The chieftain of the Sheep Tribe lay curled up on the ground, his body twitching from time to time. His neck was stretched as far as it could go, and he struggled to glance toward both sides of the Semi-Farming Tribe.
He wasn’t thinking about escaping, but instead looking toward the other members of his tribe who had been captured along with him.
Unfortunately, they had all been separated. Even with his neck stretched to its limit, to the point that both his neck and half of his body ached, he still couldn’t catch sight of his people.
The chieftain of the Sheep Tribe was extremely anxious.
When he saw that wicked old woman holding a freshly skinned sheepskin, heading with the equally wicked chief toward the place where his tribespeople were imprisoned, the relative calm he had felt that morning vanished completely.
Especially after he heard the pained cries that followed—it tore at his heart.
On one hand, he was angry and heartbroken that his people were being beaten; on the other, he was deeply worried they might reveal the secret of the sheep or the affairs of their tribe to these devils.
If that happened, those left behind in his tribe would be in grave danger.
In this uncertainty, the two man and woman who had entered that strange dwelling earlier emerged again. The wicked woman still held the sheepskin in her hand.
This discovery brought the Sheep Tribe’s chieftain a small measure of relief.
It likely meant that those two wicked people had failed to get any information from his tribespeople.
While he was stretching his neck and guessing wildly, the female priestess and the chief of the Semi-Farming Tribe began walking toward him.
This first made the Sheep Tribe chieftain nervous, but then he relaxed. He had already made up his mind that no matter what, he would not reveal the two secrets.
If these two wicked people questioned him, it would be better than asking the others—at least he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else revealing the truth.
Half-lying on the ground, the Sheep Tribe chieftain bit his lip and firmly resolved to stay silent.
However, to his surprise, the two didn’t question him at all this time. Instead, they directly pulled him up and began dragging him away.
This unexpected turn of events left him flustered.
He wanted to struggle, but with his hands and feet bound, and with thirst and hunger having drained all his strength, he was powerless. Add to that the sheer strength of the Semi-Farming Tribe’s chief, and his resistance was utterly futile.
He was dragged to the livestock pen of the Semi-Farming Tribe, where wooden stakes were driven into the ground, used for tethering animals.
Once there, the chieftain was propped up and placed with his back against one of the stakes. With the help of two others, he was tightly bound to it.
At first, he was confused and didn’t know what these wicked people intended.
But once he was tied to the stake, fear gripped him.
He suddenly remembered a long-ago slaughter he had witnessed outside the walls of the Green Sparrow Tribe.
The chieftain of the Bone Tribe, who had attacked the Green Sparrow Tribe, had been tied up just , then beheaded—blow after blow—by the Green Sparrow Tribe’s chief using a bone knife.
And now, he was tied up the same way…
At this thought, the Sheep Tribe chieftain couldn’t help but tremble.
He had never been a brave man, and now, facing his death, he was utterly terrified.
He also had doubts in his heart. The Bone Tribe chieftain had been killed because he led an attack on the wealthy and powerful Green Sparrow Tribe.
But he hadn’t attacked this tribe. It was his people who had been robbed.
His tribe had suffered—yet now they wanted to kill him?
While his mind was spiraling, the priestess and chieftain of the Semi-Farming Tribe began giving orders. Members of the tribe began to put down their tasks and gathered near the livestock pen.
At the same time, under the chief’s command, many people went to untie the bound and numb-limbed captives from the Sheep Tribe. Then, wielding weapons, they herded them toward the livestock pen.
The Sheep Tribe members walked over step by step in fear. When they saw their chieftain tied to the stake, they initially felt some relief, as if they had found their backbone.
But when they saw the chieftain’s current condition, many of them were filled with renewed dread.
Once everyone had arrived, the priestess of the Semi-Farming Tribe came over with the sheepskin in hand, alongside the chief.
The burly chief held something embedded in wood—a weapon that could only be described as a dagger.
Behind them followed two women of the Semi-Farming Tribe. They carried a pot of freshly stewed mutton and some wild fruits.
The women placed the food in front of the chieftain and the Sheep Tribe members, then withdrew to stand with the others.
Even though he was consumed by fear, the scent of mutton soup still wafted into the Sheep Tribe chieftain’s nose, making his hunger unbearable.
Before everyone’s eyes, the female priestess of the Semi-Farming Tribe raised the sheepskin again and repeated the same line she had said numerous times that morning.
But this time, she was addressing the chieftain directly.
After speaking, she pointed to the pot of mutton soup, and then to the bone dagger held by the chief.
Even without a common language, her meaning was crystal clear to the chieftain and his people.
The Sheep Tribe chieftain trembled all over. If not for being tied to the stake, he might have collapsed then and there.
His eyes were fixed on the bone dagger in the chief’s hand, and his gaze was filled with pure terror.
Seeing this, the priestess of the Semi-Farming Tribe smiled faintly to herself.
She knew the chieftain of this tribe couldn’t hold out under such pressure. Once he gave in, the rest would be easy.