Chapter 100
Chapter 100 – Devouring and Evolution (10)
The Tribe of the Grassland, treated as barbaric by nearby kingdoms and empires, found themselves in the borderlands of the “true north,” a place deemed unworthy even by other tribes.
Originally a land for beasts, it began to see humans settling in small numbers due to the chaos that ensued in the grasslands. This was a natural occurrence.
However, the unity and growth of these settlers was a far cry from natural.
“Unbelievable. The Chieftain is deceiving us. What could possibly be in that barren land?”
Garon, the chief of a small tribe that had tried to pledge allegiance to Chieftain Garhan, was utterly disgruntled.
After surrendering, Garhan had sent him and the other small tribes to the northern frontier. He claimed they would be able to live without hunger there.
The weaker parties that bowed down first had no choice but to follow, but their dissatisfaction was palpable. Fear spread among them that Garhan intended to push them into the wilderness and subject them to misery.
The northern border was a desolate land, barren and mysterious. This was common knowledge.
“Chief. I’ve brought them. These are the new arrivals.”
“Good work, R’tai. Make sure to hand over the promised supplies.”
But this anxiety was slowly being replaced by a different emotion. It began with the arrival of Balun, who led the Arin Tribe soldiers.
“Who the heck is that?”
They were stunned not only by the fact that a proper tribe resided here but also by Balun and the attire of those he brought.
Returning straight from the northern battlefield, Balun wore a helmet and armor made from the bones of the powerful mutant Drakes, while his soldiers were all equipped with high-quality iron.
Moreover, everyone was taken aback as they witnessed Balun handing over the promised supplies to R’tai and the soldiers of Garhan.
He transferred a massive amount of food, weapons, and livestock piled high on several carts. All of these were considered valuable resources in this land.
“I can’t believe they bought us as slaves for that high a price.”
Garon was puzzled by this. Even if Garhan deceived them and sold them as slaves to this Arin Tribe, there had to be a reasonable value involved.
He had pride and didn’t want to demean his worth, yet Garon knew well that their weak value paled in comparison to the supplies Balun had just delivered.
“You were bought as slaves? Don’t say such things. You are now part of us. Merging or splitting tribes is not uncommon in these grasslands.”
“Then what were those supplies you just gave to the Chieftain’s subordinates?”
“I just paid the introduced price.”
Garon learned the reason while conversing with an Arin soldier named Res. It turned out that Balun had only given those supplies as a condition for leading them in submitting to Garhan.
“I can’t understand. There are few warriors, and there are quite a few children and elders. Under the current situation, we can’t really be worth that much…”
“One might think so. But I assure you, don’t underestimate your worth. He sees precious talents even in a simple child or elder. Ultimately, people are the most important. That is the lesson we’ve learned from him.”
As Garon reacted with astonishment, Res grinned and pointed somewhere with his hand. Garon awkwardly smiled upon seeing that finger directed towards the sky.
The newcomers displayed confusion since they had yet to directly see or experience what the Arin Tribe meant.
“This is insane. No way.”
However, as they walked and walked, finally nearing a spot where the Arin Tribe’s village was visible, Garon, along with the majority of newcomers, widened their eyes in astonishment.
A towering wall that couldn’t be seen in the grasslands welcomed them, shining like a star under the starlit sky.
Gems glittered atop the wall, illuminating the darkness as if they were stars themselves.
“Even children and elders have their roles. Each has different talents. That’s why people are the most important.”
As the newcomers began to quickly merge into one,
Garon came to grasp the meaning of those words he had heard from Res during their first meeting—understanding it could only come through direct experience.
It was a different resolution problem altogether, not just about the worry of food or how to request a specific block for their future homes.
“Did you work hard?”
“Yes. I heard compliments about my rapid progress. I didn’t even know I had such talent…”
Returning at sunset, Garon’s son, still a young teenager, was excited. Of course, in this world, he would be treated as an adult at that age, but Garon couldn’t help but worry for his son.
Yet his son wore a bright expression because he had just engaged in Creature Hunting and learned crafting skills.
Seeing the potential talent reflected on the status screen from outside the game, he was turned into a craftsman.
“The senior, Eva, said once I learn how to process materials, I can graduate and get a job at the workshop.”
Due to limits on how many could be placed, most residents learned necessary skills within the game and then exited to develop their talents outside.
The first female Dwarf crafter, Eva, along with her successor, learned their skills this way, ‘graduating’ from the game and eventually establishing a workshop in the village with Balun’s support, creating special equipment for the entire tribe.
“As long as you seem satisfied… that’s enough.”
Garon smiled at the sight of his son. He felt content knowing that despite initially thinking his son lacked the qualities of a warrior, he had become a reliable member contributing to the tribe.
Of course, for someone once considered a tribal chief to reduce to just a worker might bring some dissatisfaction, but neither Garon nor his son, nor anyone around them, cared.
“So what if he’s not a warrior or soldier? My son received the blessing of that great one.”
In the Arin Tribe, there was no such thing as social hierarchies based on professions anymore. Everyone who was assigned work within the tribe was chosen by the Guardian Deity to nurture their talent.
Be it miners who could dig deep into the earth with a single swing of a pickaxe, or transporters who moved blocks for building structures and facilities, all were individuals graced by a miraculous choice of their god.
The straightforward but rigid social class of chief-warrior-commoner didn’t apply here.
“You must be tired, yet you don’t rest.”
“But the lessons are just starting!”
Garon’s son had returned home after his duties in the game world, yet he refused to sleep and headed out again to learn writing.
Those learning skills, along with regular citizens, realized just how convenient learning to write could be, propelling everyone to strive for it.
Though the sun had long set, the luminous stones gathered from sandbox crafting shone in vibrant hues, illuminating every corner of the darkened village.
“…Enemies! The enemies have appeared from the rift!”
“What!”
However, it seemed today’s lessons would be postponed. As they leaped outside in panic, the village had already descended into chaos.
The guard atop the wall shouted the arrival of Bugs and glitches that emerged through a sudden rift, and many began to climb the walls.
“Grab your weapons! To the eastern wall!”
With the main forces at the Northern Fortress, the remaining villagers had to defend the village. Garon, gritting his teeth, grabbed his bow.
Having become part of the Arin Tribe and receiving food, skills, and shelter meant he inherited one single duty: to fight against the enemy as a guardian.
“Father!”
“You stay home with your mother! What the Guardian Deity has given you to do is to make these arrows, not to fight!”
After pushing his son away, Garon grabbed arrows made from the bones of mutants and raced to the wall alongside others.
Already, the guards were shooting arrows as they battled the Bugs climbing up the walls.
“Ahhh!”
The enemies resembled beetles or roaches, and regardless of whether they were Bugs or glitches, they were utterly grisly and mechanical.
Those scaling the towering walls were struck repeatedly by the turret’s projectiles, and with their powerful limbs, they wrapped their tentacles around some archers, piercing through them, causing them to fall.
‘This is horrifying.’
Garon clenched his teeth and shot arrows at the exposed flank of a glitch, bringing one down.
Few watching the initial arrival of these creatures were unmoved. They were too cold, mechanical, and not at all beast-like.
“Oh! The great one is helping us!”
A massive translucent chainsaw summoned from the sky spun fiercely, clearing out many of the Bugs clinging to the wall.
While they couldn’t shake the ones close to the villagers for fear of collateral damage, it was enough for the residents.
“We’re almost there! Just a bit more!”
“Y-yes.”
Garon nodded in shock at someone encouraging him with a pat on the back. This was an experience he never had as a chieftain.
But it didn’t feel bad. Everyone was united, fighting against the enemy. Though it hadn’t been long since he joined as a newcomer, they were already one.
With his blood boiling, Garon fought more aggressively. For himself and for everyone.
“Ah.”
What struck him was the spiked leg of an enemy climbing the wall, right after that incident.
*
“Are they different from ants? Did they cooperate to launch such an attack?”
Having overthrown the Dwarf Kingdom and seeing a massive emergence of enemies now settled in the Northern Land, the safety of the rear was no guarantee.
Small enemies constantly troubled us, spilling out from sporadically opening rifts, and soon Bug nests began to emerge that would spawn them.
The battle continued. It would continue forward.
‘Victims… they can’t be avoided.’
Despite deploying the chainsaw to help, there were casualties.
Every time I saw those who had succumbed without a moment’s notice before I could heal them with my vaccine program, my heart sank.
Naturally, it left me unsettled.
I worried if I would ever become accustomed to it, but it didn’t seem like I would. Perhaps getting used to it would create another issue altogether.
‘We must either build more defense turrets or upgrade the existing ones.’
With my focus drawn to the Northern Fortress, I had hardly invested in defense turrets around the village.
If I had installed more defense turrets, perhaps there would have been fewer casualties. Now, fearing that my choices had been wrong, I fiddled with the recently upgraded turrets with my mouse.
My choices were seen as holy divine instructions to them. They regarded it as absolute. But I, too, was just a mere human like them. Tomorrow, key personnel will embark on an expedition to rescue the Dwarf Survivors; should I stop that now? I pondered needlessly.
