The next day, snow pellets, swept by the wind, rustled against John’s bearskin, but it didn’t distract him in the slightest.
He stood on the cleared ground in front of the cave, his feet planted firmly on the frozen earth, shoulder-width apart, as if nailed down.
His arms slowly rose, then fell heavily.
Each flexion and extension tensed his coiled muscles, like sinews twisted within an old tree trunk.
His stone axe rested against a nearby pine tree, its blade reflecting the morning light.
It still bore the shallow marks from splitting the wolf last time—a badge of honor as the Tribe’s strongest Hunter.
But at this moment, this badge made his heart heavy.
The surrounding Tribesmen had already gathered, three layers deep.
Even Old Man Ku Mu, the eldest, was helped to sit on a stone slab, his cloudy eyes fixed on the center of the arena.
Yuna stood in the front row of the crowd, clutching a piece of freshly tanned soft leather, her knuckles white from gripping it.
She hadn’t slept well last night, constantly thinking about John’s wrestling match with Alex.
John could lift a bearskin bag full of beast meat with one hand, and cleave a tree trunk as thick as a bowl with one stone axe.
Though Alex was clever, when it came to strength, ten of him might not be a match for one John.
“A He, do you think Alex can win?”
A little girl standing beside Yuna whispered, still clutching half a piece of dried grilled fish left from yesterday, which Alex had shared with her.
A He bit his dried fish, his small brows furrowed:
“Alex can definitely win!
He can even make fire and weave fish traps to catch fish.
He must have a way to deal with Chief John!”
Despite saying so, his small hands secretly clenched, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on Alex’s figure.
Alex was squatting at the edge of the arena, slowly flexing his ankles.
He didn’t tense his muscles like John, but merely gently rotated his wrists and stretched his arms.
His movements were as calm as if he were preparing for a walk, not a contest to determine the leadership of the Tribe.
Mark squatted beside him, offering a piece of warm roasted meat:
“Alex, eat more, you’ll need the strength later.
That guy John didn’t even fall behind when he wrestled a black bear last time.
You must be careful!”
Alex took the roasted meat and bit into it, the aroma of meat mixed with the char of the charcoal spreading in his mouth.
He looked at John, who was still warming up not far away, and a slight smile played on his lips:
“I don’t need to compete with him in strength.
Mark, do you remember last time when we were weaving fish traps, you kept weaving the vines crooked at first?
Then I taught you to follow the grain of the vine, and wasn’t it much easier?”
Mark paused, then nodded:
“I remember!
Weaving along the grain is not only faster but also sturdier!
But wrestling isn’t like weaving fish traps, John’s strength…”
“The principle is the same.”
Alex interrupted him, his gaze falling on John’s left leg.
When John warmed up just now, his left leg always landed a fraction lighter than his right, and the bearskin at his knee was slightly wrinkled, as if deliberately concealing something.
“He has an old injury on his left leg.
He was scratched by a wolf’s claw during the fight with the wolf last time, right?”
Mark’s eyes lit up: “Yes!
I even helped him bandage it back then.
I can’t believe you still remember!”
Alex smiled, said no more, just stuffed the remaining roasted meat into his mouth, and slowly stood up.
The Old Shaman, leaning on his wooden staff carved with a sun totem, walked to the center of the arena.
His cloudy eyes swept over the two, his voice, though soft, carried an undeniable authority:
“The rules of the Flame Stone Tribe for wrestling matches are only about winning or losing; no one is allowed to be fatally harmed.
Whoever is thrown down first, supporting themselves with both hands and unable to stand up, loses.”
His wooden staff tapped the frozen earth three times, “Thump, thump, thump,” each sound like a drumbeat on the Tribesmen’s hearts.
John suddenly looked up, his gaze like a hawk locking onto Alex, and strode into the arena.
He was nearly a head taller than Alex; when his shadow fell, it almost enveloped Alex entirely.
“Alex, I’ll ask you one more time,”
his voice was deep, like muffled thunder beneath the frozen earth,
“if you’re scared, it’s not too late to concede now.
I won’t let the Tribesmen laugh at you.”
Alex also walked into the arena, standing three paces away from John.
He looked at John’s tense face and shook his head seriously:
“John, I’m not afraid of you, nor am I trying to contend with you for anything.
I just want everyone to know that protecting the Tribe, there’s more than just ‘brute force’ as a method.”
As soon as his voice fell, John suddenly moved.
He didn’t shout a slogan or make any superfluous movements; he just stomped his feet hard on the ground, making the frozen earth crackle.
He charged at Alex’s shoulder like a pouncing black bear. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
His speed was astonishing; when his arms spread, they could block half the light in the arena.
The calluses on his palms turned white from exertion.
For this pounce, he used seventy percent of his strength.
If it were a normal prey, it would have been pinned to the ground, unable to move.
The surrounding Tribesmen gasped, and Yuna instinctively covered her mouth.
Mark clenched his fists, silently urging, “Dodge quickly.”
Alex, however, didn’t panic.
He had been watching John’s footwork.
Seeing John’s left leg push off first, he knew John’s center of gravity was biased to the right, and his body abruptly slid to the left, like a leaf blown by the wind, narrowly avoiding John’s arm.
John’s momentum couldn’t be stopped; he lunged into empty air, stumbling forward two steps before regaining his balance, his back perfectly facing Alex.
“Good!” Mark couldn’t help but shout, and the surrounding Tribesmen also let out a sigh of relief.
John turned around, a hint of surprise in his eyes.
He hadn’t expected Alex’s reaction to be so quick, nor that he could accurately evade his fierce attack.
“Again!” he growled.
This time, he didn’t charge directly but slowly circled Alex, his footsteps heavy, each step testing Alex for weaknesses.
Alex also circled, maintaining a three-pace distance from John.
His gaze remained fixed on John’s knee.
When John turned just now, his left knee bent slightly, moving half a beat slower than his right.
The old injury was indeed his weakness.
Suddenly, John attacked again.
He abruptly stepped to the right, feigning a lunge at Alex’s right side.
When Alex dodged to the left, he suddenly changed direction, pushing off with his left leg and grabbing directly at Alex’s wrist with his right hand, intending to seize his arm, and then use brute force to throw him to the ground.
This was a hunting technique he often used.
When dealing with agile deer herds, he could always rely on this change of direction to grab a deer’s leg.
But this time, he missed.
Alex had already seen through his feint.
The moment John changed direction, instead of dodging, he took a small step forward, his body slightly squatting, and slipped right under John’s arm.
His left hand gently rested on John’s waist, and his right hand grabbed John’s wrist.
He didn’t forcefully twist but merely pulled gently to the side, following John’s forward momentum.
John felt the strength in his hand suddenly vanish, and his body was carried by something, involuntarily tilting to the side.
He tried to steady his balance, but a sharp pain shot through his old left leg injury, his knee buckled, and he instantly lost his balance.
He subconsciously tried to grab something nearby, but Alex’s hand was like it was glued to his waist, and pushed gently again.
This force wasn’t strong, but it hit exactly where his balance was most unstable.
“Thud!”
With a dull thud, John’s massive body fell heavily onto the frozen earth, shaking the snow pellets on the ground into the air.
He lay on the ground, stunned for a while, his ears ringing, hearing only the gasps of the surrounding Tribesmen.
He slowly propped up his upper body and turned to look at Alex, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Had he actually lost?
Lost to someone half his size, who hadn’t even used a fraction of his brute strength against him?
Alex quickly reached out and helped John up.
He could feel John’s arm was still stiff, so he patted the snow off John’s body: “John, are you alright?
Didn’t hit anything just now, did you?”
John looked at Alex’s hand; it wasn’t covered in calluses and scars like his own, yet it possessed a reassuring strength.
He suddenly understood that Alex hadn’t won by “luck”; it was by “skillful leverage”—like weaving fish traps by following the grain of the vine, or making fire by finding the right groove in the wood.
Alex had found his “grain” and “groove,” using the least amount of strength to overcome his greatest advantage.
The surrounding Tribesmen were silent for a few seconds, then erupted in thunderous cheers.
Mark was the first to rush over, hugging Alex’s arm and shouting:
“Alex!
You’re amazing!
How did you do it?
I thought John was going to grab you!”
A He also ran over, tugging on Alex’s animal skin skirt, his small face full of adoration:
“Alex, do you have the power of a god?
It’s even more powerful than the Old Shaman’s spells!”
Yuna also walked over, tears glistening in her eyes, but smiling happily:
The Old Shaman, leaning on his wooden staff, slowly walked in front of the two.
He first looked at John, then at Alex, a look of relief appearing in his cloudy eyes:
“The rule of the Flame Stone Tribe is that the winner is the Chief.
John, do you accept?”
John took a deep breath, then suddenly stepped forward and knelt on one knee before Alex.
He clasped his hands together and placed them on his chest—this was the most respectful gesture to a Chief in the Tribe.
He had only performed this Rei when the Old Chief was alive.
“I accept!”
His voice was resonant, echoing across the entire clearing.
“Alex didn’t rely on brute force, but on wisdom that can keep the Tribe alive.
From today onwards, my stone axe, my strength, will all obey Alex’s command!
Only he is fit to be the Chief of the Flame Stone Tribe!”
Saying so, he turned, picked up the stone axe leaning against the pine tree, held it with both hands, and presented it to Alex.
The handle of the stone axe was polished smooth, and carved with the sun totem of the Flame Stone Tribe.
This was the symbol of the Tribe’s Chief.
He never used to let it leave his side, but now he willingly handed it over.
Alex looked at the stone axe, then at John kneeling on one knee, and a warm current flowed through his heart.
He didn’t immediately take the stone axe but bent down to help John up:
“John, you keep this stone axe.
The Tribe needs Hunters who can wield stone axes, and also people who can weave fish traps.
We’re not about ‘who commands whom,’ but about keeping the Tribe alive together.”
John was stunned for a moment, the stone axe in his hand still slightly warm.
He looked into Alex’s sincere eyes and suddenly understood—Alex didn’t want the “title of Chief,”
but the unity of the entire Tribe.
He nodded vigorously, hoisted the stone axe onto his shoulder, his eyes no longer filled with gloom, but with a newfound determination: “Alright!
From now on, wherever you say to go, I’ll lead the Hunters there!
If you say weave fish traps, we’ll weave fish traps; if you say make stone hoes, we’ll make stone hoes!”
Just then, a system notification sound suddenly rang in Alex’s mind:
[Detected that the host has gained Tribe recognition through non-military means, established core leadership, and strengthened Tribe cohesion.
This meets the ‘Civilization Progress – System Establishment’ standard.
Reward Civilization Points: 80 points.
Current Civilization Points: 280 points.]
Alex felt a warmth in his heart.
280 points—enough to exchange for a pack of medical gauze, and with a few more points, he could exchange for coarse grain seeds.
He looked up at the surrounding Tribesmen, raised his hands, and gestured for everyone to be quiet:
“Tribesmen, today’s contest wasn’t me winning against John; it was our Flame Stone Tribe winning.
From now on, we no longer need to fear lack of fire, water, or food.
We can weave fish traps to catch fish, make stone hoes to farm, and rely on our own hands to survive this winter and welcome spring!”
“Good!”
The Tribesmen’s cheers resounded through the mountains and forests, startling even the distant birds into fluttering flight.
Old Man Ku Mu smiled and nodded, saying to the person beside him:
“I’ve lived this long, and I’ve never seen such a capable Chief.
The Flame Stone Tribe is saved.”
John, carrying his stone axe, walked to Alex’s side and patted his shoulder:
“Alex, what do you want to do next?
Teach everyone to weave more fish traps, or go find stones to make stone hoes?”
Alex looked towards the eastern mountain forest, where the morning light was falling, dyeing the snowy ground gold.
He smiled and said: “First, fish soup.
We still have plenty of fish from yesterday.
Let everyone eat their fill, and this afternoon we’ll go find bluestones to make stone hoes.
We need good tools to clear land in spring.”
“Good!
Fish soup!”
The Tribesmen cheered and walked into the cave.
John followed beside Alex, his steps much lighter than usual.
He looked at Alex’s back and suddenly felt that the Tribe’s future, like the snowy ground in the morning light, though still cold, was already radiating warm hope.
The fish soup in the fire pit was still bubbling, with chopped wild onions floating in the milky white broth, its aroma drifting out of the cave, making people frequently turn their heads.
When Alex entered the cave, Yuna had already filled two bowls of fish soup, handing one to him and one to John:
“Drink quickly, it’s still hot.”
Alex took the fish soup and took a sip.
The warmth slid down his throat into his stomach, making him feel exceptionally comfortable.