I am a Primitive Man

Just like even the most selfless sunlight cannot reach every corner, the Semi-Farming Tribe, immersed in joy and celebration, also had places steeped in sorrow and despair.

The area where the Sheep Tribe's chief and its people were kept was cold and desolate, entirely out of place with the festive surroundings.

Exhaustion, fear, and hunger combined to leave them dispirited.

Many of their stomachs growled. Their hands and feet were bound, and they could only smell the scent of meat from afar while watching the cheerful Semi-Farming Tribe feasting around the bonfire. Hatred surged in many hearts.

That food was theirs!

They should have been the ones sitting around the fire, enjoying the meat with the old, young men, and women of their tribe.

But now, everything had changed with the appearance of these wretched people!

Not only had they lost all the food they had worked so hard to gather, but they had also been captured and brought here. What awaited them, they did not know.

The Sheep Tribe chief swallowed hard, forcing down the saliva he had struggled to produce. Using a voice he hadn't employed in a long time, he began to speak.

His voice was hoarse.

As he spoke, the members of the Sheep Tribe, who were held captive around him, gradually fell silent. Some felt a surge of determination; others were filled with dread.

The chief's message was simple: no matter what, they must not reveal the location of their tribe's cave.

Nor should they expose the biggest secret behind how they captured so many goats.

Even if it meant death, these things must never be revealed.

The chief had been holding these words in his heart for a long time. The leader of the other tribe had been loitering nearby earlier, so he hadn't dared speak. Now, there was an opening.

"!"

Just as the Sheep Tribe chief finished speaking, an unfamiliar voice echoed from a distance—one that neither he nor his people could understand.

It was a woman's voice.

Startled, the Sheep Tribe chief and others turned toward the source of the sound. They saw two people walking toward them.

Judging by the silhouettes, the strong one appeared to be the chief of the Semi-Farming Tribe. The voice, vaguely familiar, likely belonged to the respected woman of their tribe, possibly a priestess.

As the female priestess, holding a broken piece of pottery, began to speak, the Semi-Farming chief immediately strode over.

He questioned the two guards standing nearby, who were armed with wooden clubs, and asked who had just spoken. Then, full of rage, he walked up to the Sheep Tribe chief, yanked him from the ground—

—and smack! Smack! Struck him twice in front of everyone.

The chief cried out in pain, his body curling up from the blows.

The Semi-Farming priestess also walked over.

To the people of the Semi-Farming Tribe, this woman was wise and kind. But in this moment, there was not a trace of kindness in her.

She pointed at the trembling Sheep Tribe chief and turned to address the other captives, her mouth babbling in a language they didn't understand.

The Sheep Tribe members glanced between their beaten chief, the burly leader, and the seemingly ruthless priestess. Fear and fury filled their hearts, but they came to understand one thing:

Do not speak easily, or punishment will follow.

After repeating her earlier words several times, the priestess moved her hand from behind her back to in front of her body.

She held up the half-broken pottery bowl in her hand and asked the people of the Sheep Tribe how it was made or where it came from.

The Sheep Tribe chief and his people glared at the babbling woman with a mix of fear and hatred.

But no one spoke.

Just moments ago, their chief had been beaten simply for speaking. With that example before them, no one dared open their mouth.

The Semi-Farming priestess asked three more times, scanning every face. Still, no one responded. She spoke again to the Semi-Farming chief.

And then smack!—the burly chief struck the Sheep Tribe chief once more.

He doubled over again, groaning in pain.

Then the priestess waved the broken bowl in front of them, repeating her questions.

The atmosphere grew even more oppressive, thick with fear and tension.

The Sheep Tribe looked in terror at the woman, the Semi-Farming chief, and their own beaten leader—but still, no one spoke.

After waiting a little longer, the priestess spoke once more.

This time, the Semi-Farming chief threw the Sheep Tribe chief to the ground and grabbed another tribesman nearby. Smack! Smack!—two punches to the gut.

This one screamed far louder than the chief had.

The priestess shook the half-bowl again and repeated her question.

Terror now consumed the Sheep Tribe. They realized that silence would not protect them. If they kept quiet, not only the chief, but they too would be beaten!

Under this mounting fear, nearly every member of the Sheep Tribe turned their gaze to their chief, hoping he would somehow break them free from this nightmare.

But the chief, once their brave hunter and shepherd, could only glare—he had no solution.

The clever priestess of the Semi-Farming Tribe quickly grasped the real issue.

She spoke again to her chief, and the burly man dropped the last person he had beaten.

The Sheep Tribe thought another one of them was about to be punished—but instead, the chief grabbed their leader again, dragging him away to a place out of sight.

With their chief gone, the Sheep Tribe completely lost its backbone. Panic and fear filled their hearts.

The priestess continued to wave the broken bowl and repeat her questions.

After the Semi-Farming chief beat three more people, finally, someone broke.

The Sheep Tribe chief had only forbidden them from revealing the cave's location or the goat-capturing secret. He hadn't said anything about pottery or the Green Sparrow Tribe…

So, while enduring the accusing stares of his fellow tribesmen, one person justified it in his heart.

"#…Green Sparrow Tribe…"

In front of everyone, that person began to tell the origin of the pottery.

The Semi-Farming priestess listened intently, even though she couldn't understand their language.

When the man finished speaking, she had a steaming bowl of savory meat soup brought over—and in full view of the Sheep Tribe, allowed him to eat it.