pjbooks Chapter 72 [The Future of the Tribe: Three Paths in Parallel!]
Chapter 72 [The Future of the Tribe: Three Paths in Parallel!]
The girl who created a miracle and changed the course of the war was unusually quiet at this moment.
The madness and bloodlust in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a complex mix of emotions that made Kahn feel a tightness in his chest.
On the morning of the second day after the battle ended, a thin mist mingled with the smoke and dust from the charred wood as the survivors silently cleaned up the battlefield.
They lifted their companion's body from the pile of orc corpses and carefully placed it in the open space in the center of the village.
No one spoke; only suppressed sobs could be heard intermittently.
Anya stopped beside the young body.
A gaunt mother is holding her dead son, silently weeping.
Anya knelt down and gently took the mother's hand.
She didn't say anything, she just stayed quietly by her side.
Influenced by her, several other women around her who had also lost loved ones gradually stopped crying, supporting each other and leaning against one another.
Not far away, Kahn stood motionless.
Looking at the dead young man, one of his followers, who had been shouting his name and clamoring to conquer the forest just two days ago.
Now, he lies cold in his mother's arms.
The mother's empty gaze completely extinguished any thoughts of glory and victory in Kahn's heart, and he was no longer driven by passion.
He needs to confront the consequences of his decisions.
Familiar faces, broken families.
At this moment, all that remained for Kahn was bewilderment and heaviness.
Mason wasn't among those cleaning up the bodies; he was with a few apprentice craftsmen, rummaging through the ruins for usable tools to prepare for the work to come.
He pulled a human-made iron spear from under an orc corpse.
The spearhead was curled up and full of nicks.
With a clang, Mason threw it on the ground and picked up another broken iron knife.
The blade broke in the middle, and rough impurities could be seen at the break.
He stroked the rough, broken surfaces with his hand, his brow furrowed.
Iron alone is far from enough.
Without good forging techniques, all they could produce was a pile of scrap metal, utterly ineffective in the face of real warfare.
Night fell again, and a huge bonfire was lit in the center of the village.
The flames dispelled some of the chill, but the survivors still wore solemn expressions.
Terra gathered all the core members of the tribe around the campfire.
The dwarf Balin was also there, holding his rune battleaxe, silent.
No one spoke.
After a long while, Terra stood up and placed the three items on the open ground in front of the campfire.
The first item was the skinning iron knife that the dwarf Balin gave to Mason.
It was used by Mason's apprentice in battle; the blade was stained with orc blood, but it remained sharp, gleaming coldly in the firelight.
This represents superb skills.
The second item is the core stone tablet that Lia brought back from the Eastern ruins.
The mysterious flame symbol on the stone slab has a strange texture even in daylight.
This represents knowledge that does not depend on blood ties.
The third item was a totem spear seized from the orc captain's corpse.
The spear was engraved with ferocious totems, and dark red blood clots were still congealed in the long blood groove.
This represents naked force and conquest.
"We won."
Terra's voice was hoarse, echoing in the silent night, "But we've almost lost everything. Now, we must choose a path, a path that will allow us... to truly survive."
All eyes were focused on the three items, which represented three different paths.
Mason was the first to break the silence, turning to Bahrain beside him and bowing deeply.
Then he straightened up and said to Terra:
"Our weapons were cut in half during the battle, and our warriors, wielding the spears we made, could not pierce the enemy's leather armor; this is my fault, it is because our skills are too poor."
He raised the iron sword that the dwarf had given him.
"Terra, I request to lead a team westward, guided by Master Balin. We can no longer wait for others' charity and guidance like beggars. We must seek out the dwarven cities and, with our utmost sincerity and humility, establish formal ties and systematically learn their skills. Only in this way can we forge our own true weapons."
As soon as Mason finished speaking, Anya stood up.
Lia was still very weak, leaning against Anya, her face pale.
Anya spoke up for her.
She gently picked up the stone slab engraved with a flame symbol.
"Skills need to be learned, but Master Balin also told us that the dwarves' great power comes from their bloodline, something we can never possess. But this..."
She held up the stone slab, saying, "It tells us that there is another kind of power, a kind of knowledge that doesn't ask about origins or bloodlines, but only requires understanding and learning."
Her gaze swept over everyone.
"Lia used it to light the first fire, and perhaps we can use it to create the future of the tribe; I suggest that we organize another team, led by me and Lia, to explore further east; to find more relics like that, and to seek more knowledge that can be mastered by all of us."
Everyone looked at Kahn.
This young man, who was once the most radical and advocated for force, remained silent at this moment.
Under everyone's gaze, he stood up and walked step by step to the blood-stained orc totem spear.
I bent down and picked it up with an almost heavy posture.
"Mason is right, we need skills; Anya is right, knowledge is our future; but both of these things take time."
Kahn's gaze swept over every face around the campfire, each one bearing sorrow and confusion.
"Today, our fallen brothers and sisters are buried; but next time, when the orcs' horns sound again, what will we use to fight them? Our unmastered skills? Or our half-baked knowledge?"
He paused for a moment, then gripped the totem spear in his hand tightly.
"I saw how the orcs fought; they charged into walls of fire, into blades, fearless of death; the dwarves have their god of forging, and the orcs have their war totem; before charging, they pray to their god for courage and strength; their god makes them unafraid of death."
After that battle, Kahn had shed his naivety and passion, matured, and become more considerate of others.
"Weapons and knowledge are important, but perhaps what we need more is something that can make everyone stand tall even in despair; the orcs have their gods, and perhaps... humanity also needs an entity that can respond to us; a faith that belongs to us."
Unlike the past when people simply vented their emotions, this time, everyone was thinking about the future of the tribe.
The craftsmen supported Mason, believing that weapons and tools were essential for survival.
Young people, on the other hand, are drawn to the power of knowledge that Anya describes.
Those who lost loved ones in battle and experienced despair deeply empathized with Kahn's words.
The debate became intense because it concerned the future of the entire tribe.
Finally, when all the noise subsided and everyone looked at Terra, waiting for his decision, Terra stood up.
His figure appeared exceptionally tall in the firelight.
He walked to the center of the three items, his gaze sweeping over the iron knife, the stone slab, and the totem spear in turn.
"We won't choose," Terra said firmly.
"We'll walk these three paths together."
He announced his decision:
"The tribe's strength will be divided into three parts: Mason, you will lead your people and, together with Master Balin, prepare for the journey west; Anya and Lia, you will also form your teams and draw up the route eastward; Karn, you and all the strongest warriors will stay behind. Your mission is to protect your homeland and, moreover, to find the being you spoke of."