Chronicles of Primitive Civilization’s Growth

Chapter 4: Establishing Initial Authority

Luo Chong crept forward, crouching low behind the bushes as he slowly approached the terror bird.

Crawling was out of the question; after all, he was stark naked. Crawling would only risk chafing his privates. The thought brought a wave of melancholy to Luo Chong, and he knew addressing the clothing issue was urgent.

The terror bird remained unaware of Luo Chong’s presence, still feasting on the chief’s remains. Unbeknownst to it, a former feared warrior had set its sights on it.

Luo Chong stopped when he reached about five or six meters away from the terror bird. He wouldn’t dare approach it directly. Running across open ground against a terror bird was foolish—humans couldn’t even outrun ostriches. All he needed to do was lure the bird closer. After all, slingshots were designed for long-range attacks.

He first positioned the sling, finding the midpoint of the snake skin rope. Luo Chong then quietly stood up and began spinning the sling rapidly, causing the stones to whirl. Under the influence of centrifugal force, the ropes instantly tightened. The terror bird immediately heard the commotion, lifting its head to look at Luo Chong.

The women and children at the cave entrance watched anxiously, thinking that this reckless youth was insane. Barely taller than the bird’s legs, what could he possibly hope to achieve?

“Hey! You big thing, come over here!”

Luo Chong alternated his hands, rapidly twirling the sling. The speed increased, tightening the snake skin like a stick, giving the impression from afar of Sun Wukong spinning his golden hoop staff.

With a screech, the terror bird charged toward Luo Chong. Standing over three meters tall, its legs were longer than Luo Chong himself. Despite its size, it moved swiftly, covering half the distance in an instant. Yet Luo Chong remained steadfast, continuing to spin the sling.

At the cave entrance, his companions screamed in fear, covering their eyes with their hands but peeking through the gaps, torn between terror and curiosity. Pregnant women shouted for Luo Chong to run.

Luo Chong didn’t flee. When the terror bird was thirty meters away, he suddenly threw the sling forward. It spun through the air like a fan without its axis, aimed low.

The two stones, accompanied by the snake skin, quickly entangled the bird’s legs. Pulled taut by the stones’ momentum, the snake skin constricted, binding the bird’s legs together. Losing balance just ten meters away from Luo Chong, the bird crashed down, sliding another five meters before stopping right in front of him.

On the ground, the terror bird squawked wildly, flapping its tiny wings in vain, unable to rise.

The women and children at the cave entrance stared in disbelief, mouths agape, unable to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Had they been modern people, they might have exclaimed, “Holy crap, is this even possible?”

This wasn’t the time for boasting. Luo Chong quickly circled around to the bird’s rear, tying a knot in the snake skin to prevent the bird from freeing itself. Now secure, he had successfully captured the terror bird alive.

Had his brothers been present, they would have cheered, “Boss, you’re awesome!” But reflecting on his current state—completely naked except for a makeshift loincloth—Luo Chong lost any desire to show off. There was nothing impressive about this situation; even his dignity had flown away.

Scanning the surroundings, all he saw was yellow earth and shrubs, not a single large stone in sight. He returned to the cave entrance, picked up the cobblestone he had used earlier to make baskets, and prepared to use it to end the bird’s life.

Luo Chong decided not to keep the bird. Taming such a carnivorous giant was impossible, so killing it for meat seemed the better option.

Two braver boys, seeing the bird incapacitated, also gathered courage, each carrying a stone to follow Luo Chong. Without speaking, Luo Chong nodded for them to follow, leading them to the bird’s head.

The terror bird continued to squawk and struggle, flapping its small wings and trying to peck at them. The two boys hesitated, unsure of what to do. Luo Chong motioned for them to watch, then raised the stone and smashed it onto the bird’s head. Blood splattered everywhere, covering all three of them.

The bird wasn’t dead yet, but it was dazed, its struggles weakening significantly. Likely suffering from cerebral hemorrhage, it wouldn’t last much longer.

Inspired by the bloodshed, the two boys also raised their stones and struck the bird’s head. Two more thuds, and the bird finally ceased moving. Luo Chong carefully checked, then smashed the bird’s skull again to ensure it was truly dead, preventing any chance of it faking death or retaliating.

Don’t think this precaution was unnecessary. Animals are born with the ability to play dead, and if you’re not careful, they can revive and escape right before your eyes. This was a habit Luo Chong had developed during his past missions—always confirming the target’s death.

The two boys looked at Luo Chong with newfound respect but remained silent. They were capable of speech—their vocal cords and tongues fully functional, as evidenced by Luo Chong’s ability to speak.

Luo Chong removed the snake skin from the bird’s legs, rewrapping it around his buttocks, and retrieved the stones. Pointing at the bird, he said “terror bird” and instructed the boys to repeat it. Obediently following his lead, they learned to pronounce it correctly after several repetitions. As long as they reviewed regularly, they wouldn’t forget.

Now behaving like loyal followers, the two boys helped Luo Chong drag the bird toward the cave. Seeing the trio return with such a massive prey, the other children couldn’t stay inside any longer. They rushed out, dragging the bird into the cave. A few children around five or six years old also retrieved the stones Luo Chong had used for the sling.

Under the midday sun, a teenage boy wearing a triangular snake skin loincloth led a group of naked children dragging a colossal terror bird. A three-year-old girl even rode atop the bird, shouting excitedly. What should have been a triumphant return now appeared utterly absurd.

Too vulgar.

A few women pushed the heavy stone blocking the cave entrance aside, smiling broadly to welcome the children back. This was the tribe’s first successful capture of such a large prey.

From the edge of the forest, two adult men hiding in the trees had witnessed Luo Chong’s entire solo hunt. Impressed by his actions, they realized that while three of them barely managed to steal an egg and lost one of their own, Luo Chong, a mere child, had captured a terror bird alone. They felt genuine admiration.

Primitive people didn’t harbor complex thoughts—they simply revered strength.

The two men descended from the tree, bringing back the chief’s mutilated body. The women and children didn’t say much but kept their distance. There were no tears or cries; death was far too common for them.

In primitive tribes, adult males were scarce for a reason. They were the primary hunters, often encountering dangerous wild beasts without proper weapons. Returning with the same number who left in the morning was already cause for celebration. Humans were not yet at the top of the food chain, and survival was incredibly difficult.