Chapter 227-2: A Tragic Continuation of the Race, All for Survival (Part 2)

Words : 1331 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

After leaving the hut, Beastmen King Kap walked outside. From another house emerged a figure just as tall as Kap, exuding a cruel and chilling aura mixed with killing intent. His body was draped in tattered gray beast hide. The muscular physique beneath his scar-covered flesh flexed faintly as he moved, with a huge tail swaying behind him. Wild and primitive. The wolf head on his shoulders was horrifying, and his narrow emerald eyes radiated killing intent. Sharp, terrifying fangs jutted from his mouth. This was a noble among the beastmen, a powerful warrior race, the Wolfmen. "My king, why not kill the Dwarf King? His existence poses a great threat to us," Craig Shadowhunter asked in confusion. The Dwarf King was the spiritual core of thel dwarves. As long as he lived, the dwarves would never truly submit to the great beastmen. "No, Craig. The Dwarf King cannot die. Anyone may die, except him!" Kap turned his head, his eyes flashing with depth. "The reason the dwarves obey is because their king commands them. Dwarves are not humans. They do not fear death. Do not think that you can deal with dwarves the same way you deal with humans. If anything happens to the Dwarf King, I swear to the great God of the Hunt, the dwarves will resist us to the death! The final outcome would only be tremendous losses for us and the annihilation of the dwarves." As king of the beastmen tribe, Kap saw matters very clearly. Trying to suppress the dwarves with sheer force was futile. The only way was to control their king, so the Dwarf King would issue commands to them. Death? These creatures, whose minds were filled with stone and who would willingly bury themselves alive while still breathing, cared nothing for death. Craig nodded and did not argue further. In terms of wisdom, the Lionmane chieftain Kap had never disappointed him. "Craig, finish forging the weapons and armor as soon as possible. We must go out raiding for more food during the Months of Deep Winter." Kap’s tone was solemn, his expression heavy. "Our food can no longer sustain us through this winter." Craig’s eyes flared with rage as he growled, "Those damned human merchants raised the grain prices again!! Now it takes an entire full cowhide just to exchange for a sack of wheat!! These greedy, filthy human merchants, one day I will personally cut off their heads with my blade!!" Kap's expression darkened upon hearing this. The Barren Plains were simply too impoverished, producing extremely limited food. Every cold winter, countless beastmen would starve to death. Adding to this, the humans had long imposed a grain embargo on the beastmen, further worsening the situation. Thus, in order to feed more of his people, the Lionmane Tribe had always secretly purchased food from human smugglers. But those greedy human merchants had become utterly insane, demanding even entire complete magical beast hides in exchange for a single sack of wheat worth only a few Silver Pucks. He knew that in the human world, a single magical beast hide could be traded for dozens of sacks of wheat. Yet after the Months of Deep Winter, the human borders would be completely sealed off. Without an army dispatched by the Beastmen Royal Court, even a great tribe like his could not break through the human army’s blockade. So if they wanted more food, they could only trade the magical beast hides and other materials hunted by the Lionmane Tribe to those fearless human merchants. These things were useless sitting in their own hands; better to exchange them for food. "Have you finished inventorying the secret food storage warehouse we discovered in that dwarven settlement yesterday? How much food was stored inside?" Kap suddenly asked with a glimmer of hope. "My King, the dwarves had only stored enough food to sustain three thousand people for one month," Masi shook his head, completely shattering Kap's fantasy. The Lionmane Tribe had fifteen thousand people; that amount of food would only last them a few days. Like the dwarves, the beastmen were a race where all were warriors, able to easily field armies of ten thousand or more. "How much food do we have in total now?" "After plundering the dwarves, we have enough for two months." Two months? Kap took a deep breath, feeling as if a massive stone was weighing down on his chest. It was now August, the time to store up food, but this year, for some unknown reason, the herds on the Barren Plains had greatly diminished, and their hunting parties often returned empty-handed. With no meat from hunting, and thus no hides to trade with the human merchants, whereas in previous years they could usually stockpile three or even four months’ worth of food, this year’s harvest was meager. Being able to store even two months’ worth now was only thanks to the food they had seized from the dwarves. This year’s food shortage brought a tremendous sense of crisis. The Months of Deep Winter were right around the corner, and he didn’t want to see his people buried because of starvation. "Increase the hunts. Send out more of our people. We need food." The beastmen king’s voice was heavy. As a powerful Level 18 warrior, Kap was tormented inside by his inability to meet even the basic food needs of his people. "I do not want to see the old and wounded warriors walking alone into the wilderness again this winter." In the Months of Deep Winter, to walk alone into the frozen wilderness meant nothing but seeking death. Craig’s massive wolf head turned slightly, gazing at the mists above the valley, his eyes dim. No one wanted to see their people die from hunger, but such were the rules of survival on the Barren Plains. Food was always scarce. To survive, they had to fight for it; if they failed, the last remaining food would be reserved for the tribe’s strongest warriors. Because they were the only guarantee of the tribe’s continued existence. Cruel and helpless. But this was racial survival, there was no reasoning behind it. This was also why the beastmen raided the humans every winter. It was a struggle for the right to survive, indifferent to questions of right or wrong, good or evil, it was purely about survival. "Also, try to contact more human merchants willing to sell food. If absolutely necessary, we can trade some of the dwarven-forged weapons for grain." Kap spoke with great heaviness. The beastmen tribes lacked not only food but also everything else: weapons, armor, salt, iron tools, and so on. Unskilled in farming and ignorant of industrial development, the beastmen lived a primitive and ancient life. Craig opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing the pain in Kap’s eyes, he ultimately held back. The dwarven-forged weapons were also very important to the Lionmane Tribe, for only one-third of their army currently had armor and iron weapons. The majority still wore crude leather armor stitched from rhino hides and wielded weapons made of wooden clubs or magical beast leg bones. Primitive and backward. On the Barren Plains, strength was the sole measure of survival. But the food shortage loomed like a demon lurking beneath the shadows, ready to devour them at any moment. Every decision was unbearably difficult. "As you command, my King." "Go, and watch over the Dwarf King closely. As long as nothing happens to him, the dwarven clan will remain stable." "As you wish." Kap clenched his fists tightly, the sharp claws flashing cold light as they sliced into his palms. Blood dripped. The powerful aura of this Lionman king made nearby beastmen and dwarves feel uneasy as they passed. His deep gaze stared at the mist-shrouded valley above, carrying the weighty responsibility of a king fighting for his tribe’s survival. "No one... will stop the Lionmane Tribe from surviving. No one!!"

Chapter 227-2: A Tragic Continuation of the Race, All for Survival (Part 2)

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