Chapter 117: Chapter 117: Enticement
In the early afternoon, while Asher’s group was playing cards together, Weston led his people over, bringing their supplies.
Sorin took a quick glance and felt that this tribe was so poor they even brought rocks to trade.
Weston scratched his head awkwardly and said: "This is all we have. Can you see if we can trade for anything?"
Asher nodded, signaling his team members to set up a table so Weston could place his tribe’s items on it. He pulled up a chair and sat down, carefully examining each item one by one. They were all miscellaneous knick-knacks with absolutely no practical value. Asher’s gaze stopped on a shiny black rock with somewhat sharp edges.
He picked up the rock to inspect it, then tried swiping a finger across it. His fair hand quickly turned pitch black. Seeing this, Weston wished he could bury his head right into the ground. Unexpectedly, Asher turned to Sorin and said:
"Sorin, bring me the third book in my stack."
Sorin quickly brought the book over, saying: "Your hands are dirty, let me turn the pages for you. Tell me when to stop."
Weston looked at the book in Sorin’s hands. Seeing Sorin brazenly open it right in front of him, Weston hastily lowered his eyes, not daring to look anymore. Dear Beast God, books were knowledge; they were not something his people were allowed to look at casually.
"Here it is, stop." Asher told Sorin to stop at the thirty-seventh page of the book, then raised the black rock in his hand, rotating it in all directions to compare. Sorin exclaimed in surprise:
"Wow, it’s exactly the same. Coal... Coal?!"
The Crimson tribe baked bricks using peat and grilled food using charcoal; naturally, they knew perfectly well how good coal was. Asher glared at Sorin, telling Sorin to reign in the joyful expression on his face. He calmly set the lump of coal down, then continued to examine the other items as if nothing had happened.
After finishing the inspection, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Aside from the coal, there was nothing of value. Asher let out a sigh and said to Weston:
"Among the items you brought, only this type of rock is usable. Do you have a lot of it left?"
Hearing that the black rock he had stuffed in could be traded for goods, the red fox beastman immediately spoke up instead of Weston: "Yes, there’s a lot left. Can we trade them for salt?"
Weston sharply turned his head and glared at him. The red fox beastman immediately covered his own mouth, lowering his head and not daring to utter another squeak. Asher didn’t show any reaction to the fox beastman’s behavior, only glancing at Weston. How amusing; over in Crimson, if someone dared to interrupt the Chief like that, they would definitely be beaten into a meat patty by Sane.
Weston blushed and scratched his cheek: "Um... how do we trade for this?"
Asher leisurely washed his hands with the water Sorin brought over, saying: "This thing is very good, but it’s very heavy; we can’t carry it away."
The people of the Eldoria tribe immediately became crestfallen. To put it bluntly, it meant they couldn’t trade for anything.
At this moment, Asher spoke again: "However, we can discuss another way. Chief Weston, are you interested in sitting down to talk?"
"Sure!" Weston immediately agreed.
Sorin brought another chair for Weston to sit down, then very consciously retreated at least five paces. Asher looked at the group of Eldoria tribe beastmen still crowding around Weston and couldn’t help but frown. He spoke up:
"This place isn’t very suitable; do you want to sit inside my tent for a while?"
Weston scratched his head, intending to refuse. The little orange mouse immediately jumped from another clansman’s shoulder to Weston’s shoulder, whispering: "The kind brother is angry."
Weston was slightly stunned, as if not understanding why Asher was suddenly angry. He hastily agreed to go into the tent with Asher. Right as the two went inside, Sorin and another guard immediately blocked the Eldoria tribe crowd. Before that, Sorin didn’t forget to pluck the little orange mouse right off Weston’s shoulder and bring it outside.
At this moment, only Weston and Asher remained in the tent. Weston was so tense that his toes practically dug a shallow hole in the dirt.
Asher poured him a cup of tea and took a sip himself before speaking up: "It seems you just became the Chief recently, right?"
Weston blanked out slightly, subconsciously answering: "That’s right, how did you know?"
Asher didn’t answer, shifting to the topic he wanted to discuss.
"The black stuff you brought is called coal; it’s very heavy. With the current mountainous dirt roads, there is absolutely no way to transport large quantities. If we carry it away basket by basket on our backs, it would be too much effort. I want to build a road from Crimson to Eldoria to facilitate the transportation."
"If you agree, then we will leave behind a full month’s worth of supplies as an upfront deposit. Once our tribe finishes building the road, we will use the remaining supplies to haul the coal back. Your task during this time is to mine enough coal to match the amount of supplies we need. What do you think?"
Weston crumpled the hem of his animal skin shirt and said: "This... I have to go back and ask for my clansmen’s opinions first..."
"You are the Chief, Weston." Asher interrupted Weston: "In a tribe, the Chief’s word is an absolute command."
The Chief could listen to the clansmen’s presentations, but the final decision lay with the Chief; he couldn’t fail to make a final decision just because a few clansmen objected.
Weston was slightly dazed, then as if coming to a realization, bowed his head deeply. He also realized why Asher had suddenly gotten angry earlier. It was because of the boundary-crossing behavior of the Eldoria clansmen, who didn’t give him—the Chief—the bare minimum of respect.
"I... our previous Chief passed away suddenly without leaving any heirs. Because I am the strongest beastman in the tribe, everyone pushed me into this position. Up until now, no one has ever taught me how to be a Chief."
Asher’s finger traced a circle along the rim of the porcelain cup, staring straight at Weston’s lowered head, feeling the boundless helplessness of this Fox clan beastman. Weston said he was the strongest beastman in Eldoria, but Asher saw that Weston was an entire size skinnier than the other clansmen. This proved that during his time as Chief, he had been giving up his own food for his clansmen.
Prey was quite scarce in winter, and in early spring, the prey was too skinny, barely yielding a few ounces of meat. But now at least a month had passed; prey was plentiful, and the vegetation was diverse. By right, they shouldn’t have let themselves starve to this extent.
Asher asked softly: "Is it that your tribe doesn’t have any strong beastmen?"
Weston stiffened, his lips turning slightly pale. He had clearly observed Asher’s team; even a Sub-Beast looked stronger than him, the strongest beastman in his tribe. If Asher’s group had malicious intentions, then what would their tribe do?
"I have a way to help you all live without needing to worry; it just depends on whether you dare to make a sacrifice or not." Asher picked up the tea, took a sip, and said leisurely: "Give up the position of Chief, abandon the name Eldoria, and join our Crimson."
Weston shot up to his feet, glaring at Asher with furious eyes. Asher didn’t wait for him to retort and continued speaking:
"I am only proposing this out of pity for your tribe; joining our Crimson isn’t easy at all. The surrounding tribes are all fighting to join Crimson, but even now, they are still just working as hired labor for our tribe."
"Don’t misunderstand the difference between hired labor and slaves. By using your labor, you can be paid corresponding wages; whatever our tribe has, you will also have. Furthermore, no one will beat you or force you to work. You work as much as your stamina allows, with absolutely no coercion. With weak strength like your tribe’s, it’s not even certain you could compete for hired labor spots against other tribes."
"However, if I put in a word, it’s a different story. My words carry some weight in the Crimson tribe. With my guarantee, your chances of successfully joining Crimson are extremely high."
Weston was made dizzy by Asher’s barrage of words. Asher raised the teacup to his mouth to drink, hiding his smirking lips. Even those shrewd, experienced Chiefs from the other tribes had been tricked by him until they were dizzy, packing up their belongings to come work as hired labor in Crimson. This silly fox only needed a few sweet words, and he would certainly be scammed by Asher until not even his underpants were left.
Sure enough, after hearing Asher’s series of arrogant words, Weston began to consider this matter. Truthfully, their tribe was about to starve to death; things like dignity were no longer important at all. If they could genuinely go to Crimson to work as hired labor, then he wouldn’t have to worry about his clansmen starving to death anymore.
As for this position of Chief, Weston wasn’t greedy for it. He was already very tired.
Weston smelled the fragrant meat outside, then looked at the faintly fragrant floral teacup in front of him, his inner thoughts wavering slightly. He said hesitantly: "Um... our tribe only has the Mouse clan and the small Cat clan; we can’t shoulder heavy responsibilities. Following you, I’m just afraid we’ll be a hindrance..."
Asher laughed brightly: "Even a Sub-Beast without a shred of combat power like me dares to step outside; could it be that you guys don’t dare?"
Being mocked by a Sub-Beast, Weston was naturally unresigned. In a moment of hot-headedness, he slammed the table and yelled: "We’ll go then! You think I’m afraid of you?"
"Then isn’t it settled?" Asher raised an eyebrow and said: "Then we can just skip the coal mining matter; you just need to mark the location so Crimson’s people can come mine it. Now I will give you two choices: one, lead the entire tribe to follow my merchant caravan down south, which will take about two months; two, head straight from here to Crimson, and I will dispatch people to escort you there."
Weston thought for a moment, no longer saying things like going back to ask his clansmen’s opinions, and made the decision right then: "We want to head straight to Crimson."
Asher nodded in satisfaction, saying: "Very good, then you go back and lead everyone over here. We will stay here tonight to eat, drink, and rest to regain our strength, and we will depart tomorrow."
When Weston stepped out of the tent, his mind was still a bit hazy.
So... had he just sold himself and his clansmen?
