Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Space Age Emperor
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In this era, the purpose of war could only be the plundering of population.
Not just in the primitive age, but all the way through antiquity.
Infant mortality rates were brutally high, and men died easily from hunting accidents or mishaps.
They desperately needed more people—especially young men.
The best strategy was to absorb them without killing if possible.
However, the staff officers who'd been through countless wars—Black Stone and Blue Tree—expressed skepticism.
"Is that even possible?"
"We're saying don't kill them if we can, but we don't need to go out of our way and get hurt ourselves."
"That much, we can manage."
This war would be a straight-up frontal assault, no sneaky ambushes or traps.
That alone would overwhelm the enemy.
To achieve the goal, though, they couldn't just charge in blindly—they needed preparation.
It was time to teach group tactics.
"Hold the shields like this and charge."
"Cover your whole body with the shield?"
"That's right. This is called the turtleback formation."
The primitives were stunned.
In this era, war meant charging in every which way with stone axes or crude spears—that was it.
No one even thought of using shields.
But if they went beyond that and used group tactics, they wouldn't die unless they were extraordinarily unlucky.
Those with quick wits could grasp the ripple effects.
"W-we'll be invincible!"
"No one will die!"
"That's exactly right."
A tactical revolution.
The turtleback formation was used widely even up to the Middle Ages.
The tribesfolk, now understanding my words, buzzed with excitement.
With tactics like this, they could smash and absorb any tribe that appeared, no matter who—confidence welled up within them.
"Then let's make the shields."
To employ tactics, standardization was essential.
They couldn't be 100% precise like machine-stamped, but the angles had to match so there'd be minimal gaps when using shield techniques.
'Roman legion scuta are the best, but we can't make round shields yet.'
Curved shields like the scutum required an insane amount of labor.
Slicing wood thin, bending it, gluing and shaping it—the process was excruciatingly arduous.
So they'd standardize rectangular shields.
Of course.
Primitive shields didn't mean just roughly carving logs, either.
Peel elm and ash bark as thin as possible, layer them in three crossed sheets, and glue.
The adhesive was pine resin mixed with animal fat and charcoal powder.
Length to cover from shoulder to shin, width about a fist wider than shoulder-width.
They could cover it with leather for better defense and moisture resistance, but they didn't have enough leather that didn't rot.
They needed to provide leather armor somehow, but even with traps everywhere, they couldn't procure enough hides from hunting.
So only cover the front four shields with primitive leather, and stitch the edges with sinew thread from animals.
Handles: a central horizontal grip bar plus leather arm straps, allowing pushing and bracing.
No metal, so carve thick bone plates round and attach to the center.
To disperse impact.
Goal: 20 shields.
They could make four a day, so five days would suffice.
Even mobilizing the whole tribe and skipping countless processes, without skilled artisans, production was inevitably slow.
The crowning touch: spears.
Obsidian tips had great penetration but were one-use, so carry backup spears with bone or fire-hardened wood tips.
Clubs were for captures.
Your typical batons.
Preferably knock 'em out by smashing the head, but if they resist fiercely, just kill them.
Breaking legs was also recommended.
Securing combatants was good, but manpower could always be put to use somehow.
Shields made—now training.
"Square phalanx!"
"Square phalanx, you idiots!"
When I called cadence, Black Stone and Blue Tree bellowed at the tribesfolk.
Square phalanx: eight in the front row, eight in the second, three as reserves.
In case the front line fell, they'd fill in.
The last one?
I planned to raise him as an elite marksman.
"Turtleback formation!"
Shhhk!
Front line fine, but sides and second row tangled and stumbled a lot.
Thrusting spears through shield gaps felt awkward to them.
Still, no one gave up.
They understood the need for population growth.
"Again!"
The primitives rose and took position.
The training itself wasn't that hard.
Holding the shield was tricky, and it was heavier than it looked—unfamiliar.
Without the stamina and strength honed from daily field hunts, they'd tire quickly.
Which meant they could smash foes with the shields too.
"Shield bash!"
"Raaah!"
The shield bottoms were sharpened to points.
Hit with that, it'd be at least a serious wound.
After three days of training, they started shaping up nicely.
Plus.
Train the elite marksman too.
"Eagle's Eye!"
"Chieftain, you called?"
"They say your eyes are sharp?"
"Yes. I've seen far ever since I was born."
"You'll do basic training plus shooting practice. That okay?"
"Does that mean if our tribe grows, I become archery captain?"
"Y-yeah."
"I'll do my best!"
'I've been underestimating these primitives.'
Everything they were doing now was building group hierarchy.
They realized that as the tribe grew, leaders under the chieftain commanding martial groups would gain power.
Even three people together create power dynamics—it's weirder if a group of over a hundred has none.
In other words, the primitives trained so diligently because they hoped to become power players in a massive tribe someday.
Ambition, put another way.
A week into training.
As primitive power structures and ranks began to emerge and writhe, adding drill movements sharpened their actions even more.
They'd reached a level where calling them an army wouldn't be strange.
With naturally solid base fitness, and everyone already knew spears.
They'd carried square shields even before making these, so training progressed fast.
Drills: anyone could nail them with a day's practice.
The primitives were 100% confident of victory—I felt the same, but one small regret.
'Hooks and nets would be even better.'
That was greed for now.
If you could knock their heads to knock 'em out, great; if they died, fate.
The eve of departure.
The primitives, used to hardcore daily training, realized it was time when I let them slack all day.
We rested like it was a holiday, then gathered at evening.
I began the briefing(?).
"From scouting reports: enemies are within walking distance by the time the sun's high. Their terrain's surrounded by rivers on three sides like ours—no escape if we hit frontally."
"Perfect conditions."
"We'll take every last one!"
"Raaah!"
"Tactics are simple: frontal breakthrough."
"Frontal breakthrough!"
The primitives' vocabulary was improving thanks to me.
More concise words, less spelling out meanings.
After briefing, bad news.
"No seeding today."
"Uh......"
"Mmm......"
The warriors drooped.
War tomorrow—couldn't they at least once?
Modern eyes might think so, but these era men were beasts through and through.
Group orgies were normal; seeding as many women as possible was ingrained culture.
Dead serious about spreading genes.
Problem: they expended massive energy doing it.
Of course, as a man myself, I got it.
"Can't waste energy seeding before war tomorrow. But! Once we capture that downstream tribe, you can take women to your heart's content!"
"Whirlwind forever!"
"More women!"
"More people!"
The warriors raised weapons high.
New women were better—modern or primitive, same thrill.
Next morning.
We woke refreshed.
The ones bummed about no seeding were shocked at their great condition.
"No seeding before war."
"Feeling extra strong today."
'You guys overdo it.'
I just tsked inwardly.
Departure morning: hearty breakfast, plus combat rations packed.
Smoked meat and fruit—women prepped yesterday.
"Whirlwind!"
As we set out, White Flame ran up and hugged me.
"Raaah! Chieftain's woman!"
White Flame draped an animal-bone necklace around my neck.
Bright red and flashy, eye-catching...
But for the sentiment, I wore it.
"Come back safe."
"Got it."
Envious looks all around.
Primitive love, I guess.
Even with polygamy someday, I'd need to instill marriage concepts...
Worried it'd be tough without religion.
I shook my head.
Family concepts later, once tribe grows and settles fully.
Sorta send-off ceremony, so short speech.
"Today we head downriver. Goal: people. Forget stringy old meat—capture women, kids, able-bodied men. Remember! The bigger our tribe grows, the greater power you'll wield!"
"Let's go!"
"Wipe 'em out!"
The Whirlwind Tribe marched out magnificently, armed with overkill tech.