Chapter Forty: You Should Have a Thousand Children Together

This would be a historic moment, a time to be recorded in the annals of the “Mountain Cave People,” and Luo Zu couldn’t help but feel a bit excited. Ironhead had brought the deputy captain of the second hunting squad, eagerly recounting their experience to Luo Zu.

“You’re saying there are thirty-eight of them?” Luo Zu, after his initial excitement, couldn’t help but feel a bit skeptical. The number was simply too large.

In the days when the previous generation of the “Mountain Cave People” had crossed mountains and forests, fewer than a hundred had survived. Through hardship and perseverance, their numbers slowly grew, and only now had the population reached five hundred ninety-eight. With just two more, they would reach six hundred.

Luo Zu understood better than anyone the hardships endured, for he had accompanied the “Mountain Cave People” every step of the way. As for these thirty-eight newcomers, their origins were a mystery.

Their journey must have been arduous, likely with many losses along the way; they probably started out with more people. For a social group of thirty-eight to make it through the perilous wilderness, they had to be formidable.

Luo Zu wasn’t worried about being usurped; after all, his own people were many, and they all supported him. Besides, his own strength left him unafraid of challenges from these “outsider savages.” What concerned him more were cultural issues—a group like this might not have developed civilization, but the knowledge they carried, possible diseases, and unfamiliar perspectives could bring great changes to the tribe.

He also wondered if the hunting squad had miscounted.

“You haven’t communicated with them yet?” Luo Zu asked.

“Not yet,” the deputy captain replied loudly, swelling with pride.

Yet this was hardly something to boast about. Luo Zu had instructed them not to act rashly if they encountered other humans, but there was no need to treat his words as sacred, as though following his orders made them heroes.

Luo Zu nodded, and the deputy captain puffed out his chest even more.

“Let’s go see for ourselves,” Luo Zu said. He was a man of action; since the decision was made, there was no point in waiting around.

Under the deputy captain’s guidance, a large group set off. The entire second squad, about thirty-two people, assembled.

Luo Zu slung his trademark “Great Severer” across his back, ready for any sudden incident. If trouble arose, the “Great Severer” would sweep all before it.

Everyone was agile, and their speed was naturally swift, but even so, they ran for an hour—this wilderness was truly vast.

The hunting range of the “Mountain Cave People” had now expanded to cover a radius of one hundred fifty li. Once they finished exploring every corner of this area, they would push out to two hundred li.

“Chief, they’re right over there,” the deputy captain pointed ahead.

Between the shadows and dappled sunlight, three “Mountain Cave People” clung to an ancient tree, keeping watch.

Ahead lay a small valley where a group of people had set up camp. But to call it a camp was generous—they simply lay on the ground, the sky for their blanket, the earth for their bed.

Luo Zu, upon seeing them, didn’t rush forward. Indeed, there were thirty-eight, as the deputy captain had counted, but they bore fresh wounds, blood still dripping, some even missing limbs. Clearly, their injuries were new.

This made Luo Zu cautious—better to observe first.

He watched their auras. The most powerful presence belonged to a woman crouched at the edge of the valley’s pond, drinking. The attention of the others, to varying degrees, was focused on her. It wasn’t just her looks—though she was striking, like a wild rose atop a mountain. Her presence was fierce and untamed, inspiring not desire but submission.

Luo Zu glanced at his tribesmen—their eyes narrowed, pupils contracted, fixed on her.

“She’s the mother of my child—or rather, the mother of my future child.”

“She’s mine as well.”

“Me, me, me…”

Excitement, barely kept to a whisper, spread through the underbrush.

In these primordial times, no one would say they wanted to be someone’s dog. It was simply a matter of dominance and possession, with no barriers between men and women—all for the sake of survival and the continuation of the tribe.

Everyone sought the best. Even now, the women of the tribe hadn’t given up on Luo Zu.

As for Luo Zu, he didn’t know how to evaluate this woman—he was simply awe-struck. She had a broad chest for nursing infants, which could also serve as armor against mortal wounds. Her body was forged like steel, her talents far surpassing others—traits Luo Zu admired.

But admiration was all. This woman ruled the remaining thirty-seven with her strength and presence.

Of the thirty-seven, seven were women, yet all followed her lead. She was ambitious and shrewd.

“Um…” the deputy captain raised his hand.

“What is it?” asked Luo Zu.

Everyone looked to him, curious about his insight.

“I saw her first. She’s mine,” the deputy captain blurted out, rather shamelessly.

As the others began to argue, Luo Zu silenced them with a soft snort.

“You fools, she belongs to the chief. The two strongest should have a thousand children together,” Ironhead muttered gloomily.

“Isn’t that right, chief?” He turned, flashing Luo Zu a broad grin.

Luo Zu ignored their chatter; he could already foresee the chaos this woman would bring to the tribe.

“Wait a bit longer.”

Suddenly, strange cries echoed from the distance, like a flock of crows approaching.

Caw, caw, caw!

“They’re coming! Get ready!” The woman at the pond, gulping water moments before, now raised her massive bone club and shouted.

The wounded, resting on the ground, sprang up, each grabbing their weapons, holding their breath, ready to unleash their innate powers.

Then, the sky darkened.

A cacophony of shrill bird calls filled the air, piercing enough to split eardrums and leave the mind reeling. Any delay in reaction could mean death.

And who would be the killer?

A swarm of mosquito-like creatures, each the size of a crow, now circled above Luo Zu’s head.

Why did the mosquitoes sound like birds? This was the primordial world—anything was possible.

How many were there? Luo Zu couldn’t say.

Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Perhaps.

But whatever the number, Luo Zu and his people were no longer bystanders.

They had been discovered by the swarm of crow-sized mosquitoes.