“How is that even possible?!” Neria’s eyes went wide as she fixed the young Sharu with a look of boundless disbelief, desperately searching for even the slightest hint of deceit or a joke on her face.
“A method for crafting linen?!”
Riven was a step slower in grasping the magnitude of the situation, but his glowing violet eyes slowly widened to their absolute limits until the hunter simply couldn't hold it in and shouted at the top of his lungs:
“Sharu, by the Ancestors, you aren't pulling our legs right now, are you?!”
“Do I honestly look like someone in the mood for idiotic jokes at a grim time like this?” Elizabeth rolled her blue eyes ostentatiously and added with an impatient edge: “I really don't have the free time or the desire to mess with you in this tent.”
She had only just officially assumed the Sharu's mantle, and hundreds of burning issues she had to address immediately had just fallen squarely onto her shoulders - especially considering how little she still understood about the clan's inner workings. All these gaps in her knowledge were a genuine source of a massive headache.
“Sharu… do you truly know how to make linen?!” Neria took a sudden step forward, locking her feverish red eyes onto her. Her breathing grew incredibly heavy and ragged, and her hands began to tremble slightly with emotion.
Faced with this sudden, overwhelming proximity, Elizabeth reflexively took half a step back. Her gaze drifted involuntarily to the chief's gigantic chest right in front of her.
Neria’s ample bust was literally heaving right in front of Elizabeth’s face, prompting her to think involuntarily, with a mix of envy and fascination:
Mother of God… her breasts are just monstrously huge…
She quickly and vigorously shook her head side to side to clear away the inappropriate distractions and said with unwavering calm:
“Yes, I know how to make it. And truthfully, it isn't all that difficult.”
Elizabeth nodded seriously. With the precise crafting guide she had just pulled from the green box, teaching the illiterate clan members the step-by-step processes of fiber preparation and manual weaving wouldn't be a problem in the slightest.
“Not that difficult?!”
Neria and Riven’s mouths simultaneously twitched in a helpless spasm. Both of them felt the urge to literally spit blood in sheer indignation at that exact moment.
This young, newly appointed Sharu was treating the most sacred, heavily guarded production secret of the great powers with the same casual lightness as gathering a handful of dry twigs for a campfire.
It was only the first morning after the Old Sharu's passing, yet they both already found themselves desperately missing his measured, cautious approach to life.
A multitude of thoughts flashed through Neria's mind in a fraction of a second before the chief exclaimed with mounting enthusiasm:
“Excellent! As long as we are capable of producing our own linen, we will undoubtedly become a powerful, self-sufficient tribe in no time - just like the famous Leaf Tribe!”
“The Leaf Tribe? Are they the ones who primarily produce the linen traded at the market?” Elizabeth asked with genuine interest.
“Huh? Sharu, do you truly know absolutely nothing about the mighty Leaf Tribe? Then where on earth did you learn to craft linen in the first place?!” Neria asked, totally blindsided, blinking her red eyes.
“And who told you that my knowledge and method of crafting linen had to come from some forest Leaf Tribe?” Elizabeth merely sighed internally, noting that this powerful, busty Solaria possessed an exceptionally irritating tendency to instantly concoct the most absurd, bizarre theories in her head.
“Is it even possible… that you devised the technique entirely from scratch with your own mind, Sharu?!” Riven looked down at the petite blonde before him with such pious awe it was as if she were a deity descended from the heavens or a superhuman. Pure, fanatical reverence flared in his deep violet eyes.
“I suppose, in a simplified sense, you could put it that way,” Elizabeth nodded smoothly, maintaining a flawless poker face. She reflexively and gracefully tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.
“Wait… three days ago, when our scouts found you unconscious in the forest… did that happen because some hostile tribe discovered your talent for weaving linen and secretly tried to assassinate you for it?!”
Neria instantly launched into another wave of paranoid deductions. She cast a nervous glance around the tent's interior and added with deadly seriousness:
“Sharu, under no circumstances can we allow anyone outside this tent to learn that you can create linen!”
“I am perfectly aware of that. Calm down.” The corners of Elizabeth's eyes twitched in a helpless grimace.
Our great Chief with cow udders is truly incredibly gifted at spinning wild conspiracy theories and drawing the most ludicrous conclusions from every word I say…
“In that case, Sharu, can we begin producing the first batch of linen immediately?!” Riven asked restlessly and impatiently, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Do not rush blindly. Everything requires proper preparation.” Elizabeth slowly scanned the spacious interior, noting with a touch of sadness that the primitive room lacked even a single wooden chair or a simple workbench.
“But Sharu, we only have eight days left until the Fox Tribe's grand market! Just getting our caravan there with the goods will take three days of marching, so we actually only have five days for all the production!”
Contrary to appearances, Neria was no fool. She had deduced in a flash that the new Sharu intended to exploit the upcoming bazaar to trade freshly woven fabric for mountains of priceless dried meat.
“Blind haste and nerves won't help us now, considering we don't even possess the basic raw materials yet,” Elizabeth stated with pragmatic coolness.
Although she already had a multi-step action plan mapped out in her head, acquiring the proper fibrous plants to spin the first linen threads was an absolute prerequisite for beginning the work.
That was precisely why she had ordered Riven to resume the hunts - if they failed to find the right plants while combing the valley, the tribe would have to immediately enact a contingency plan based on the hunted meat.
As a seasoned novelist, Elizabeth was deeply accustomed to coldly calculating every move, always factoring in the most unexpected and pessimistic scenarios.
“No matter what strange plants or raw materials you need, just say the word! We will scour the entire forest and find them for you immediately!” Riven shouted passionately, flexing his muscles.
“There is no need. You have your specific assignment. You will lead the entire hunting party into the depths of the valley to hunt, just as I ordered,” Elizabeth shook her head firmly.
“But… Sharu…” Riven still tried to protest. He wanted with all his heart to stay and witness the birth of the mythical linen with his own eyes - something that, to him, still seemed almost supernatural and magical.
“Riven, shut your mouth and follow orders,” Neria cut him off sharply and quietly, resting her hand on the hilt of her knife.
She vividly remembered the late Sharu's final instruction, commanding her to respect and unconditionally obey the new leader just as she had obeyed him for years. In this situation, she had no intention of tolerating any insubordination.
“I apologize… You are right. I simply got too excited by the prospect,” Riven lowered his massive head in shame, staring at the dirt.
“Riven, while you are out hunting in the valley, you can keep a close eye out for the wild plants we'll need to produce the linen we want,” Elizabeth offered in a soothing tone, looking up at the giant.
“And what exactly does this plant look like? What should we be looking for?” Riven asked hastily, thrusting his massive chest forward.
“I don't know if the exact same species of plant grows in this world…” Elizabeth furrowed her brow in thought and began explaining patiently:
“I will simply describe its key characteristics. You gather several similar plants in the forest and bring them back here to the camp so we can test them for fibers.”
“Please, speak freely, Sharu. We will remember every word you say,” Neria and Riven assured her almost simultaneously, straining all their attention so as not to miss a single detail.
“The stems of the plant from which the threads are extracted are typically not very thick, reaching roughly the circumference of a human thumb. Their most important feature is that, upon crushing them, the outer layer can be easily torn lengthwise into long, resilient, thin strips - the thinner and more durable these fibers are, the higher the quality of the fabric we will weave from them,” Elizabeth detailed the properties of natural flax fiber.
She feared internally that the flora native to this wild world might differ drastically from their earthly counterparts. Therefore, she deliberately avoided using any botanical names from Earth, which would mean absolutely nothing to them and only cause the hunters to waste precious time wandering fruitlessly through the brush. It was far safer to define the physical properties of the material itself.
“Stems that can be effortlessly torn into thin, strong strips…” Neria and Riven repeated gravely, furrowing their brows deeply as they frantically scoured their memories for familiar thickets.
“Go now. Only after we find the right materials can we truly commence production,” Elizabeth added with a touch of helplessness, knowing perfectly well that even the greatest, most resourceful housewife couldn't cook a hearty meal from an empty pot without grains of rice.
“Yes, Sharu!” they shouted in unison. Without further ceremony, they spun on their heels and practically sprinted out of the spacious pavilion.
The prospect of mastering linen production appeared to both of them as the absolute, revolutionary key to rebuilding the Blood Fire Tribe's former glory. Because of this, neither felt comfortable entrusting such a momentous mission to ordinary scouts - they preferred to personally lead their squads into the forest and oversee every detail of the search with their own hands.
“I'll give them this much: they certainly don't lack ambition or energy,” Elizabeth chuckled quietly to herself, watching the heavy entrance flap swaying for a moment before focusing her full attention on organizing the spacious interior.
She rolled up her sleeves and methodically began cleaning the dusty tent, sorting and arranging all useful items by specific categories until order was finally established.
While searching through the darker corners, she stumbled upon several sturdily built wooden crates crafted from ordinary, dark wood.
“These items are probably the standard collection of every Sharu in this world,” she murmured, lifting the lid of the first box.
Inside lay a whole host of bizarre, unusual artifacts: chipped stone fragments etched with half-faded runes, yellowed shards of massive bones from unknown predatory beasts, and several meticulously tanned, exceptionally soft hides of high quality.
“Hm? And what's this?” In the deepest corner of the crate, her eye was caught by a small, oblong wooden tube.
She carefully brought it out into the light and pulled the tightly fitted stopper. Inside was a thick, pitch-black liquid with a slightly resinous scent.
Isn't this ink? she thought, a spark of lively excitement flashing in her mind, though she couldn't be a hundred percent certain.
She set the wooden vessel aside helplessly and let out a long, heavy sigh:
“Honestly, the old Sharu passed into the afterlife and didn't even leave me a permanent assistant or a trusted guide…”
Elizabeth looked around the freshly tidied tent and reached the inescapable conclusion that she urgently needed to recruit a permanent helper, allowing her to offload all the minor, daily chores onto an assistant's shoulders without hindrance.
She grabbed a rolled-up sheet of smooth animal hide from the bedding, picked out a few hard pieces of charcoal from the fire pit, and headed toward the exit to find someone suitable.
“Ah, so you're standing right here,” she remarked with a faint smile the moment she lifted the flap and immediately spotted the slender figure of the horned girl leaning against a wooden post in the tent's shadow.
Even just yesterday, as an ordinary human, Elizabeth wouldn't have been able to detect Valeria's silent presence in advance. But after officially inheriting the Sharu's power, her spiritual perception had sharpened to the point where she could easily sense beings within a radius of a dozen meters.
“…” Valeria went pale with surprise for a split second. She had been just about to creep closer soundlessly and startle the new Sharu, but the fact that Elizabeth had seen right through her completely ruined her planned fun.
She lifted her head proudly to look at the blonde standing before her. Yet, when her predatory, blood-red eyes met Elizabeth's deep, azure gaze, Valeria suddenly felt her own will involuntarily buckle under the weight of that magnetic stare - she had the overwhelming sensation that her consciousness was slowly being pulled into the bottomless, calm depths of an ocean.
“Why are you suddenly backing away and making those big eyes?” Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively, breaking the strange impasse.
“…” Valeria snapped out of her momentary daze, hurriedly dropping her gaze to the ground as all her youthful arrogance evaporated.
A bell of profound, genuine shock tolled in the girl's heart - the aura and icy calm radiating from this seemingly delicate woman were identical to the very presence the Old Sharu had exuded for decades: full of impenetrable mystery, stern authority, and depth.
“Are you sick by any chance?” Elizabeth asked with genuine astonishment, seeing such unnaturally tense behavior from the usually mouthy warrior. Unable to suppress her maternal instinct, she stepped closer and gently pressed the cool back of her hand directly against Valeria's smooth forehead, just below the base of her curved horn.
“…!”
Valeria literally froze in surprise and embarrassment at the touch of the soft, pale skin. The pleasant, soothing coolness seeping from the Sharu's hand caused a sudden, scarlet blush to bloom across her jade-white cheeks in a fraction of a second, burning all the way to the tips of her ears.
“Y-You… what exactly do you think you're doing?!” she jumped back two paces as if burned, completely losing control of her tongue and stammering in a panic:
“I-I… I won't just surrender to you that easily, I'll have you know!”
“Huh?” Elizabeth, with her hand still raised in the air, merely rolled her eyes theatrically at the comical scene and asked with exasperation:
“What kind of nonsense are you spouting now? Besides, just so you know, I've never been in the habit of forcing anyone into anything against their will.”
“I… I mean…”
Valeria locked up completely, blushing furiously under her gaze. Utterly lost and consumed by a horrendous awkwardness, she had absolutely no idea how to respond.