Chapter 198

The 198th Tribe

In a dense forest somewhere, a small path winds forward, with the smell of bl**d permeating the air. At this moment, a tragic scene was unfolding on the path.

On the road between the shrubs, a freight carriage had overturned, spilling its cargo. Seven or eight soldiers in matching attire, red coats and black hats, lay dead around the carriage, their eyes wide open, arrows and javelins piercing their bodies, staining their clothes and seeping into the soil.

On the other side of the soldiers’ bodies, slightly away from the carriage, there were several more corpses dressed in work clothes, resembling workers. They all had arrows in their backs, suggesting they were killed while trying to escape.

Around the scene of the tragedy, several figures stood, markedly different in appearance compared to the corpses lying on the ground.

Unlike the elaborate uniforms worn by the soldiers, these people wore rough linen garments, some long, some short, some like robes, others like short shirts. The clothes were adorned with simple abstract patterns that could be recognized as various animals, with tassels at the edges.

These were all young men, with tan skin and black hair. Many had their hair braided neatly and tied behind them, and some had headbands with colorful feathers. Their faces were painted with unknown pigments in various battle marks.

One tall man among them, bare-chested with a wild buffalo tattoo on his back, scanned the bloody scene before him and then spoke in a deep voice to his companions around him.

“This is another victory; we successfully ambushed another White-skinned Demon convoy. Without the guidance of the spirits of the wild, they are weak in the wilderness. Do not fear past failures.

“Under the watchful eye of the Great Soul, we will take revenge. Let these demons pay the price with their bl**d! We will drive them out, one by one!”

“Ooh ooh ooh!!!”

The man shouted loudly. Listening to his words, those around him raised their weapons, bursting into enthusiastic cheers. Among them, only a young man with disheveled black hair, wearing an eagle-patterned shirt, silently gazed into the distance at the workers’ corpses with arrows in their backs.

The young man did not join in the celebration. His silence caught the attention of the leader, who turned to him and said, “Kapak, do you have any questions? I saw your brave fight earlier, killing at least two White-skinned Demons. Why don’t you celebrate?”

Hearing the leader’s words, the young man named Kapak paused slightly before pointing solemnly toward the fallen workers and speaking.

“Sado, why did you k*ll them? They were not warriors and had given up resistance. You signaled them to leave but shot them from behind. This breaks our promise.”

“We have no promises to keep with these foreigners. I didn’t say anything to them; I just waved my hand. That’s not a promise,” replied the man named Sado. Kapak frowned and continued, “But shouldn’t we spare those who are no longer warriors and have given up fighting? We have already won, haven’t we?”

“Victory? No, Kapak, victory alone is not enough. I want more than just victory; I want more bl**d from these White-skinned Demons. They have killed hundreds of us, and I won’t rest until we k*ll them in even greater numbers.”

Looking at the pile of corpses, Sado clenched his teeth and said, while Kapak responded gravely, “Listen, Sado, I was once captured and made a slave in their city. I worked in their factories and plantations. To be honest, the White-skins treat each other just as harshly.

“That group of beasts forces their lower classes to work day and night in dark, filthy factories, where many d*e from overwork. After I killed the factory owner and distributed the money to the workers, they helped me escape from pursuit. With their help, I returned to our tribe. Those workers, like us, were victims of oppression.”

Kapak explained to Sado, who then impatiently retorted, “Enough! I don’t care about their differences. I know they are the wicked invaders from across the sea. They k*ll our people and take our land. All I want is their bl**d—hundreds of times over!

“Remember, Kapak, you are a warrior of the Tupa Tribe. You are not allowed to speak for the White-skinned Demons. This time, I’ll let you off, but if you do it again, I will punish you!”

Sado sternly pointed at Kapak. Hearing this, Kapak was momentarily stunned and remained silent.

“Alright, now clean up the battlefield. Bring back only food and the fire sticks. Everything else should be left behind!” Sado ordered.

Everyone around began to collect the spoils of war, focusing on food and firearms. The Tupa Tribe warriors started to gather and transport the items. Kapak, who had been reprimanded, joined in the effort.

As Kapak reached for a firearm, he flipped over a soldier’s corpse and noticed something underneath.

It was a book, a small blue-covered booklet. Thin and small, about the size of a palm, it seemed more like a booklet than a proper book.

Seeing this booklet, Kapak’s heart stirred. He casually flipped through it and noticed something. Looking around, he discreetly picked it up and hid it in his clothes.

After cleaning the battlefield, the squad returned home. They used the surviving horses from the convoy to carry the loaded goods across the wilderness for three or four hours. Finally, in the afternoon, they arrived at the Tupa Tribe’s camp.

Amidst the enthusiastic welcome of the crowd, the squad entered the vast camp made up of numerous tents and huts. Many people, similar in appearance and dress, came to greet them—men, women, old, and young, most of them emaciated and weary-looking. Under everyone’s attention, Sado loudly recounted their “hunt” story and how many White-skinned Demons they had killed.

After the squad dispersed, Kapak immediately hurried back to his own tent.

In the dim tent, Kapak looked around and approached his bed, opening a wooden box beside it.

A pocket watch, a watch, a pistol, a small statue, a cane, a glass bottle, a top hat… Inside the box were industrial artifacts, all of which were Kapak’s collection. His experiences in the city had piqued his interest in the advanced civilization that had invaded their homeland from across the sea.

Though Kapak hated the invaders, he was fascinated by their endless stream of industrial products, unlike most of his tribesmen. Under Sado’s leadership, the entire tribe generally rejected industrial products, except for firearms, which were too powerful to refuse.

After rummaging through the box, Kapak took out a kerosene lamp, lit it, and illuminated the tent. Then, he sat on his bed and took out the booklet he had hidden earlier. It contained drawings and writing he couldn’t understand.

The booklet seemed to be a comic book, with one drawing after another sketched in black ink. The characters appeared to be telling a story, but Kapak couldn’t understand the dialogue written next to them. Nonetheless, he found it fascinating.

Gradually, Kapak finished reading the comic book. On the last blank page, he saw a single letter, handwritten, unlike the printed ones.

This was a Prit letter, meaning “knowledge.”