraged the children.
True...
The plan had failed because of one insane human.
But even after the plan collapsed...
Izak quickly used his surroundings.
He bound the monster.
Then killed it.
He is not an ordinary barbarian.
Even so...
Burta tasted bitterness.
The child was extraordinary.
But the price of killing that monster had been enormous.
With the village fence destroyed...
The Rock Tribe would never recover to what it once was.
Yes.
Burta had been certain of that.
At least...
Until a few hours ago.
“Heave! Pull! Barbarians, pull harder!”
A strange, loud voice interrupted Burta’s thoughts.
It came from the destroyed village entrance.
“We do not have many materials left!”
The human man who had nearly been executed the previous night was shouting while sweating heavily.
“We’ll weave the usable remains diagonally and build an emergency defense first!”
He waved his hands wildly.
The children of the Rock Tribe began digging like crazy.
They raised heavy wooden posts.
“We are barbarians who repair home!”
“We are smart, so we make home stronger!”
The children shouted strange slogans while pulling ropes.
Every time they pulled...
A geometric structure of crossed wooden beams rose over the previously ruined village entrance.
An arched emergency fence quickly took shape.
Honestly...
To Burta, this so-called temporary fence already looked far stronger than the tribe’s old fence.
Is that man truly a skilled craftsman?
Burta watched the strange sight in silence.
How did that young shaman immediately understand the real value of that human?
And how did he use him so perfectly?
If Burta had been responsible...
He would have followed barbarian law and cut down the arrogant human who destroyed the village.
But now...
The Northern Rock Tribe was rebuilding itself with tremendous energy.
Burta trembled.
It can be changed...?
Their ancestral home.
Barbarians simply lived on the land exactly as nature allowed.
If wind destroyed a tent...
They rebuilt the same tent.
If a fence rotted...
They replaced it with the same kind of fence.
That was how they had always lived.
Yet before Burta’s eyes...
The Rock Tribe was not simply rebuilding.
It was improving.
Becoming better than before.
“Potato! Potato! POTATO!”
Something round entered Burta’s vision.
“What is that?”
He flinched and took a step backward.
A round yellow object was waddling around beneath the children’s feet as though supervising their work.
Three leaves on its head moved up and down.
It shouted encouragement.
“C-Chief...”
Huku’s mouth fell open.
“A potato is walking around.”
Just as Burta and Huku stared in shock at something they had never seen before...
“Oh, you’re awake, Burta.”
A calm voice came from behind them.
Burta flinched and turned.
Izak stood there.
He carried a basket filled with large, fresh potatoes.
Burta stared at the potatoes in his arms and simply blinked.
In front of Izak’s field.
“F-Farming...?”
Burta sat across from Izak.
He looked frozen.
As if he couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“Yes.”
Izak pointed toward the field.
“This is where I grow our potatoes.”
Burta stared.
Green leaves were growing from simple rows of black, fertile soil.
Another lightning bolt struck his mind.
The Northern Frontier had always been cursed land.
Dead land.
Everyone knew crops edible by barbarians could never grow here.
Only strange plants monsters could eat.
Or poisonous vegetation.
And yet...
In the middle of this land of death...
Bright green life was growing beautifully.
To barbarian common sense...
This was nothing less than a miracle.
“H-How...?”
“The ancestor god gave me his blessing.”
Izak answered casually.
“So I can farm.”
Burta stared blankly at the field.
“Is something like this truly possible...?”
Izak tilted his head.
“You are looking at it with your own eyes.”
He pointed toward the crops.
