Hearing the elder's words, Elizabeth was literally struck speechless. She sat in total, deafening silence for several long minutes, staring blankly at the wooden boards of the chest as the utterly insane, entirely new biological puzzle slowly pieced itself together in her mind.
Holy shit… so in this wild world, genuine futanari actually exist…
Suddenly, taking her completely by surprise, a wave of intense, scorching heat rushed through her body. A sweet, involuntary clench tightened her lower abdomen at the mere thought of all the powerful female warriors in the clan.
Vivid, shameless imagery instantly flared in her imagination: she pictured a tall, muscular Solaria with wild horns and a supple tail pressing her firmly down into the pelts. With inhuman strength, the warrior spread her thighs and took her deeply from behind with a massive, throbbing member, while a second, equally predatory horned huntress leaned over her, mercilessly plunging straight into her wet, open mouth with a deep growl, filling her completely…
In a fraction of a second, her breathing turned unnaturally heavy and ragged. A deep, scarlet blush crept up her pale cheeks and down her chest, causing her tight sports top to heave rhythmically with her rapidly racing heart.
Realizing just how shameless the thoughts taking over her mind were right in front of the Sharu, Elizabeth violently and vigorously shook her head side to side, desperately trying to banish the lewd fantasies and cool her fevered mind at all costs.
The old Sharu observed her sudden shifts in expression and her dilated pupils with unconcealed, gentle curiosity. Raising an eyebrow, he asked directly:
“And what of you, my child… in terms of your body, are you a Solaria or a Luna?”
Hearing the intimate question, Elizabeth reflexively scratched her burning cheek, averting her gaze slightly, and answered with deep embarrassment:
“Taking everything you just explained into account… I’m pretty much a hundred percent Luna.”
“I see. Your delicate build and pure bloodline certainly point to that.” The elder nodded his white head with grave understanding before stubbornly resuming his fatherly nagging: “Since you are a Luna, it is all the more imperative that, immediately after the ceremony, you find yourself a strong, protective Solaria or a capable male warrior to marry. You must bear healthy offspring blessed with the Sharu's gift as soon as possible.”
“…”
The corner of Elizabeth's mouth twitched into a helpless, wry half-smile, yet not the slightest shadow of irritation or anger flickered in her eyes.
On the contrary, the entire situation warmed her lonely heart in an incredibly folksy, comforting way. This nagging, overly concerned elder evoked the exact same nostalgic feeling as the old, well-meaning director of her orphanage back on Earth, who, during every single visit, would tirelessly harp on her to stop writing her books all day, hurry up with her life, and find a decent partner to marry.
“You see, when people grow old and feel the end approaching, they unfortunately have a natural tendency to talk and lecture a little too much, don't they?” The elder stroked his long white beard with a quiet smile. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he asked in a much deeper tone:
“Tell me honestly, child… do you truly fear these cruel people from the Green Snake Tribe?”
“Why exactly would I fear them?” Elizabeth asked purely out of reflex, without a shred of fear, looking him straight in the eyes.
As an author who had drafted hundreds of battle scenes and complex intrigues, she knew perfectly well that fear was merely an obstacle to planning. Every enemy - regardless of their brutality - possessed weak points that could be ruthlessly exploited through cunning, technology, and the right skillset.
“Hahaha…” The old Sharu let out a loud, genuine laugh that lit up his entire wrinkled face. With boundless benevolence, he said: “It seems my sacred Ancestors truly did not misguide me in their signs, and I have chosen precisely the right person to take my place.”
Elizabeth's simple, unfeigned words gave him the exact answer his heart had so desperately yearned for. Her unyielding, calm stance in the face of a formidable enemy brought his aching soul the long-awaited peace it needed before his departure.
“Sharu, I promise you I will work incredibly hard to become the best possible Sharu for this people. I will lead the entire Blood Fire Tribe straight to prosperity and wealth, and… uh… I will absolutely not hesitate to reclaim our sanctified Ancestral Lands from the invaders,” Elizabeth stated with utmost conviction.
At the last possible second, she stopped herself from shouting the catchy, modern-Earth propaganda slogans about combating poverty and executing five-year industrial plans she had practically memorized, firmly shelving all her shameless thoughts about horned futa women for a later time.
***
Time slipped by unnoticed as the young woman and the elder engaged in an unbroken, exhausting conversation deep within the tent. One side taught the arcane secrets of the Sharu with unfailing patience, while the other probed with penetrating questions, digging into every ambiguous detail. Before either of them fully realized it, deep dusk had already descended outside, and the blood-red sun had once again sunk behind the jagged mountain horizon.
Inside the massive tent, a small fire had been lit within the ring of stones, casting warm, dancing shadows across the walls and providing the necessary light to examine the scrolls.
Cough, cough, cough…
The Sharu suddenly erupted into a violent, full-body coughing fit. His frail frame doubled over as he reflexively covered his mouth with a trembling, bony hand.
When he finally lowered his hand after the long, choking bout, fresh crimson blood stained his pale skin and the spaces between his fingers.
“Sharu, I’m begging you, please rest for just a moment,” Elizabeth tried to urge him with deep concern, reaching her hand out toward him.
She had spent the entire long day learning the absolute basics of the Sharu's role, identifying runes, and grasping the elementary rules governing the clan. Throughout the day, she had advised the elder to pause the lessons and rest no fewer than seven or eight times, but he had stubbornly refused every single one.
“It is fine. I have taught you everything that is most vital and everything that needed to be ingrained in you at the very beginning. The rest depends entirely on your own hard work and wisdom,” the Sharu slowly shook his head, wiping his bloodied hand against his worn animal-skin garments with complete indifference.
He lifted his white head, gathered the last of his strength, and shouted toward the tent entrance:
“Neria! Are all preparations for the Succession Ceremony fully complete?!”
“Everything is ready. We are merely waiting on your signal,” Neria announced from outside in a hushed, deep voice.
“In that case, let us commence the Sharu Succession Ceremony without further delay,” the elder called back hastily, a frantic fear gripping his heart that his fading body simply wouldn't hold out much longer if the ritual didn't start immediately.
“At once, Sharu,” Neria answered with the utmost respect.
The thick leather entrance flap lifted, and Neria and Riven stepped briskly into the stifling interior. Both instantly bowed low in deep reverence before their spiritual leader. Then, with utmost care and extraordinary gentleness, they took the elder by the arms, supporting his failing body as they slowly led him out of the tent.
Elizabeth rose from the pelts and followed right behind them, instinctively massaging her numb thighs through her torn leggings. Hours of sitting completely motionless with her legs crossed had entirely cut off the circulation in her lower half.
Stepping out into the cool night, she immediately noticed that the camp's surroundings had undergone a drastic transformation. Originally, several smaller shelters had stood in tight formation just outside the chieftain’s grand pavilion. Now, all of them had been completely dismantled and cleared away, opening up a spacious, packed-dirt arena several dozen meters wide right before the entrance.
Rising in the very center of this empty plaza was a massive wooden platform, several meters wide and standing over a meter above the ground. Standing around the structure in perfect silence were ten incredibly strong, muscular men and women.
They were mostly elite Totem Warriors from the main Hunting Party, and each was adorned in terrifying, ritualistic war garb. Some wore the hollowed-out, massive Skulls of Wild Beasts over their heads, gazing through empty eye sockets; others had the gleaming feathers of birds of prey woven into their hair; still others wore heavy, sharp necklaces strung with the massive Fangs of Wild Beasts swaying against their chests.
Further out, forming a dense, unbroken circle around the platform, stood all the remaining members of the Tribe - hunched elders, young hunters, weeping women, and the children clinging tightly to them.
Without exception, every single one of them stared at the emerging elder with boundless anxiety and tight chests, and heavy, bitter tears of helplessness were already streaming down many of their cheeks.
With great difficulty, the Sharu, supported by the commanders, climbed the steps onto the wooden platform and stood in its center. Trembling all over like a withered leaf in the wind, he offered a weak wave of his hand toward Elizabeth, who stood at the bottom of the steps.
“Hurry up and get up there with him!” Valeria suddenly materialized from the shadows right beside her, urging her in a raspy voice trembling with suppressed emotion: “Don't make the Sharu wait for you too long… You can see for yourself how exhausted he is.”
“I’m going…” Elizabeth nodded, gathered her resolve, and climbed the wooden dais with a springy step, stopping directly before the old priest.
“My child, sit here before me,” the Sharu whispered, pointing to a spot on the boards. He then slowly turned to face the crowd gathered at the foot of the platform and raised a dry, trembling hand with immense effort.
In that singular moment, his old, raspy voice rang out with an incredible, almost superhuman power and clarity, echoing across the entire ravine:
“All my faithful people! Standing before you is the new guardian and rightful Sharu for our tormented Blood Fire Tribe! Exactly fifty-four years have passed since I first took this sacred burden upon my own shoulders… My old body is mortally tired, and the inevitable time has come to allow a new Sharu to take the flame and lead you all to salvation!”
“…”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together tightly, perfectly understanding the elder's noble intentions. With this solemn, highly public declaration, he was deliberately paving her path to power, forcing the conservative clan members to immediately accept her as their rightful leader, despite the fact that she had been a complete stranger from the woods a mere three days ago.
Cough, cough…
The elder suddenly coughed again, doubling over at the waist and panting heavily. With a sharp wave of his hand, he stopped Neria and the other warriors who, in a panic, tried to rush the dais to catch him. He wiped the cracked corners of his mouth with his animal-skin sleeve and shouted hoarsely at the top of his lungs:
“Commence the Succession Ceremony without delay!”