Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Space Age Emperor
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I saw our current situation in a pretty positive light.
With me included, we had 26 warriors in the tribe—a number that qualified us as a large tribe.
What better training could there be than hunting ferocious beasts?
I devised a plan to lure the tiger in with arrows, then ambush its retreat path and finish it off with spears.
The staff, led by Black Stone, reviewed the plan and, surprisingly, fleshed it out with details suited to this era's conditions.
The hunt would begin right after dawn broke.
Tigers were nocturnal, most active in their feeding at dawn.
Their dens were nearly impossible to find, so we'd use this time to lure it out.
For the lure, we'd tie animal entrails and fat with string, drag them along the ground to leave a bloody trail.
The path to the kill zone would be a V-shaped corridor made of tree debris.
At the corridor's end, we'd place the bait, with a double blockade line.
Once the tiger entered the kill zone, we'd unleash everything we had.
If it charged in a frenzy despite that, the blockade would hold it back with shields while we positioned spears for thrusts.
We also accounted for escape: ambush along the bushes with arrows and spears.
If it fled, we'd track the blood trail and ensure total extermination. That was the core of the plan.
With the plan set, we dove straight into training.
The key drills were forming a shield wall to hold firm and pouring arrows and spears into extreme damage output.
Arrows used obsidian tips; spears had stone heads weighted toward the tip.
I handled javelin and shield training, while Eagle's Eye trained the archers. It felt like my workload had lightened a bit.
Mornings for training, afternoons for wall-building—that routine repeated day after day.
The day of the hunt.
On a day like this, without hide clothes, most would hole up in caves.
But we were gradually shedding our primitive ways.
Our appearance might still lag behind the Yeojin tribe, but compared to other humans of this era?
No need to even say it.
People here saw wandering in winter as suicidal.
The primitives lined up before the simple moat.
A week of relentless repetition had honed their skills—some even slept with shields as pillows.
Failing to kill the tiger meant trembling in fear all winter. That much was obvious.
The problem? Even after all that drilling, a faint undercurrent of fear lingered.
As chieftain, it was my duty to dispel their worries.
"Tiger meat is great for virility."
"Virility...? Chieftain! What's that?"
"It means you can sow your seed more times! Eat tiger meat, and at night, your manhood swells with vigor."
"Really!?"
"I swear it on my name as chieftain."
"Wooah!"
"Meat for virility!"
"......"
The tribe's warriors suddenly went wild.
Truth be told, I had no idea if tiger meat actually boosted virility.
Wild boar or tiger—nutritionally, probably similar.
But believing it was what mattered.
The placebo effect would do the rest.
Even Black Stone, whose nights were growing tougher with age, clenched his fist and bellowed.
"We'll catch that tiger and eat it for sure!"
Men really were that simple.
We set out before sunrise.
The wind blew from east to west.
The kill zone construction had wrapped up over the past week.
Tiger scat everywhere had kept sour faces on us the whole time.
The entrance was wide, narrowing to shoulder-width at the end.
Rough branches lined both sides, serving as walls.
Beyond the kill zone, we'd piled logs as a barrier.
To mask our scent, we smeared ourselves with a mix of dirt, pine resin, and ash.
Now it began.
As planned, we bundled entrails and fat with string, soaked in blood, and dragged it through tiger territory.
It was winter now.
With food scarce, that heavy blood scent would drive any carnivore mad.
Everyone took positions, roles assigned.
Then, the wait.
Whoooosh.
A knife-edge wind scoured our faces.
It felt like an ice age vigil.
The sun rose in the meantime.
After spreading this much blood scent, and still no approach?
I worried we might come up empty.
Time dragged on.
Only faint breaths broke the silence, until the air shifted.
A magpie cawed in the distance.
Soon after a roe deer's scream, Eagle's Eye reported.
"It's coming."
"Grrrrowl."
A low-frequency rumble echoed moments later.
Hairs stood on end.
A massive shadow crept low.
'Is that really a tiger?'
Its size explained why primitives quaked at the name.
Pure muscle, and its look differed from what I knew.
Pumpkin-orange fur with stripes was the only familiar trait.
It moved cautiously.
Muscles rippled visibly with each step.
It entered the kill zone unscathed(?).
The moment it bit the bundle wrapped in entrails and fat.
Pfssht!
Thwack!
"Krrrngh!"
Eagle's Eye's arrow slammed dead into the tiger's left eye.
The fruit of our training.
The tiger thrashed wildly.
Thud! Thud-thud!
Arrows and spears flew, embedding deep.
The tiger charged us.
"Insane!"
Twelve arrows in its body.
Four spears too, and it still moved.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
It leaped off a barrier gap.
Everyone's faces twisted in shock.
"Just like we practiced!"
Clack! Clack!
The shield drill we'd hammered endlessly.
Instinctive response, no matter the crisis.
Bam!
Red Rock withstood the tiger's body slam.
Shield bearers spun instantly, encircling it.
All at once.
Thrust! Thrust!
Spears stabbed from every side.
Splurt!
Hot blood splashed and clung to me.
I leaped high, smashing my club down on its skull.
Crack!
I felt the cranium shatter.
"Grrrh......"
The mountain beast finally collapsed.
No one moved, breaths held.
Primitives were taught: see a big cat, flee the area.
Alone with one? Dead meat. Better move tribes than worry.
Today, their common sense shattered.
"Whirlwind!"
Someone shouted my name.
The primitives raised their weapons in unison.
"Whirlwind killed the tiger in one blow!"
"As expected of Whirlwind!"
"Uwooh!"
"......"
I hadn't killed it alone.
It was already a bloody pincushion.
Yet the tribe chanted my name, cheering instinctively.
'Not a bad thing, right?'
Early stage deification.
Pre-shamanism era.
Religion arises when humans seek something beyond cognition.
Shamanism's birth was like that.
If I could fill that role?
'I could build a theocratic society.'
Still a distant dream, of course.
"Let's head back."
We returned triumphant, tiger in tow.
In cave days, we'd butcher and show off kills.
No need now.
The Whirlwind Tribe's spot was like an isolated island.
Moat down, we filed into the settlement.
Despite the chill, women and kids swarmed out.
"Th-they killed a tiger!"
"The big cat's dead!"
The village erupted.
Utter pandemonium.
White Flame fussed over my injuries.
I raised a hand; the tribe fell silent.
"Use the hide for shields or armor, tendons for bowstrings. Bones for tools and needles, fat for salve."
"And the meat?"
Black Stone asked.
A strange zeal in his eyes.
Everyone around shared it.
"We eat it, obviously?"
"Uwooh! Virility-boosting tiger meat!"
"Feast tonight, swing all night!"
No explanation needed for what they'd swing.
We'd hunted to eliminate winter threats.
Somehow, it turned into fetching aphrodisiacs.
White Flame beside me caught the virility meaning, eyes sparkling.
"Tonight, we make a baby."
"......"
"Why so quiet?"
"We did it last night too......?"
"Only three times yesterday! Your seed hasn't taken yet. Tonight, with virility meat, we'll do five!"
White Flame bluntly called for baby-making.
No one batted an eye.
Red Rock glanced at me with a faint smile.
"Chieftain, can't handle five?"
"No way! Whirlwind's smart and strong! Six's possible!"
The talk veered weirdly.
The more primitive, the more instinct-driven humans became.
Standard for this era, I guess.
I raised my club high.
"White Flame! No sleep for you tonight!"
"That's my chieftain!"
"The chieftain's club is mighty!"
My legs trembling already? No illusion.