Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Space Era Emperor
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The Black Tribe from the downstream river was absorbed without a hitch.
They brought technology where we needed it and brute force where we lacked it. Nothing was missing, and our tribe had even received some professional(?) combat training.
On top of that, by physically pinning down their chieftain Red Rock, I figured we'd built up some trust.
It might sound absurd by medieval standards, but in this era, it was perfectly logical.
The Black Tribe members who came upstream with us were stunned when they saw the half-completed settlement.
A circular plaza doubled as the communal fire pit atop the low hill, with four roads stretching out east, west, south, and north from its center.
Each road had ditches dug along the sides for drainage, paved with gravel to keep the mud at bay.
Over on the western ridge, the frames of earthen houses were rising, complete with small clay stoves in every one. To people of this era, it must have been a shock.
"What an incredible place!"
Sure enough, gasps of awe.
But in an age where no one thought to invest so much effort into a permanent settlement, Red Rock looked puzzled.
"I admit it's impressive. But aren't we supposed to move on soon? When the game thins out, we have to keep going."
"We're not leaving."
"Why not?"
All eyes from the Black Tribe turned to me.
I called over our tribe's artist and had him fetch the blueprints I'd planned out in advance.
I pointed to the edge of the stone slab—the southern plot we'd cleared for farming as a demonstration.
"We plant seeds here and grow them. We keep only the thick, sturdy ones and eat the rest. Pass those seeds on to next year, and the following year, they'll grow even thicker."
"R-Really?"
"Our chieftain's never been wrong. He came up with the shields, the armor, even the bows."
"Came up with?"
"It means I thought up the designs... the methods."
"Incredible!"
"Uwooh!"
The new primitive recruits seemed short on vocabulary, but that was fine.
We were gradually inventing concise words to capture ideas, so a little explanation and they caught on quick.
A woman from the Black Tribe tilted her head.
"The ground... gives birth to food?"
"Look at fruit—they always grow in clusters. That's proof the earth bears food."
"Oh, I see!"
"Beyond that, if we catch the animals we hunt and raise them, they'll have babies."
"Like we beat our young ones?"
"...Yeah."
A flicker of confusion crossed my mind.
Technically, saying we "beat" kids gets the point across...
But do we have to phrase it that way?
We'd already dammed the river to trap water and devised fish poisoning to catch them easily inside.
Red Rock grinned with satisfaction after hearing all the explanations.
"If we stick to the plan, we'll survive!"
"Survive? We're going to keep advancing without end."
"We'll work hard!"
"Just give us the orders!"
The Black Tribe folk snorted with enthusiasm.
Humans instinctively make choices that favor survival.
When they see a real shot at it like this, the bodies of dead comrades get shoved to a back corner of the mind.
With the increased manpower, construction sped up noticeably.
The bumpy roads flattened out more, and the drainage ditches were widened and lengthened.
The earthen house walls climbed past waist height to chest level in just a few days.
In the southern alluvial plot, the familiar shapes of fields began to emerge.
That said, there were no autumn grains in this era, and with winter closing in, nothing to plant until spring—so we'd let it lie fallow till then.
Animal husbandry was off to a starting point, too.
A bit away from the settlement, we smeared a smokehouse with oil and scattered dried meat chunks nearby.
Of course, we set traps wherever the meat was.
Luck was on our side; we caught a few pairs of rabbits alive. We penned them in with a fence and rigged up rough burrows, and clumsy as it was, pasturing worked.
If our luck held, we'd get to watch the rabbit population explode.
The Black Tribe picked up our language fast.
We taught them primitive sign language, shield work, and group tactics, and they came to understand why they'd inevitably lost the war.
Training revealed each person's aptitude for specific weapons.
Eagle's Eye took two marksmen under his wing to hone archery, while Red Rock became vanguard leader and advisor.
Don't judge by appearances—the sharpest mind among the Black Tribe belonged to Red Rock.
A staff of advisors formed around Black Stone.
Surprisingly, they grasped group tactics concepts and debated optimal combos of bows, spears, and shields, even establishing a primitive strategy think tank(?).
Meanwhile, we steadily stockpiled firewood.
We mainly cut softwoods and ashes from the eastern woods.
It was fine for now, but as the tribe grew, we'd have to thin the entire forest systematically.
The felled timber went first to shields and spears, with the rest neatly stacked in storehouses or divvied up to homes.
Other than that...
Game was smoked or jerked the moment it was caught, same for fish.
Survival through spring looked no problem at all.
Until the ranger unit led by Eagle's Eye brought back their report.
The early winter winds finally battered the village.
Every breath fogged the air, heralding the brutal cold to come.
The settlement was starting to look lived-in.
A smokehouse and primitive workshop went up northwest, while the animal pens saw rabbits multiply to twenty.
Rabbits bred like, well, rabbits.
We culled steadily for food, but they humped at every chance. If they survived winter, we'd hit over a hundred by next year.
Animal husbandry was stirring to life ahead of farming.
For me, that alone was a stellar achievement.
The village was still under construction, but with the residential zone complete, quality of life had leaped to another level.
For this era, our hygiene was hardcore.
We pushed daily washing, teeth cleaning with salt, and forced showers after sweating.
I didn't know for sure, but this alone might slash the insane infant mortality rate.
Still, in a survival era, you can't bank on rosy futures alone.
One day, Eagle's Eye returned from scouting with a report.
"We found tiger scat."
"A tiger!?"
The whole tribe—even me—went pale.
"A tiger? Shouldn't we run!?"
'Damn it. A tiger, of all things.'
We'd lucked out with no predators around, but something worse than wolf packs was lurking nearby.
No scat till now meant it was probably migrating for richer hunting grounds.
Tigers ruled mountains from prehistoric times to the modern era.
Even in the Joseon dynasty, records told of yearly tiger plagues—proof of how rampant they were.
No rifle-toting tiger hunters here; in this age, they were true disasters.
The tribe's high spirits crashed. Folks started holing up, avoiding the outdoors altogether.
I gathered the strong ones under me (the cadres).
"We can't go on like this."
"You're right, Chieftain. But a tiger...? Eagle's Eye says it's a big one. No way to handle that."
The others nodded at Red Rock's words.
Big tiger meant tiger; small one, leopard.
Leopards could maybe be managed, but tigers? Only with insane luck.
I shook my head.
"We'll fortify the village first, then go tiger hunting. Our weapons are enough."
"The bows?"
"Yeah. Penetration's weak now, but after tweaks, we can take it. We're smart; it's just a dumb beast."
"......"
Calling primitives "smart" made my face burn a bit.
Anyway.
With their chieftain declaring it possible—and after witnessing countless miracles(?)—the primitives concluded the hunt was on.
"If we go hunting, the village will be exposed. Time to build a palisade."
"Palisade?"
An alien concept to them.
To nomads who moved seasonally, walls were a waste.
Typical small-to-medium tribes numbered 3 to 50.
Over 100 made you a big one—stopping hunts and foraging for walls was impossible.
But we were different.
"Yellow Hand!"
"Here!"
Yellow Hand was Whirlwind Tribe's official artist.
He recorded the blueprints I sketched whenever inspiration struck.
Not that he skipped hunts or war for it.
I envisioned an instant timber palisade.
Key was maximizing natural terrain.
Ditch thigh-deep for humans, 2-3 meters wide.
Pile the dug earth inward for a berm.
That made an isolated fortress.
Crossing a 2-3m moat? Easy with ladders.
In front of the outer ditch, lay tall trees horizontally—roots inward, branches outward—sharpen the tips.
Not just for beasts; it'd repel enemy warriors in war.
On the earthen berm, stake logs tightly (arm-span apart), brace with crossbeams inside and out for a grid.
Layer logs up for a full timber wall.
Char the wood for waterproofing and bug-proofing, done.
Could make it tougher with extras, but...
This would do for now.
I scanned the group after explaining.
"Questions?"
Red Rock muttered blankly.
"Y-You're really smart..."