《The Greatest City Developer》 Chapter 1: Awakening ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? --------------------- Logan stirred, stretching sluggishly as he emerged from the depths of a heavy, dreamless sleep. A sharp, pounding pain blossomed in his skull, forcing a groan from his lips. He had never experienced a headache this intense in his life. His hands instinctively reached up to cradle his temples as if physical touch could somehow ease the relentless throbbing. His vision blurred as he opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again. The ache felt as though it was splitting his head in two. Slowly, fragmented memories began to resurface, piecing together a hazy mosaic of the events leading up to this moment. He had been driving his car late at night¡ªno, early morning, his exhausted mind corrected. It had been after a grueling, relentless day at work. The hours had dragged on, filled with impossible deadlines and the incessant demands of his overbearing boss. The project for a high-profile client was behind schedule, and Logan, like the rest of his team, had been forced to stay until the work was complete. He remembered glancing at the clock as he finally stepped out of the office: 2:17 a.m. Completely drained, he had shuffled to his car, his body aching and his eyelids heavy. The thought of the long drive home loomed before him like an insurmountable challenge. Still, he had slid behind the wheel, gripping the steering wheel with fingers that trembled slightly from the sheer fatigue coursing through his body. The drive was a blur, as it always was after a late shift, when exhaustion pressed down like a weight and the only thing that mattered was reaching his bed. Not once did the thought of pulling over for a quick nap cross his mind¡ªhis focus was singular, locked onto the distant promise of his pillow. The dim glow of streetlights flickered past like a slow, monotonous metronome, their rhythm blending with the steady hum of his tires on the pavement, lulling him into a dazed, almost hypnotic state. Logan had fought against the fatigue with every trick he knew¡ªrolling down the window for a blast of cold air, cranking up the radio, even slapping his own cheeks¡ªbut it was useless. Exhaustion was a predator, relentless and patient, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Then it happened. The memory struck him like a lightning bolt. His eyelids had closed for just a moment¡ªjust a fraction of a second, or so he thought. But in that instant, his car had veered off the road. He recalled the sudden, violent jolt as the wheels left the pavement, the heart-stopping sight of a towering tree illuminated by his headlights, and the deafening impact as metal crumpled against wood. The world had erupted into chaos: the screech of tearing steel, the crunch of shattered glass, and the gut-wrenching sensation of being hurled forward as the airbag deployed. His breathing quickened as he relived the crash in vivid detail. His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The last thing he remembered was the oppressive darkness swallowing him whole as pain surged through his body. Logan''s eyes snapped open. He winced as the sunlight pierced through his lids, forcing him to shield his face with his hand. Confusion clouded his thoughts as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. This wasn''t a hospital room. There were no sterile walls, no beeping monitors, no bustling nurses or distant hum of machinery. The realization hit him like a second collision. The ground beneath him was rough, a crude carpet of leaves and dirt that poked against his skin. He pushed himself upright, feeling an odd weakness in his limbs, as if his body wasn''t his own. Confusion turned to unease as he surveyed his surroundings. Everything seemed¡­ off. The towering trees loomed like skyscrapers, their roots sprawling across the ground like massive serpents. The leaves scattered around him were enormous, each one larger than his entire torso. "What¡­ what is this?" he tried to say, but the sound that escaped his lips wasn''t speech. It was a garbled, high-pitched babble, the nonsensical noise startling him. His hand shot to his throat, his breath quickening. He tried again, forcing the words, but the same infantile sound emerged. Panic began to set in as he glanced down at his arms. They were small¡ªtoo small¡ªlike a child''s, the proportions all wrong. His legs were stubby, his hands barely larger than the leaves scattered around him. Logan''s heart pounded as he struggled to comprehend the change. His body felt alien, like he''d been crammed into a form not his own. "What the hell is happening to me?!" he thought, his mind racing as he twisted his head to look at himself fully. Then he noticed movement in the distance¡ªa rustle in the foliage. His frantic thoughts stilled, replaced by dread as the sound grew closer. Heavy footsteps thudded against the ground, each one louder than the last, almost shaking the earth beneath him. A shadow loomed, dark and enormous, until a figure emerged from the trees. It was a woman. Her appearance was startling¡ªher hair was dark and matted, a wild mess of strands that cascaded over her shoulders. Her eyes, a deep, muddy brown, held a primal sharpness. Her skin was tanned and weathered, marked by the sun and the earth, and her clothes were crude¡ªanimal skins barely stitched together in a way that spoke of utility rather than design. But what sent Logan''s heart hammering in his chest was her sheer size. She was huge, easily four times his height, towering over him like a giant. She moved with a combination of grace and power, each step deliberate yet swift. Before Logan could react, she closed the distance between them. He let out a long high-pitched cry, a reflexive sound of alarm, but it did nothing to deter her. Her massive hand reached out, and before he could scramble away, she scooped him up with surprising gentleness. He thrashed weakly, his tiny limbs no match for her strength, as she held him securely against her chest. The woman''s face softened as she looked at him, her lips parting to produce a series of low, melodic sounds. They weren''t words¡ªat least, not words Logan could understand¡ªbut they carried an unmistakable tone of reassurance. Her voice was calm and soothing, as though she were trying to comfort him. Logan froze, his mind struggling to process the surreal situation. The woman cradled him like an infant, her large hands supporting him with care. Up close, she was even more imposing, her size overwhelming. Yet there was no malice in her actions, only an odd tenderness. His breathing slowed, the initial wave of panic giving way to a confusing mix of emotions. He felt small¡ªvulnerable¡ªin a way he had never experienced before. The woman''s warm embrace and the rhythmic sound of her voice had an oddly calming effect, even as his rational mind screamed that none of this made sense. "What¡­ what am I?" Logan thought, staring at the enormous woman who held him like a fragile treasure. "And what is she?". Questions swirled in his mind, but no answers came. The world around him felt impossibly vast, and the body he inhabited felt impossibly small. All he could do was cling to the thin thread of hope that somewhere, somehow, he would find an explanation for this strange, primal nightmare. -------------------- A couple of hours had passed since Logan''s bewildering awakening, and his mind, though still reeling, had begun to piece together some fragments of understanding. The truth was jarring: he hadn''t just survived a car crash or woken up in an unfamiliar place. He had regressed¡ªhis body now that of an infant, no more than a few months old. The gigantic woman he had initially feared turned out not to be a giant at all. She was his mother. Her size was merely a contrast to his own diminutive form. Somehow, impossibly, Logan had reincarnated into this tiny body while retaining the memories of his adult self. It was as though the universe had hit a reset button on his existence but left his consciousness intact. His surroundings weren''t just unfamiliar¡ªthey were primitive. Logan had no idea where on Earth he was¡ªor even if he was still on Earth. One thing was clear: these people, the ones who surrounded him, were primitive in every sense of the word. Not in intelligence, perhaps, but in practicality, in their tools, and in their way of life. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The group¡ªhis new "clan," as he reluctantly thought of them¡ªwas moving stealthily through what appeared to be a dense jungle. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth and rotting vegetation mingling with the occasional whiff of something acrid, like smoke. Everyone seemed on edge, their movements cautious and deliberate, as though they were expecting danger to leap out at them from the shadows at any moment. Logan observed them closely, taking in their habits and behaviors. There were around 20 people in total: nine men and eleven women, all in the prime of their youth. The men and women ranged in age from what looked like 15 to about 30 years old. Strangely, there were no elders among them. Even more curious, there were no other children. Logan seemed to be the sole exception, the only child in this clan. His mother carried him in a crude pouch slung across her side. The material was coarse and reeked of decaying flesh and charcoal, a combination that made Logan want to gag. He couldn''t tell if the stench came from the pouch itself or from its previous contents, but it was a far cry from the sterile baby carriers he''d seen in his previous life. Naked and confined, he had no choice but to endure the discomfort. The clan moved in a loose formation, the men and women alike clutching long, rough-hewn branches. These seemed to serve multiple purposes: as walking sticks, tools for breaking through thick undergrowth, and even as weapons. Despite their apparent simplicity, the group wielded these tools with an air of readiness, as though prepared to fight to the death if necessary. Every so often, the group would stop. Members of the clan would forage, plucking fruit from trees, gathering mushrooms from the ground, or tearing up plants that looked to Logan like weeds. These finds were carefully stowed away in pouches similar to the one he occupied. Logan couldn''t help but notice how they interacted¡ªor rather, how they didn''t. There was little conversation, only the occasional whisper or grunt exchanged among the group. Their faces were serious, almost grim, their eyes darting constantly to their surroundings. It was clear they lived in a state of perpetual vigilance. They looked human, at least on the surface. Logan studied their features, noting their sun-kissed skin, their lean but muscular builds, and their rough, unkempt hair. But there was something else¡ªsomething about their posture, their expressions, that reminded him of wild animals. They seemed more primal than civilized, like homeless people who had spent their entire lives surviving on the fringes of society. Their clothes, if they could even be called that, were scraps of animal hide and leaves, barely stitched together. Logan tried to process the enormity of what he was witnessing. He felt a strange detachment, as though he were an outsider looking in on a world he couldn''t quite grasp. "What kind of place is this?" he wondered, his mind racing as he watched them gather food. "Why is everyone so young? Where are the elders? The children? Is this some kind of survivalist group? One of the tribe in the Amazon or on some island? Or¡­" He hesitated, the thought too absurd to say even in his head. "Was I reincarnated in the past? The distant past?" The more he observed, the more questions flooded his mind. This was a world where survival was the only priority, where people lived on the knife''s edge of danger. And here he was, helpless and exposed, unable to communicate or contribute. As his mother adjusted the pouch and whispered something incomprehensible in a soothing tone, Logan felt a pang of vulnerability. He was trapped in this small, fragile body, entirely dependent on her care. Whatever life he had known before was gone. This was his reality now¡ªa strange, untamed world where every day seemed to be a battle for survival. After several more hours of trudging through the dense jungle, the group finally came to a halt. One of the men¡ªa towering figure with broad shoulders and a commanding presence¡ªraised his hand in a decisive gesture. His movements were sharp and purposeful as he pointed toward a patch of undergrowth, murmuring something to the others. The meaning was clear enough: this was where they would camp for the night. The clan began to move with an efficiency that spoke of routine. Some started clearing the area, breaking branches and flattening the foliage to make the ground more suitable for sleeping. Others gathered dry wood for a fire, while a few ventured into the surrounding jungle, presumably to scout or forage for additional supplies. Logan''s mother kept him close, the rough pouch swinging slightly as she moved. Her hands were busy, but her eyes remained vigilant, darting between her tasks and the surrounding trees. Logan, confined to the pouch, could only watch the bustle of activity around him. Then the big man approached. He was easily the most imposing figure in the group, his size and stature making even the other men seem small by comparison. His dark hair was tangled and wild, his skin weathered by the sun and the elements. There was an air of authority about him, a confidence that made it clear he was used to being obeyed. The man stopped in front of Logan''s mother and said something in a low, rumbling voice. Logan didn''t understand the words, but the tone was firm yet not unkind. He watched as the man reached out, his rough, calloused hand brushing against his mother''s cheek. The gesture was gentle, almost tender. Logan''s mother paused, her hands stilling in mid-motion. A faint blush crept across her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, murmuring a soft response. Her reaction was subtle but spoke volumes. She seemed nervous, maybe even flustered, but not displeased. Logan, on the other hand, felt his breath catch in his throat. The man''s presence was overwhelming, and when his dark eyes shifted to look at him, Logan froze. The man stared at him intently, his gaze piercing and unreadable. Logan''s tiny body tensed, and he found himself holding his breath as if remaining perfectly still would somehow make him invisible. There was something about the man''s expression that unnerved him¡ªnot hostility, but an intensity that felt almost predatory. "What does he want?" Logan thought, his heartbeat quickening. "Does he see me as a child? Or something else?" The man said something to Logan''s mother, his voice quieter this time, and her response was quick, almost dismissive. She shifted slightly, as if to shield Logan from view, and the man nodded before stepping away. He walked off to join the others, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd. Logan let out a small, shaky exhale, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the pouch for stability. The encounter had left him rattled, a lingering sense of unease twisting in his gut. He glanced up at his mother, whose expression was now calm, though her cheeks still held a faint flush. As she resumed her preparations, Logan couldn''t help but wonder about the dynamics of this strange clan. The interactions, the unspoken hierarchies¡ªthere was so much he didn''t understand. And yet, one thing was clear: the big man held a significant role among them, and for reasons Logan couldn''t yet comprehend, that role seemed to extend to his mother¡ªand by extension, to him. As the group settled into their makeshift camp, Logan''s attention was drawn to one of the women. She moved with purpose, her steps deliberate as she approached the center of the clearing, where a pile of branches and dried leaves had been arranged. Slung across her shoulder was a small pouch, worn and frayed at the edges, which she handled with care. Logan watched intently as the woman crouched down, her hands deftly opening the pouch. From within, she retrieved something dark and brittle-looking, her movements almost reverent. She placed the object¡ªa lump of what appeared to be charred coal¡ªonto a bed of dried weeds at the center of the pile. As she blew gently on the bundle, thin wisps of smoke began to curl into the air. It took several moments of careful tending before a spark took hold. The woman continued her ritual, adding twigs and kindling to the fragile ember until the smoke thickened and a small flame flickered to life. The clan gathered around, their expressions a mix of relief and quiet satisfaction as the fire grew steadily. Logan''s brow furrowed as he observed the scene. He had been watching them closely all day, and now a troubling thought began to take shape in his mind. They don''t know how to make fire. The realization hit him like a cold slap. The pouch, he deduced, must have been carrying embers or coals from another fire, carefully preserved and transported to ensure they wouldn''t lose their most valuable resource. The woman''s actions¡ªher almost sacred treatment of the coals, the clan''s watchful anticipation¡ªseemed to confirm it. "Is this¡­ is this all they have?" Logan thought, his mind racing. "They can''t make fire from scratch? They''re completely dependent on keeping it alive, like some fragile, precious thing?" The implications were staggering. Logan had assumed that, primitive as they seemed, these people at least possessed the basic skills he had seen in documentaries about modern-day tribes. Even the most isolated communities, those untouched by contemporary civilization, knew how to create fire through friction, flint, or other means. It was a universal skill, a cornerstone of human survival. Without it, a tribe would be at the mercy of nature¡ªwaiting for lightning to strike, stealing fire from others, or hoping to stumble upon a rare source like a volcano. If this group truly lacked the ability to make fire, it wasn''t just inconvenient¡ªit was catastrophic. Fire was life. It meant warmth, cooked food, protection from predators, and the ability to craft tools and medicines. Without it, their survival hung by the thinnest thread "Maybe I''m farther back in time than I thought," Logan mused, the weight of the thought pressing down on him. "Farther than I could have imagined. This isn''t just primitive¡ªit''s prehistory. A time before even the most basic knowledge of survival had been widely shared." A heavy sense of despair began to settle over him as he considered the implications. If these people were truly this dependent on preserving fire, how could they possibly survive for long? The jungle was unforgiving, teeming with dangers he hadn''t even begun to comprehend. One misstep, one bad storm, and their precious fire could be snuffed out for good. As Logan''s mother adjusted the pouch that carried him, he glanced up at her face. She looked calm, but there was a weariness in her eyes, a quiet strength that masked the constant vigilance required to keep him and the clan alive. Logan couldn''t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her¡ªand for the group as a whole. They were fighting a battle against nature with only the most rudimentary tools and knowledge. And now, he was part of this fragile, precarious existence. "I don''t know how I''m supposed to help them," Logan thought, his mind clouded with frustration and uncertainty. "I don''t even know how I got here, let alone why. But if this is where I''m stuck, I need to figure something out. For their sake¡ªand mine." The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the clan. As the flames grew stronger, Logan watched them closely, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the pouch. The enormity of his situation weighed heavily on him, but one thing was certain: survival in this harsh world would demand everything they¡ªand he¡ªhad to give. Chapter 2 - Another day ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- With the fire officially crackling and a decent pile of wood accumulated, the clan began to settle into their evening routine. Logan watched as the members of the group took out the items they had gathered during the day¡ªfruits, mushrooms, and various plants. Some of them crouched near the fire, using sharpened branches to roast mushrooms over the flames. The earthy scent of cooking filled the air, mingling with the tang of smoke. But not everyone waited for the fire to do its work. Most of the group simply ate their foraged food raw, biting into fruits or chewing on mushrooms without hesitation. It was a stark reminder of how far removed they were from even the most rudimentary comforts of modern life. Logan''s mother had settled herself near a makeshift bed of large, overlapping leaves. The bed had been arranged earlier by the big man¡ªthe same one who seemed to act as the group''s leader. His presence lingered near her, a constant reminder of his authority. As she sat, she shifted the pouch that held Logan and gently lifted him out, cradling his small body in her arms. Logan felt a pang of hunger gnawing at his tiny stomach. Despite the humiliation he knew was coming, he was too weak and too desperate to care. His mother pulled aside her crude, animal-skin top, exposing her breast to feed him. Logan''s adult mind balked at the intimacy of the act, but his infant body responded instinctively, latching on as hunger overrode embarrassment. "It''s just survival," Logan told himself, trying to bury the shame he felt. "She doesn''t know I''m¡­ me. She''s just taking care of her baby." As humiliating as it was, the warm, rich milk soothed the ache in his stomach. Logan focused on the act, determined to set aside his pride. His mother''s hand rested lightly on his back, her touch protective and calming, as though she could sense his unease and was trying to reassure him. While he was preoccupied with feeding, the big man approached again. Logan''s instincts bristled at his presence, but his mother didn''t seem alarmed. The man crouched beside them, holding out a small bundle of fruits, mushrooms, and a handful of herbs. His rough hands placed the offering in front of Logan''s mother, who murmured a soft word of thanks, her voice low and deferential. The man lingered, sitting cross-legged near them, his sharp gaze fixed on Logan. There was something piercing about his eyes, but they didn''t hold the intimidation Logan expected. Instead, they seemed contemplative, almost... proud? Logan tried to decipher the man''s expression, but his infant body limited his ability to respond in any meaningful way. He continued nursing, trying to avoid looking directly at the man''s intense stare, though he couldn''t fully ignore it. "What is he thinking?" Logan wondered. "Is he judging me? Or does he see something in me¡ªsomething I don''t understand yet?" The firelight danced across the man''s face, highlighting the hardened lines of his features. He looked like someone who had fought tooth and nail to survive in a brutal world, and yet there was a softness in the way he watched Logan and his mother. It was as if he was assessing them, weighing their worth within the clan. Logan felt a strange mix of emotions¡ªintimidation, curiosity, and an unspoken tension he couldn''t quite place. But the man''s gaze never wavered, his expression unreadable except for that faint flicker of pride. As the clan settled down for the night, Logan''s mind buzzed with questions. Who was this man, and what was his connection to his mother? What role did Logan himself play in the strange dynamics of this group? For now, there were no answers. Only the steady crackle of the fire and the unrelenting awareness that Logan was far from the life he had once known. After the meal and the exhausting events of the day, Logan finally succumbed to the weariness that clung to his tiny body. Sleep claimed him quickly, his dreams filled with fleeting flashes of his old life and the strange new world he now inhabited. When he awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, its warm rays piercing through the dense canopy above. He stirred in the makeshift pouch, blinking sleepily as his surroundings came into focus. His mother was already up and moving, her presence nearby reassuring as she busied herself with morning tasks. Around the camp, the rest of the group was equally active, each person tending to their specific duties. The air was filled with quiet efficiency as the clan prepared for another day of survival. Logan watched in silence as the woman who had started the fire the night before carefully retrieved some charcoal from the remnants of the fire. She placed it into her pouch with the same reverence as before, ensuring the precious embers were secure before the group set out again. The march resumed, their pace steady as they moved through the jungle. The undergrowth was dense, and the air was thick with the hum of insects and the distant calls of animals. Logan''s mother adjusted the pouch as they walked, ensuring he was secure. The rhythmic motion of her steps was almost lulling, but Logan forced himself to stay alert, observing everything he could. After what felt like hours, the sound of rushing water reached his ears. The group emerged into a clearing where a river snaked through the landscape, its surface glinting in the sunlight. The water was clear and inviting, a rare moment of beauty in the otherwise harsh environment. A group of men from the clan took the initiative, moving cautiously toward the riverbank while others stayed behind, scanning the area for potential threats. The men knelt at the water''s edge, filling their pouches with the cool, fresh water. Once filled, they returned to the women, exchanging the full pouches for empty ones before heading back to the river for another round. Logan watched intently from his mother''s side, noting the careful coordination and quiet urgency of the group. The jungle was far from safe, and even something as simple as collecting water required vigilance. The tension shattered suddenly with a sharp cry. One of the men shouted, his voice cutting through the relative quiet like a knife. Chaos erupted as the others turned their heads toward the riverbank, where a massive shape was emerging from the water. It was an alligator¡ªor something similar, Logan thought. The beast was enormous, its powerful jaws snapping as it hauled its bulky form onto the shore. Its scaly hide glistened with water, and its black, unblinking eyes seemed to fixate on the nearest man. The men reacted instantly, with their pouches in hands and sprinting away from the riverbank. Their speed and agility outmatched the creature, whose heavy body made it sluggish on land. The alligator gave chase briefly, its movements awkward and cumbersome, before abandoning the pursuit entirely. With a frustrated hiss, it retreated back into the river, disappearing beneath the surface with a ripple. Logan''s heart was pounding in his tiny chest as he clung to the edge of the pouch. Even from a distance, the sight of the massive predator had sent a wave of fear through him. The sheer size and ferocity of the creature were a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in this world. The clan''s leader¡ªthe big man who had been watching Logan the day before¡ªtook charge immediately. His deep voice barked out orders, and the group quickly retreated into the relative safety of the jungle. Logan''s mother held him tightly as they moved, her pace quick but controlled. Once they were a safe distance from the river, the group came to a halt, their expressions tense but relieved. The leader surveyed them, his sharp eyes assessing the situation before giving a nod of approval. Everyone was accounted for, and the encounter had ended without injury¡ªa small victory in a world where survival was never guaranteed. As the group resumed their march, Logan couldn''t shake the image of the alligator from his mind. It was a stark reminder of how fragile their existence was, how one wrong move could mean the end for any of them. For the first time, he truly grasped the magnitude of the struggle he now faced. This wasn''t just a different time or place¡ªit was an entirely different way of life, one where every moment was a battle for survival. ----------------------- Time had a strange way of passing in the jungle. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, and now, two and a half years had passed since Logan''s unexpected reincarnation into this harsh and unforgiving world. Though his memories of his previous life remained vivid, they had begun to feel more like a distant dream, overshadowed by the constant struggle for survival. By now, Logan had learned to communicate with his mother and the rest of the clan, though their language was rudimentary at best. Conversations were simplistic, built on sentences rarely longer than three or four words. It was a language of necessity¡ªfunctional and to the point, designed for survival rather than eloquence. Words like "danger," "safe," "food," and "hurt" made up most of their vocabulary, with gestures and tone often filling in the gaps. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The first year and a half had been the most challenging of Logan''s new life. Unable to move on his own, he had been entirely dependent on his mother and the clan. Every moment felt precarious, as if one misstep could spell disaster. The jungle was merciless, and Logan quickly came to understand just how fragile life was in this world. One thing, however, had become clear: Logan was valued. To his mother and the clan, he represented the future, a rare and precious symbol of hope. The birth rate in the group was alarmingly low, and the survival of children was even rarer. Over the years, Logan had witnessed two attempts at new life within the clan¡ªboth ending in tragedy. One child had been stillborn, while the other had died within weeks of birth, its tiny body succumbing to the harsh environment. The deaths had cast a pall over the group. The parents of the lost children had been withdrawn, their grief etched into their faces. But life in the jungle left little room for prolonged mourning. The clan was tightly knit, and the shared burden of survival demanded their focus. In time, the parents returned to their routines, their pain dulled but not forgotten. Logan had come to admire the resilience of his new family. Though their language was simple, their knowledge of the jungle was vast. Every plant, root, and mushroom had a purpose, whether for food, medicine, or tools. Injuries and illnesses that might have spelled doom for others were treated with a deft application of natural remedies, often leaving nothing but scars as reminders. As Logan grew, he began contributing to the group in small but meaningful ways. By the age of three, he could walk on his own on the uneven ground, though his steps were unsteady, and he still spent much of his time being carried by his mother to avoid slowing the group. Even so, he made himself useful, gathering small pieces of wood, mushrooms, and other items whenever the opportunity arose. Over the past few months, Logan had been focused on a personal goal. Watching the adults work had sparked his curiosity, and he had become fascinated by their use of crude tools and natural materials. His small hands lacked the strength and coordination of the adults, but he was determined to create something useful. It had been an exhausting process. Logan had spent countless hours of countless days practicing with vines, twisting and weaving them into knots until his fingers ached. His first attempts had been laughable¡ªflimsy strands that fell apart at the slightest tug. But he had persevered, his frustration gradually giving way to progress. And now, at last, he had succeeded. Logan held up his creation with pride: a tightly woven, sturdy rope made from jungle vines. It wasn''t perfect¡ªits texture was rough, and some of the knots were uneven¡ªbut it was functional. He gave it a tentative tug, testing its strength, and was thrilled when it held firm. The achievement filled him with a sense of satisfaction he hadn''t felt in years. It was a small victory, but in this world, small victories were everything. As he showed the rope to his mother, her face lit up with a smile, and she ruffled his hair affectionately. She spoke a few simple words, her tone filled with pride: "Good. Strong vines." Logan beamed, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. For the first time since arriving in this strange, dangerous world, he felt like he had truly contributed to the clan. It wasn''t much, but it was a start. In this harsh, untamed jungle, every step forward mattered. And Logan was determined to keep moving forward, no matter how small those steps might be. With the success of his first project¡ªthe sturdy vine rope¡ªLogan was ready to tackle the next step in his personal plan: creating fire. In this primitive world, fire was life. It meant warmth, protection, and the ability to cook food, and Logan was determined to give his clan the ability to make it from scratch. No more relying on fragile embers carried in pouches. His goal was simple but ambitious: to create a fire bow, a tool that could generate fire using friction. He had seen the process in documentaries during his past life and understood the basic principle. The challenge lay in adapting that knowledge to his new, limited circumstances. The first step has been done and now he needed to find the right materials. Logan knew he needed a dried, soft piece of wood for the fireboard and a harder, dry stick for the spindle. The fireboard would serve as the base, while the spindle would generate heat through friction. He also needed a sturdy bow-shaped branch to tie his vine rope around, and a flat stone to use as a handhold. Logan spent hours scouting the jungle with his mother. He kept an eye out for anything that might fit his needs while pretending to search for mushrooms or kindling, as usual. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a fallen branch from a tree with dry, lightweight wood for the fireboard and a sturdier piece for the spindle. He also came across a curved branch that seemed perfect for the bow. Using a sharp stone, he carved grooves into the fireboard, shaping small divots to hold the spindle in place. It was slow, tedious work¡ªhis small hands weren''t as steady or strong as he wanted them to be¡ªbut he persisted. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he chipped and smoothed the wood, his determination unwavering. With the materials in hand, Logan tied his vine rope to the curved branch, securing it tightly to form the bow. He looped the rope around the spindle, adjusting the tension until it was just right. The rope needed to grip the spindle firmly without snapping under the strain of motion. Next, he picked up the flat stone he had chosen as a handhold. It wasn''t perfect, but it was smooth enough to hold the top of the spindle in place while applying pressure. Logan stepped back, eyeing his creation critically. It was rough, uneven, and far from the polished tools of his previous life, but it was functional. After passing three days on this contraption he hoped that it would work. With everything in place, Logan began practicing the art of making fire. He crouched on the ground, setting the fireboard in front of him with a pile of dried grass and leaves nearby to serve as tinder. He placed the spindle into one of the divots on the fireboard, holding the top steady with the stone. Gripping the fire bow tightly, he began to move it back and forth, causing the spindle to rotate rapidly against the fireboard. For a long moment, multiple hours, nothing happened. Logan''s hands slipped, the spindle wobbled, and the bowstring loosened a lot. Frustration bubbled up, but he gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip, starting again and again. This time, he focused on keeping the motion steady, using even pressure to maintain friction. Minutes passed, his arms growing tired and his palms slick with sweat. Smoke began to rise faintly from the fireboard, and Logan''s heart leapt with excitement. He kept going, ignoring the ache in his muscles. The faint whiff of burning wood grew stronger until, at last, a tiny glowing ember appeared in the groove. "Come on," Logan muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. He carefully transferred the ember onto the pile of tinder, cupping his hands around it to shield it from the breeze. He blew gently, coaxing the ember to life. The dried grass and leaves began to smolder, and moments later, a small flame flickered into existence. Logan stared at the fire, his chest swelling with triumph. He had done it. He had made fire. ---------------- For some time now, the clan had been observing Athan, the child who had miraculously survived the perilous early moment of his life. His continued existence alone was a blessing¡ªa rarity in their harsh world where so many children succumbed to sickness or accidents before their third season. Yet, there was something undeniably strange about him. Like any child, Athan lacked the instinctive caution needed to survive. The clan constantly had to keep an eye on him, ensuring he didn''t wander too far, injure himself, or put dangerous objects in his mouth. But unlike other children, Athan was calm¡ªtoo calm. By the time he was three seasons old, he no longer cried like a normal infant. Instead of wailing for food, he would tap his mother lightly on the arm, his gaze steady and purposeful. The same behavior occurred when he needed to relieve himself. There was an odd deliberateness to his actions, as though he understood more than a child his age should. The most remarkable incident had occurred during the clan''s recent losses. Where the two newborns were taken too soon¡ªone stillborn and the other passing in its sleep¡ªAthan had quietly approached the grieving parents. Without hesitation, the little boy had placed his small hand on their arms or laps, offering a wordless comfort. It was a gesture simple yet profound, and it had a unifying effect on the group. He seemed to embody a strength that kept them together, even during their darkest moments. Over time, the clan began to watch Athan with growing curiosity. There was something about him that drew their attention. Recently, they had noticed him collecting vines from the jungle floor, weaving them together with painstaking care. At first, no one paid it much mind. Vines were used for tying things together, a simple task that required no real skill, a task he had seen adult made and copy it. Why, then, was the boy spending so much time working with them, was that just a child playing? The answer became apparent when he brought his creation to the chief''s mate, the woman who oversaw much of the group''s work. She gasped when Athan handed her the woven strand. Testing its strength, she pulled at it with both hands, expecting it to snap as all vines eventually did. Instead, the rope held firm, requiring significant effort to break. The clan was shocked. How had the child made something so thin yet so strong? But Athan didn''t stop there. The boy soon began gathering pieces of wood, which the clan assumed he was playing with or using to stoke the fire. Again, they dismissed it as a child''s pastime. However, their curiosity reignited when they saw him tying his sturdy vines to the wood. He made peculiar movements with the pieces, experimenting and adjusting as he worked for a few days on it. The clan watched from a distance, their interest growing with each passing day. They couldn''t understand what the boy was doing, but his focus and determination were undeniable. Even when he fumbled or failed, Athan would try again, his small hands moving with a confidence far beyond his years. Then came the moment that changed everything. Lara, the clan''s firekeeper, was the first to notice it: smoke. Faint and wispy, it curled up from the strange contraption in Athan''s hands. She froze, her sharp eyes narrowing as disbelief and interrogation flooded her face. The rest of the clan followed her gaze, holding their breath as Athan continued his work. The smoke thickened, rising in pale ribbons as Athan maintained the rhythm of his movements. Everyone remained still, as though afraid to disturb whatever miracle was unfolding before them. And then, it happened. The child paused, inspecting the glowing ember he had created. With careful precision, he added a small bundle of dry grass and began to blow gently, just like Lara as done night after night. Moments later, a spark turned into a flame, and the golden light of fire illuminated the shadows of the jungle. The entire clan was stunned. No one spoke. No one moved. They simply stared, their minds struggling to process what had just occurred. Athan, a mere child, had created fire. Fire¡ªthe only light they knew that did not come from the sky¡ªwas something they had always carried carefully, preserving embers for fear of losing it forever. How could a child accomplish such a miracle? Athan turned to them, a wide smile lighting up his small face as he proudly displayed his creation on a bigger piece of wood. For a long moment, no one reacted, their disbelief rendering them motionless. Then, Lara stepped forward. Tears welled in her eyes as she knelt beside the fire, her hands trembling. She reached out to touch the flame, not out of fear but reverence. This was not just a fire¡ªit was a gift, a revelation, something beyond her understanding. Athan had changed everything. He had shown the clan a new way, one that could reshape their lives and their future. And though no one could say it aloud, they all felt the same: this child was unlike any other existence. He was extraordinary, he was precious. Chapter 3 - Learning opportunity ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the clan''s stares. What he had thought would be a quiet surprise for his mother had turned into something far larger than he anticipated. The fire he had started, though small and flickering, seemed to have stopped the entire group in their tracks. Every member of the clan stood frozen, their eyes wide and fixed on the flames. All except for the young woman who was normally responsible for tending the fire. She stepped forward slowly, her movements deliberate, and then, to Logan''s astonishment, she knelt in front of the fire as though in reverence. Her head bowed, and she murmured something under her breath, too quiet for Logan to catch. The whole situation made Logan feel¡­ awkward. He glanced at his mother, who was staring at the fire with an expression he couldn''t quite read. Was it pride? Confusion? Fear? He wasn''t sure, but the whole scene was beginning to unsettle him. "Why are they reacting like this?" Logan thought, his brow furrowed. "Either it''s way too much or not enough. There''s no middle ground with these people." Deciding to distract himself, Logan grabbed a mushroom he had set aside earlier and began roasting it over the fire. The others watched him intently, their eyes flicking between him and the flames as though he were performing some kind of sacred ritual. Finally, the silence broke. The adults began speaking all at once, their voices overlapping in a chaotic cacophony. Their language, already simplistic, became even harder to decipher in the jumble of words and gestures. Logan caught snippets here and there¡ªquestions directed at his mother and the chief. His mother responded with a mixture of pride and confusion, her tone soft but firm. The chief, on the other hand, seemed more measured, his deep voice cutting through the noise with brief, authoritative responses. Logan ignored the commotion, focusing instead on his mushroom. Once it was cooked, he blew on it to cool it down before tearing it in half. He carried one piece to his mother, who accepted it with a small smile, then retrieved his tools and returned to the sleeping area. His hands were aching from the effort of the fire bow, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. "Let them figure it out," he thought, casting one last glance at the group. "The firekeeper will take care of the flames now. I''ve done my part." As he settled onto the leaves that served as their bedding, Logan''s mind wandered back to the strange word he had heard repeated throughout the day: Athan. The others had been murmuring it during their frantic discussions, and it seemed to carry some weight. It was a word he had heard before, one his mother had tried to explained to him. He tried to puzzle out its meaning. The way they said it, the emphasis they put on it¡ªit seemed important. He recalled how his mother had pointed at him several times while saying the word. "Maybe it means ''thorax,''" Logan mused, stifling a yawn. "She''s always pointing at my chest when she says it¡­" The thought lingered in his mind as sleep crept in, his body too tired to keep up with the questions swirling in his head. The aches in his hands, the warmth of the fire, the weight of the day¡ªall of it pulled him into a deep, dreamless slumber. The last thing he heard before drifting off was the quiet crackle of the fire, tended by the woman who now seemed to treat it as something sacred. --------------------- When Logan woke, his body immediately reminded him of the previous day''s efforts. His muscles were sore, a deep, dull ache that pulsed through his small frame. He stretched carefully, wincing slightly, before sitting up and surveying the camp. The clan was already awake, busy preparing for the day''s journey. Despite the usual bustle, Logan couldn''t help but notice the way people were looking at him. Their gazes lingered¡ªfilled with a mixture of emotions that were hard to decipher. He saw uncertainty, curiosity, and something resembling awe in their eyes. Some seemed hesitant, almost cautious, while others looked at him with a flicker of hope. Logan shifted uneasily, his gaze landing on the firekeeper and the chief standing together near the edge of the camp. The firekeeper was speaking in hushed tones, her head slightly bowed as she gestured to something in her hands. It took Logan a moment to realize what it was: his fire-making tools. A spark of annoyance flared in his chest. They had taken his tools without asking. Gritting his teeth, Logan stood and made his way toward them. The two noticed his approach, pausing their conversation. The firekeeper''s gaze was intense, fixed on him in a way that made him feel exposed, while the chief''s expression softened into a small smile. As Logan reached them, the chief stepped forward and returned the tools to him, his movements deliberate and respectful. Logan accepted them silently, unsure of what to say. The chief then handed him a small pouch made of animal hide, nodding as if to say it was for storing the tools. Before Logan could respond, the chief ruffled his hair playfully, a gesture that felt both paternal and oddly reassuring. Without another word, the chief turned and walked away to assist the other clan members. The firekeeper, however, remained rooted to the spot. Her dark eyes followed Logan as he stood there, making no effort to hide her interest. Her gaze was intense, unwavering, and it left Logan feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted his weight awkwardly before retreating to his usual place at his mother''s side, where he climbed onto her back in preparation for the day''s journey. The morning passed in its usual rhythm: cautious movement through the jungle, foraging for edible plants, and frequent stops to ensure the area was safe. But the monotony broke when they stumbled across the remains of a predator''s kill. The carcass was partially devoured, the scent of blood and decay hanging in the humid air. The men immediately formed a perimeter around the site, their sharp eyes scanning the surrounding jungle for any signs of danger. Meanwhile, the women approached the remains with sharp cutting stones, working quickly to strip the animal of anything useful. Logan watched intently from his mother''s back, his curiosity piqued. His eyes were drawn to the sinewy tendons still intact on one of the creature''s legs. An idea began to form in his mind, and he tugged gently at his mother''s shoulder, pointing toward the carcass. His mother hesitated, surprised by his request, but after a moment she lowered him to the ground. Logan approached the carcass cautiously, his small hands reaching for one of the cutting stones. The woman wielding it looked at him with a mix of surprise and confusion but handed it over without protest. Carefully, Logan set to work, cutting away a long tendon from the animal''s leg. It was tough work, and his hands trembled slightly from the effort, but he managed to free the sinew. Satisfied, he placed it in the pouch the chief had given him and returned the cutting stone to the woman with a polite nod. Then, he made his way back to his mother, who lifted him onto her back once more. Again, the clan watched him with those same questioning gazes. It seemed his every move was scrutinized, and Logan could feel the weight of their attention pressing down on him. He ignored it as best he could, focusing instead on the tendon he had collected. He wasn''t exactly sure how yet, but he was certain it would be useful for a future project. Once the clan had stripped the carcass of its hide and other usable materials, they left the remains behind, retreating back into the jungle. Logan noticed, as he had before, that they didn''t take any of the meat. His mother had once explained that eating meat was rare among the clan. On the few occasions it had been tried, the result had been sickness¡ªlikely because the meat had been eaten raw or had already begun to spoil. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "It''s something I''ll have to work on," Logan thought as he swayed gently on his mother''s back. "If I can teach them how to cook meat properly, it could be a game-changer for the clan. Another source of food would mean a better chance at survival." The idea filled him with determination. Teaching the clan to eat meat would take time, and he would need to approach it carefully to avoid resistance. But he was beginning to realize that his knowledge¡ªfragmented as it was¡ªcould make a real difference in their lives. As the day wore on, Logan rested against his mother''s back, the tendon safely tucked away in his pouch. The clan continued their search for food and shelter, moving ever deeper into the jungle, their lives shaped by the delicate balance of survival. And in Logan''s mind, plans were already forming for what he could do next. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the jungle, the clan stopped in a small meadow for the night. Everyone began unpacking their few possessions, setting up makeshift bedding from large leaves and preparing for the evening ahead. Logan remained on his mother''s back, watching the routine unfold, his sore muscles reminding him of the previous day''s efforts. Suddenly, the chief approached. His imposing figure was enough to command attention, and Logan could feel the shift in the atmosphere as the clan turned to watch. The chief exchanged a few quiet words with Logan''s mother, who hesitated briefly before nodding. Then, with surprising gentleness, the chief lifted Logan from her back and carried him toward the Firekeeper. The Firekeeper was crouched near a pile of gathered materials¡ªdried grass, twigs, and small branches. She had everything ready to start the evening fire but had yet to ignite it. When the chief set Logan down beside her, it became clear what they wanted. The chief gestured toward the tools in Logan''s pouch, then at the pile of kindling, his expression firm but encouraging. Logan blinked, momentarily perplexed. His body still ached, and the idea of repeating yesterday''s exhausting task was not particularly appealing. But the chief''s steady gaze and the expectant silence of the clan left him little choice. "Alright," Logan thought, rolling his shoulders and reaching for his tools. "Let''s do this." Logan set to work, carefully laying out the fireboard, spindle, and bow. The entire clan had gathered to watch, their eyes fixed on him with a mix of anticipation and wonder. The weight of their attention was heavy, but Logan pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. The process was slower this time. His sore muscles protested with every motion, and it took longer to find a steady rhythm with the bow. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he worked, the spindle spinning against the fireboard with a rhythmic creak. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Finally, a faint wisp of smoke began to rise. Encouraged, Logan redoubled his efforts, ignoring the ache in his arms. Within minutes, a glowing ember formed in the fireboard''s groove. He gently transferred it onto the bundle of dried grass, cupping his hands around it and blowing softly. The ember smoldered, then flared to life, transforming into a small flame. Carefully, Logan placed the flame under the pile of twigs and branches. The dry materials caught quickly, and the fire grew, its light and warmth spreading across the meadow. The clan watched in silence, their expressions a mix of awe and emotion. Even the chief, usually stoic, seemed moved by the sight. As the fire crackled to life, the Firekeeper stepped forward, her eyes filled with determination. She gestured to Logan and the tools, clearly asking to try the method herself. Logan, pleased that she wanted to learn, nodded and began explaining the process as best he could. His words were simple, and his gestures filled in the gaps, demonstrating how to hold the spindle, how to use the bow, and how to maintain steady pressure. The Firekeeper followed his instructions carefully, her hands more practiced and stronger than his. Despite her skill, there were small missteps¡ªletting the spindle slip or pressing too hard on the fireboard. Logan corrected her patiently, pointing out how to avoid breaking the tools or injuring herself. Her second attempt was smoother, and within minutes, smoke began to rise. With Logan''s guidance, she coaxed the ember into existence and transferred it to the dried grass. When the flame finally appeared, the Firekeeper''s face lit up with a radiant mix of joy and relief. She had done it¡ªshe had replicated the "miracle." The clan erupted into murmurs, their simple language unable to fully express the significance of the moment. For them, this wasn''t just fire¡ªit was something new, something that could change the way they lived and survived. The Firekeeper, now smiling, turned to Logan and placed a hand on his shoulder, murmuring a few words he couldn''t quite understand. Her gratitude and pride, however, were unmistakable. As the night settled in, the fire burned brightly, a symbol of a new possibility for the clan. Logan sat near his mother, exhausted but satisfied. The chief passed by and ruffled his hair again, a gesture of approval that made Logan feel strangely proud. "This is just the beginning," Logan thought, watching the flames dance. He could already see the shift in the group''s dynamic. The Firekeeper had learned the skill, and with her strength and dedication, she could teach others. Fire, once a fragile, fleeting resource, was now something they could create on demand. Logan leaned back against his mother, his sore body finally relaxing as sleep crept in. For the first time, he felt like he wasn''t just surviving in this world¡ªhe was starting to make it better. ------------------ The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy, waking Logan gently from his slumber. As his eyes adjusted to the soft light, he felt a renewed sense of determination. Yesterday''s success with teaching the Firekeeper how to start a fire had emboldened him, and today, he was ready to try something new. During their march the day before, as his mother carried him through the jungle, an idea had taken root in his mind. The tendon he had procured from the predator''s carcass wasn''t just a trophy¡ªit was a resource, flexible and strong. While Logan''s small body limited his ability to do many things, tools could bridge that gap. He envisioned something simple but effective: a slingshot. The idea had come to him when he remembered the childhood toy, a tool both entertaining and surprisingly practical. With the tendon''s elasticity, it could be a functional weapon. All he needed now was the right branch. As the day began, Logan set out with a purpose. His small hands sifted through fallen branches and debris, searching for the perfect piece of wood¡ªsomething sturdy with a natural fork to hold the tendon in place. Hours passed, but nothing seemed quite right. Many branches were too brittle, too thick, or too warped. Frustration began to creep in, and Logan considered postponing his project. But as he scanned the camp, his eyes landed on a pile of branches gathered by the Firekeeper. Among them was a piece of wood with a nearly perfect Y-shape. Excitement sparked in Logan''s chest as he approached the Firekeeper. He gestured to the branch, then pointed to himself, silently asking if he could take it. The Firekeeper, still preparing to make the fire, gave him a curious but approving nod. Logan smiled, leaving his fire-making tools behind as a gesture of goodwill, and carried the branch off to begin his work. Logan found a quiet spot at the edge of the camp, away from the bustling activity of the clan. Using a flat stone and a sharp-edged rock, he set to work shaping the branch. He snapped off the excess pieces, then began smoothing the surface with the flat stone, his hands steady and patient. The task was painstaking and required intense focus. He worked slowly, refining the grip of the slingshot until it felt comfortable in his small hands. He sanded down the edges, smoothing every surface to ensure it wouldn''t splinter or cut him during use. Time slipped away as he toiled, the repetitive motion both calming and satisfying. As the light began to fade, Logan moved closer to the fire, using its glow to finish his work. The Firekeeper cast him occasional glances but didn''t interrupt, seemingly content to let him continue. Eventually, Logan was satisfied with the branch''s shape. It was smooth and solid, with a natural grip that fit perfectly in his hand. Taking the tendon from his pouch, he carefully tied each end to the two prongs of the branch, pulling it tight to ensure proper tension. He used the sharp rock to cut off the excess tendon, leaving behind a taut, elastic string. Testing the slingshot, Logan tugged gently on the tendon. It held firm, the tension strong enough to launch a projectile but not so tight as to risk breaking. A smile crept across his face as he realized it was ready. With the slingshot complete, Logan moved away from the camp, clutching a small stone he had picked up from the ground. The clan, as always, watched him with curious eyes, their work slowing as they turned to see what he was doing. Logan ignored the stares, focusing instead on a tree a few meters away. He placed the stone in the pocket of the tendon, pulling it back carefully to test the tension. A deep breath steadied his aim before he released the string. The stone shot forward with a sharp whoosh, cutting through the air before striking the tree with a resounding crack. Bark splintered and fell, leaving a visible dent where the stone had hit. Logan grinned, examining the slingshot for any signs of damage. The branch and tendon remained intact, a testament to the care he had taken in its construction. Satisfied, Logan walked over to the tree to inspect the impact. The bark was partially crushed and stripped away, proof of the slingshot''s power. It wasn''t a weapon that could take down a predator, but for small game or even defense, it was a promising start. When Logan turned back to the camp, the entire clan was watching him. Their expressions were a mix of wonder and intrigue, their eyes darting between him and the slingshot. Even his mother, who always looked at him with affection, seemed particularly proud. Logan felt the weight of their attention but decided to ignore it. Instead, he made his way to his mother, climbing into her lap and sharing a quiet moment with her. She handed him a piece of fruit, and he ate in silence, letting the day''s accomplishments sink in. As the clan settled in for the night, Logan''s mind was already racing with ideas for the future. The slingshot was a small victory, but it represented something much larger: the ability to innovate and adapt. He couldn''t rely on his physical strength yet, but with tools like this, he could begin to carve out a place for himself in the clan¡ªand, eventually, help them thrive. For now, though, he was content to rest. His muscles ached from the day''s work, but it was a satisfying ache, one that came from progress. As he drifted off to sleep, the slingshot resting beside him, Logan knew he was taking another step toward shaping his new life in this untamed world. Chapter 4 - A First Hunt ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- The morning greeted Logan with a renewed sense of excitement. After the previous day''s success in crafting his slingshot, he was eager to test it further. Deciding to simplify his pouch, he left the fire bow with the Firekeeper, freeing space to store his slingshot and a collection of small rocks for ammunition. As the clan prepared for their daily journey, Logan began practicing his aim, targeting nearby trees. Hitting large objects like trees was easy, but smaller targets, such as individual leaves, proved far more difficult. Most of the time, his shots missed entirely. On rare occasions, a stone struck its mark, but Logan knew those hits were more luck than skill. Frustration crept in, but he pressed on, determined to improve. Throughout the day, as his mother carried him through the jungle, Logan continued practicing. He focused on small animals like birds, but shooting from his mother''s moving pace made aiming almost impossible. His stones flew wide, rarely even grazing his targets. Periodically, he replenished his stock of rocks, picking up smooth stones from the ground when the clan paused to forage. Despite his efforts, Logan''s day was marked by failure. By the time they reached their campsite for the night, he was in a sour mood, irritated with his lack of progress. Once the clan began setting up camp, Logan wandered a short distance from the adults to collect himself, though he stayed close enough to remain safe. While staring into the forest, Logan noticed a medium-sized bird resting on a low branch. The bird seemed calm, oblivious to his presence. Logan''s irritation gave way to focus. This was his chance. He crouched low, picked up a small stone, and readied his slingshot. Unlike earlier, Logan now had the advantage of a stationary target and a stable stance. He took his time, adjusting his aim carefully. The tension in the tendon-string felt steady beneath his fingers. Finally, he released the stone. The projectile flew true, striking the bird on the side of its head with a sharp crack. The bird fell from the branch, its limp body landing with a dull thud on the forest floor. Logan''s heart raced with a mixture of triumph and disbelief¡ªhe had done it. The chief, who had been observing Logan from a distance, approached as the boy stood frozen in place. With a large hand, he patted Logan''s small shoulder, signaling him to stay put. The chief disappeared briefly into the trees, returning moments later with the bird in hand, its neck clearly broken. He looked at the bird, then back at Logan, his expression a mixture of perplexity and curiosity. Logan, now putting his slingshot away, extended his hands toward the bird, silently asking for it. The chief handed it over, and Logan dragged the bird to the fire, the weight of its body awkward in his small hands. The clan''s eyes followed his every movement as he gestured to his mother for a pouch and a cutting stone. Once equipped, Logan set to work. He plucked the bird meticulously, storing the feathers in the pouch for future use. His small hands struggled at times, but his determination drove him forward. After plucking, he used the sharp stone to slice open the bird''s abdomen, removing its entrails piece by piece and tossing them into the fire. The flames hissed and crackled as the remains burned, sending up small wisps of smoke. Satisfied with his preparation, Logan enlisted his mother''s help to gather large, green leaves. He wrapped the bird in several layers, creating a protective cocoon to keep it from burning over direct flames. Logan cleared a section of the fire''s embers, using a stick to push the glowing coals into a small pile. He arranged flat stones over the embers, creating a makeshift surface, and placed the wrapped bird on top. Throughout the process, he maintained the fire with the Firekeeper''s assistance, ensuring the embers stayed hot without scorching the leaves too much. As time passed, the meadow filled with the enticing aroma of roasting meat. The rich, savory smell wafted through the air, drawing curious glances from the clan. Logan watched the bird carefully, turning it occasionally to ensure even cooking. After what felt like hours, Logan judged the bird to be ready. He asked one of the men to place a large, flat stone near the fire, then rolled the bird onto it. Using a cutting stone, he carefully peeled back the now-charred leaves, revealing the cooked bird inside. Its golden-brown skin glistened slightly, and the sight reminded Logan of a roasted chicken from his previous life. The clan stared in awe, the smell clearly awakening their hunger. Logan''s pride swelled, but before he could take a bite, the chief stepped forward. The chief made it clear with a few simple gestures: he would taste the bird first. He pointed to Logan, then to his stomach, indicating his concern for the boy''s safety. If the bird caused illness, it would be better for him to endure it than the child. Tearing off a small piece, the chief chewed slowly, his expression unreadable. After swallowing, he sat down beside the fire, instructing the others to resume their activities. They would wait and see if he had any adverse reaction. Over the next hour and a half, the chief remained seated by the fire, his watchful eyes flicking between the bird and Logan. His large, calloused hands rested on his knees as he sat in silence, his expression a mask of calm deliberation. Occasionally, he would glance at the boy, who busied himself with small tasks to distract from the tension. Logan pretended not to notice, but inside, anticipation gnawed at him. Would the chief declare the bird safe to eat? Would his efforts be validated, or would they have to abandon the meal altogether? Logan''s mother sat nearby, her gentle presence grounding him. Though she said nothing, her eyes followed every movement of the chief, her posture slightly tense. She had watched Logan''s careful preparation of the bird and trusted his instincts, but even she seemed to hold her breath as the chief deliberated. The Firekeeper, seated closer to the flames, watched Logan intently. Her admiration for the boy had grown ever since he had taught her how to make fire. To her, Logan wasn''t just a child¡ªhe was a bringer of knowledge, someone who had changed her world in ways she hadn''t imagined possible. She didn''t speak, but her unwavering gaze was filled with pride and curiosity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the chief rose from his seat. His towering frame cast long shadows across the fire as he turned to face the clan. He gestured with one large hand, motioning for the others to approach. His expression was neutral but not grim, and Logan felt a flicker of hope. The clan hesitated at first, their movements slow and cautious. Many of them had bad memories associated with eating meat¡ªillnesses and discomfort caused by improperly prepared food. The unfamiliar smell of roasted bird hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the jungle, and it seemed to pull them forward despite their reservations. Logan''s mother was the first to step forward. She knelt by the fire, gently tearing off a small piece of the bird and handing it to Logan. Her face, usually calm and composed, held a hint of pride. "Here," her eyes seemed to say, "this is your moment." Logan accepted the piece of meat and hesitated for a brief second, his mind racing with doubt. But as he bit into the tender flesh, all his concerns melted away. The meat was rich and flavorful, its texture soft yet satisfying. A wave of relief and satisfaction washed over him, and he couldn''t stop a small smile from spreading across his face. "It works," he thought, glancing at the others. "It''s good." Encouraged by Logan''s reaction, the other adults began to take small portions of the bird. Their movements were tentative, their expressions wary. The first bites brought mixed reactions. Some coughed lightly, the taste and texture unfamiliar to them. Others chewed slowly, their brows furrowed in concentration as they adjusted to the new experience. The Firekeeper was among the first to show true enthusiasm. She closed her eyes as she savored her portion, a soft hum of approval escaping her lips. When she looked at Logan, her admiration was plain to see. She said nothing, but her nod spoke volumes. To her, this wasn''t just a meal¡ªit was a testament to Logan''s ability to lead and inspire change. Gradually, the initial hesitation began to fade. The clan members, emboldened by the reactions of those around them, took larger bites. Quiet murmurs of approval spread through the group, accompanied by a growing sense of excitement. For the first time, they were tasting meat that didn''t make them sick, meat that was properly cooked and safe to eat. Logan sat by the fire, watching the scene unfold with a deep sense of fulfillment. His mother, sitting beside him, placed a gentle hand on his back, her pride unmistakable. Though the clan didn''t use many words, their body language spoke volumes. Gratitude, curiosity, and even a touch of wonder filled their expressions as they enjoyed the meal. The chief, who had been observing quietly, sat down beside Logan. He didn''t say much, but his presence alone carried weight. When Logan looked up at him, the man met his gaze with a faint but approving smile. The chief reached out and ruffled Logan''s hair¡ªa gesture that had become his way of showing trust and acknowledgment. Logan felt his chest swell with pride. He wasn''t just surviving in this world¡ªhe was contributing, making it better for the people around him. But still, there was so much to teach, so much to learn. For now, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the quiet sounds of the clan enjoying their meal, Logan allowed himself to relax. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. -------------------- Time in the jungle passed in a rhythm of survival, each day blending into the next. For Logan, however, the passing months marked not just survival but a mission¡ªone that would shape the clan''s future. The lack of communication within the group had become a growing source of frustration. Words were scarce, and while gestures and tones carried the weight of most conversations, they were no substitute for true understanding. Logan decided to change that. He began focusing heavily on teaching the clan to speak more effectively, starting with his mother. Their bond, strengthened by their time together, made her the ideal student¡ªand teacher in return. Logan spent hours every day pointing to objects in their environment, repeating the words in clear, deliberate tones. "This," Logan would say, holding up a rock. "Stone." His mother, at first hesitant, would mimic his words: "S-tone." When she stumbled, Logan corrected her patiently. Over time, her confidence grew, and the words began to stick. As they worked together, Logan also learned from his mother. She would point to objects and say their names in their language, teaching him the words they already knew. Through these exchanges, Logan began to piece together more of their vocabulary and the cultural meaning behind certain terms. One word in particular stood out: Athan. His mother often said it while pointing at him, and others in the clan echoed it when referring to him. At first, Logan thought it was a term for his chest or a nickname tied to his age. But through careful observation and repeated questioning, he uncovered its true meaning. It was his name. The realization struck him deeply. "Athan" wasn''t just a word¡ªit was the name his mother and the chief, his father, had given him. It was their way of acknowledging him as part of the clan, as their child and as someone who belonged. For a moment, Logan felt a swell of emotion. In his previous life, he had always taken his name for granted. Now, hearing it spoken by his new family, it felt like a gift. With this newfound connection, Logan redoubled his efforts. He wanted to give the clan the tools to communicate more clearly, to share ideas and thoughts that went beyond gestures and grunts. His mother was his first focus, but soon others began to show interest. The Firekeeper, often curious about Logan''s activities, became his second student, followed by a few of the younger men and women. Logan kept the lessons simple. He started with words for the basics of their world: trees, leaves, water, food, fire. Once those words were understood, he introduced actions like "run," "eat," "carry," and "build." Every evening by the fire, he would sit with the willing, using gestures and demonstrations to reinforce the new words. The lessons weren''t without challenges. Many in the clan struggled with pronunciation or were resistant to change. Logan quickly learned to adapt, simplifying his approach and breaking the words into smaller, manageable parts. He used repetition and patience, ensuring that no one felt embarrassed or overwhelmed. His efforts began to pay off. Slowly but surely, the clan''s communication improved. Sentences that had once been three or four words began to grow longer, more detailed. The conversations became more dynamic, filled with questions, observations, and even laughter. The adults started sharing ideas more freely, discussing plans for the next day or strategizing on how to avoid predators. One evening, as the clan gathered around the fire, the chief approached Logan. His father was a man of few words, but that night he spoke in the clearest sentence Logan had ever heard from him: "You teach good. Make strong clan." The words filled Logan with pride. He nodded, determined to keep pushing forward. He knew there was still a long way to go¡ªyears, perhaps¡ªbut every small step counted. The newfound ability to communicate better began to transform the group. The Firekeeper used her words to explain how to care for embers and start fires more efficiently, saving time and resources. For Logan, the improvement in communication wasn''t just about efficiency; it was about connection. The more they could talk to each other, the more they could share their thoughts, dreams, and emotions. It was a step toward understanding each other not just as members of a clan, but as individuals. Logan knew the journey wasn''t over. There were still many words to learn, many ideas to share. But the progress they had made in just a few months gave him hope. Language wasn''t just a tool for survival¡ªit was a bridge to something greater. Over the months, "Athan" had grown into his role as a vital part of the clan. His sling had become a reliable tool, and with increasing practice, he was able to bring down small birds regularly. At first, the clan was hesitant to embrace this new addition to their diet. The taste of cooked meat was unfamiliar, and memories of sickness from eating it raw lingered in their minds. But as time passed, their hesitance gave way to cautious enjoyment, and eventually, even anticipation. Meat became a welcomed part of their meals, and Logan took quiet pride in watching the clan''s appreciation grow. As their understanding of language progressed, so did Logan''s ability to learn from the clan. While they were new to the idea of eating meat regularly, their knowledge of the jungle''s fauna was vast. The adults spoke of animals Logan had never seen, describing their habits, tracks, and behaviors in growing detail. Some creatures roamed the dense jungle, while others were glimpsed in what appeared to be open prairies beyond their usual range. Logan listened carefully, piecing together patterns and ideas about how to approach different animals. Logan''s success with the fire bow had sparked an idea: if the clan could learn to make strong rope like the one he had used, they could create more advanced tools for hunting. Using the same method he had employed with his mother and the Firekeeper, Logan began teaching the clan how to weave vines into sturdy ropes. It wasn''t easy. Many of the adults struggled with the technique at first, their fingers clumsy and unused to the fine manipulation required. Logan demonstrated patiently, repeating the process until they began to get the hang of it. Over time, their work improved, and soon the clan had a supply of durable ropes. With the ropes complete, Logan introduced his next project: the bolas. He explained the concept as simply as he could, miming the motion of throwing and describing how the weights would entangle a target''s legs, causing it to trip. He crafted the first bolas himself, tying smooth, round stones to the ends of a braided rope. After testing it on a nearby tree, Logan handed it to one of the men, encouraging him to try. The man was hesitant at first, but after a few attempts, he managed to get the bolas to spin properly before launching it. The rope wrapped neatly around a low branch, and the man''s face lit up with excitement. Soon, others were practicing, their growing proficiency promising a new way to hunt larger game. Next, Logan turned his attention to another essential weapon: spears. The clan already used simple wooden sticks for various tasks, but Logan wanted to make them more effective for hunting. He showed the group how to shape the tips into sharp points, then harden them by charring them over a fire. The heat-tempered wood became tougher and less likely to splinter upon impact. The clan quickly embraced the idea, and soon, nearly every adult had a spear with a hardened tip. Logan encouraged them to practice using their new weapons, demonstrating how to thrust and practice throwing to increase accuracy, even to his small frame did not permit using the true weapons. While the results were mixed at first, the group improved steadily, their movements becoming more confident and precise over the span of time. ------------ After the success of the bolas and the hardened spears, Logan¡ªAthan¡ªfound himself thinking about the clan''s future in a broader sense. The tools he had introduced were improving their ability to hunt and defend themselves, but they were still living a precarious existence. Each day was a struggle to find food and water, and the constant movement through the jungle was taking its toll. Logan''s thoughts often drifted to the two failed births the clan had endured. He hadn''t been old enough to understand all the details at the time, but the grief and exhaustion etched into the parents'' faces were unforgettable. Now, as he observed the group''s struggles, he believed he had found the root of the problem. The constant traveling through the dense jungle was hard on everyone, but especially on pregnant women. Logan had seen how the mothers-to-be were forced to keep up with the relentless pace, carrying loads and facing the same dangers as everyone else. The lack of rest, combined with inconsistent access to food and water, left their bodies too weak to support their pregnancies. "It''s no wonder the births failed," Logan thought. "How could an unborn child survive in these conditions when even the strongest adults struggle?" The realization struck him deeply. If the clan didn''t change its way of life, it would continue to lose its future. Something had to be done. Logan began to develop an idea that seemed almost impossible in their current situation: settling down. The concept of a permanent home was alien to the clan, whose lives had always revolved around constant movement. But Logan was determined. He believed that if they could find a safe, resource-rich location, they could build a stable life¡ªone where mothers could rest, children could thrive, and the group as a whole could prosper. The more he thought about it, the clearer his vision became. A settlement would provide more than just shelter. It would offer security, a steady supply of food and water, and a foundation for the clan to grow stronger. During their daily marches, Logan began paying closer attention to the terrain. He memorized the locations of streams, fruit-bearing trees, and areas with fertile soil. Whenever they passed through a meadow or a clearing, he evaluated it with new eyes, considering its potential as a future home. One evening, as the clan settled by the fire, Logan¡ªAthan¡ªsat beside his mother, carefully inspecting the seeds he had gathered during the day. He turned them over in his small hands, feeling the smooth and rough textures of their shells. His mother, noticing his focused expression, leaned closer, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes. She gestured toward the seeds, her brow furrowed. "Athan¡­ why?" she asked, her voice hesitant but clear. Logan looked up, surprised and pleased by her question. Her vocabulary had improved considerably over the past months, and it was moments like this that made him feel his efforts were truly making a difference. He held up a seed between his fingers, pointing to it and then to the ground. "Seed. Plant here." He mimed digging a hole and placing the seed inside, then gestured with his hand as if a plant were growing. His mother tilted her head, her expression a mix of intrigue and doubt. "Grow? Eat?" Logan nodded eagerly, repeating, "Yes, grow. Eat." He reached for a piece of fruit they had collected earlier, holding it up as an example. "Fruit. Seed." He pointed to the seeds in the fruit and then back to the ones he had collected. "We put in ground. Wait. Grow more fruit." Her eyes widened slightly as the idea began to take root. "More¡­ food?" "Yes!" Logan said, his voice tinged with excitement. "More food. Same place. No move." At this, her expression shifted to one of hesitation. She pointed into the distance, mimicking the clan''s usual motion of traveling through the jungle. "But¡­ move. Danger." Logan understood her concern. The jungle was full of threats, and staying in one place felt counterintuitive to their way of life. But he was prepared to explain. Picking up a small stick, he began to draw in the dirt, sketching out a simple scene. He drew a tree near a stream, marking it with lines for water. Around the tree, he added small circles to represent plants. He pointed to the tree. "Here. Safe. Water." He tapped the ground around it. "Food. Stay." His mother studied the drawing intently. "Stay? No¡­ move?" "Stay," Logan repeated firmly. "Rest. Safe for baby." He paused, searching her face to see if she understood. "No tired. No hungry." Her eyes softened at the mention of babies. The losses the clan had suffered were still fresh in her memory, and the idea of giving future mothers and children a better chance resonated deeply. She pointed to her belly, mimicking pregnancy, and then made a walking motion with her fingers. "Move¡­ hard. Baby¡­" She frowned, finishing her thought with a simple, "Gone." Logan nodded solemnly. "Yes. Gone. But if stay¡­" He tapped the drawing again. "Baby rest. Mother rest. Strong." Her gaze shifted between Logan and the drawing, the weight of his words settling in. "Safe," she said quietly, as if testing the idea on her tongue. "Safe," Logan echoed, offering her a small, encouraging smile. "We make safe." She was silent for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the dirt drawing. Finally, she nodded, her hesitation giving way to a glimmer of hope. "I help." Logan''s heart swelled with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," he said softly, taking her hand in his. "We do this together." Chapter 5 – A Vision for the Future ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- Without a word, she suddenly stood up and took his hand, her grip firm but not harsh, and began leading him away from the fire. Athan blinked, surprised, but followed without question. Her determination was evident in the way she moved, her gaze fixed ahead as she led him through the camp. Athan''s small legs struggled to keep up, his thoughts racing. "What is she doing?" he wondered. His mother didn''t stop until they stood before the chief¡ªhis father¡ªwho was seated on a large rock near the fire. The chief looked up, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. He said nothing, but the way he set aside the spear he was sharpening made it clear he was ready to listen. His mother gestured to Athan, speaking in their growing but still simple vocabulary. "Athan¡­ plan. Tell." Athan froze for a moment. He hadn''t expected this, but as the chief''s steady gaze fell on him, he knew he couldn''t falter. Taking a deep breath, he began to explain. Athan reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of seeds, holding them up for his father to see. "These," he said, his voice steady despite his nerves. "Seeds. Food." The chief frowned slightly, tilting his head in confusion. "Food? Small." Athan nodded and knelt down, drawing in the dirt at the chief''s feet. He sketched a simple picture of a seed sprouting into a plant, then bearing fruit. "We plant. Here," he said, pointing to the ground. "Wait. Stay. Grow. More food." The chief leaned forward, studying the drawing with a serious expression. Athan''s mother knelt beside him, her face a mixture of pride and encouragement. "Grow food?" the chief asked, his deep voice slow and deliberate. "Stay?" "Yes," Athan said, his voice firm. He drew a small circle around the plant in his sketch, adding more details¡ªa stream, trees, and hills. "Here. Stay. No move." The chief''s frown deepened, and he gestured toward the jungle. "Move for food. Danger." Athan expected this objection. He pointed to the stream he had drawn. "Water. Safe," he explained. Then, gesturing to the hills surrounding the area, he added, "Mountains. Protect. No danger." The chief''s expression remained unreadable, but he didn''t interrupt. Encouraged, Athan continued. He drew small dots in the meadow, representing people. "We build here," he said, pointing to the dots. "Shelter. Fire. We stay. Defend." Athan looked directly at the chief, his young face serious. "Mother," he said, gesturing to his mother beside him. "Baby. Walk¡­ tired. Baby gone." His mother''s eyes softened, and she nodded, her hand resting gently on her stomach to emphasize his point. Athan pressed on, pointing to the shelter in his drawing. "Here, mother rest. Water, food easy. Baby stay alive." The chief''s eyes flicked to his mate, the weight of her grief from their previous losses still evident. Then his gaze returned to Athan, more focused now. "Defend?" the chief asked, tapping the drawing with one large finger. Athan nodded quickly. "Yes. Defend. Spears, bolas. Make traps. No danger." The chief fell silent, his brows furrowed as he looked up, his eyes fixed on the fire while he considered the boy''s words. He had spent his life leading through movement, ensuring survival by staying ahead of threats. The idea of settling in one place, of trusting the land rather than their instincts to flee, was both foreign and dangerous. His grip tightened slightly on his knee as he weighed the risks¡ªwould the land provide enough food? Could they truly defend themselves? His gaze flickered toward his mate, remembering the sorrow of past losses, before returning to the boy, seeing not just a child, but someone with a vision beyond mere survival. Athan could see the gears turning in his father''s mind, the way he weighed the risks against the potential rewards. Athan decided to press his advantage, sensing that his father needed one final push. He pointed to the seeds again. "Food here. No need to hunt every day. Stronger clan. Safe mothers. Safe babies. More people." He mimed a small family, placing his hands close together and then spreading them outward to represent growth. "Stronger. Bigger. Safe." The chief''s expression softened slightly, and he looked to Athan''s mother, who met his gaze with quiet determination. A brief moment passed between them, unspoken understanding reflected in their eyes, before she nodded firmly. Her gaze held a quiet determination that matched her son''s. Finally, the chief spoke, his voice low but steady. "Good place¡­ hard to find." Athan smiled, a flicker of relief washing over him. "We look. Find. Together." The chief stood slowly, his imposing frame towering over Athan. He placed a large hand on the boy''s shoulder, his grip firm but not heavy. "Athan¡­ smart. We try." The words were simple, but their weight was immense. Athan felt his chest swell with pride, not just for himself but for what this moment represented. He took a deep breath, his fingers curling slightly into fists as a wave of determination settled over him. His vision for a better life¡ªa safer, stronger clan¡ªwas no longer just a dream. It was a possibility, one the chief was willing to explore. As the family rose, Athan''s mother smiled at him, her hand brushing his hair in a rare show of affection. The chief''s approval had given her hope, and she seemed to see her son as a new light¡ªas someone who could truly change their lives. -------------- The jungle seemed endless, an intricate maze of towering trees, dense undergrowth, and the constant hum of life. For months, the clan moved through it, searching for a place to call home. Athan walked¡ªor rather, was carried¡ªalongside his mother, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain for any signs of a suitable location. The journey was grueling, testing both the endurance and the resolve of the group. Finding a suitable site for settlement was no small task. The criteria Athan had explained to the chief were clear: the location needed abundant water, fertile land, natural protection, and access to food. Yet, as the clan moved, it became apparent how rare such a place was. Streams and rivers were plentiful, but they often ran through open areas that lacked the protection of mountains or dense jungle. Fertile land could be found, but it was often overshadowed by the threat of predators or dangerous terrain. Athan quickly learned that his vision, while simple in theory, was complex in execution. Hunting remained a constant necessity, but it was fraught with challenges. The clan, as they walked through new terrain searching for a promised land, relied on Athan''s bolas, hardened spears, and rudimentary traps to catch what they could, but success was inconsistent. Small animals¡ªbirds, rodents, and the occasional rabbit-like creature¡ªwere their primary targets, and while they provided sustenance, they were far from plentiful. When the clan attempted to hunt larger game, the risks multiplied. Deer-like creatures with powerful legs often bolted before the hunters could get close enough. On rare occasions, they managed to land a hit with their spears, but the animals were strong and fast, often escaping with only minor injuries. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Athan noticed the frustration growing among the hunters. He worked tirelessly to refine their techniques, demonstrating how to aim more effectively with the bolas and advising them on where to target an animal''s vital points. While the group showed gradual improvement, the bigger game remained elusive. The jungle wasn''t just home to prey¡ªit was also the domain of predators. The clan''s survival depended on their ability to avoid these threats, and every rustle of leaves or distant growl set them on edge. Athan quickly learned to identify the warning signs: the faint paw prints in the dirt, the eerie silence that fell over the jungle when a predator was near, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood lingering in the air. One day, as the clan approached a small clearing, they spotted a large feline creature crouched over a fresh kill. Its sleek, muscular body was dappled with dark spots, blending seamlessly into the shadows. The hunters froze, gripping their spears tightly, while the women and Athan huddled together at the back. Athan''s mother clutched him protectively, her eyes darting toward the chief for guidance. With a swift hand signal, the chief directed the group to back away slowly, their movements deliberate and silent. The clan retreated into the undergrowth, hearts pounding, as the predator remained focused on its meal. Encounters like these were a grim reminder of the jungle''s dangers. Athan began to see the toll it took on the group¡ªtired faces, wary eyes, and the constant tension that came with knowing they were never truly safe. Despite the hardships, there were moments of reprieve. Occasionally, the clan stumbled upon areas rich with edible plants and fruit, allowing them to rest and replenish their strength. Athan would take these opportunities to collect more seeds, carefully selecting those from the most abundant and nutritious plants. The Firekeeper often sat with him during these breaks, her quiet admiration evident as she watched him work. She had become one of his strongest supporters, always eager to learn and help wherever she could. Together, they would sort the seeds and discuss¡ªusing their growing vocabulary¡ªthe potential of planting them in a future home. As the clan began moving again, Athan walked beside his mother. At five years old, he was no longer the small, helpless child who needed to be carried everywhere. He could keep pace with the adults, though his shorter legs meant he tired more easily. Still, he pressed on, determined not to slow the group. His mother occasionally glanced down at him, her expression a mix of pride and worry. "Tired?" she asked softly. Athan shook his head, though his steps were slowing. "No. I can walk." She smiled faintly and handed him a small piece of fruit from her pouch. "Eat. Help." He accepted it gratefully, taking small bites as they walked. The sweet juice revived him slightly, and he tightened his grip on the pouch of seeds he always carried. The thought of planting them in fertile soil kept him moving. The chief, too, bore the burden heavily. His stoic expression rarely faltered, but Athan could see the way his shoulders tensed whenever the hunters returned empty-handed or the group was forced to move yet again without finding a suitable site. For Athan, the journey was both exhausting and enlightening. He learned more about the jungle with every step¡ªthe way the terrain shifted, the patterns of animal behavior, and the signs of fertile land. Each failure only fueled his determination to succeed. He often found himself lost in thought, planning and re-evaluating his vision for a settlement. One evening, as the clan settled by a narrow stream, Athan sat beside the fire, studying the seeds he had collected that day. The soft murmur of conversation surrounded him, a comforting hum in the quiet jungle night. His mother sat nearby, her hand resting gently on his back, a silent reminder of her unwavering support. The chief approached, his shadow long in the firelight. He crouched beside Athan, his expression thoughtful as he watched the boy sort the seeds. "Athan," he said simply, his deep voice breaking the silence. Athan looked up, meeting his father''s steady gaze. "Yes?" The chief pointed to the seeds, then gestured to the jungle around them. "Still¡­ look?" "Yes," Athan replied, his voice firm despite his weariness. "Still look. Find home." The chief nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. He reached out, ruffling Athan''s hair with a rare but familiar gesture of approval. "We trust you," he said, his words simple but heavy with meaning. Athan felt a spark of determination reignite within him. The journey was far from over, but they were moving forward¡ªstep by step, day by day. Somewhere out there, the perfect place awaited them. And when they found it, he knew it would all be worth it. The jungle had been their world for as long as Athan could remember. Its dense canopy, alive with the hum of insects and the rustling of unseen creatures, had both sheltered and challenged the clan. But now, after months of relentless movement, the trees began to thin. The dense undergrowth gave way to patches of open ground, and the air, once heavy with the earthy scent of the jungle, felt lighter. As they pushed forward, the trees finally gave way entirely, revealing a breathtaking sight: a vast plain stretching to the horizon. The grass swayed gently in the wind, rippling like waves in a sea of green. In the distance, faint and almost ethereal, the jagged peaks of a mountain range pierced the sky. The clan came to a halt, their usual silence broken by soft murmurs of awe. For many, this was the first time they had seen anything beyond the confines of the jungle. Athan, now walking alongside his mother, stared at the scene before him, his small chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Athan stepped forward, his keen eyes scanning the expanse. The openness of the plain was both exhilarating and intimidating. Unlike the jungle, where danger could hide in the shadows, here it was all exposed. The mountains in the distance, however, drew his attention. Their rugged forms stood like silent guardians, promising both challenge and sanctuary. "Mother," Athan said, tugging gently at her hand. She turned to him, her dark eyes filled with both curiosity and concern. "Yes, Athan?" she replied, her words now more fluid thanks to their months of practice. He pointed toward the mountains. "There. Mountains¡­ good place." His mother squinted, following his gaze. "Far," she said simply, her tone questioning. Athan nodded. "Far, but¡­ safe. Mountains protect. Water, food there." He gestured to the right, where the jungle seemed to curve along the edge of the plain. "Follow jungle. Stay close. Then reach mountains." She frowned slightly, her maternal instincts worrying about the risks. "Danger. Open." Athan understood her hesitation. The plain was exposed, offering little in the way of immediate shelter or cover. The jungle, for all its dangers, had at least provided hiding places and some measure of protection from the elements. Here, they would be vulnerable, their movements visible to both prey and predator alike. But staying in the jungle meant constant danger, dwindling food sources, and no true home. He weighed the risks in his mind, knowing that while the open land was perilous, it also held the promise of a safer future. "We stay near jungle," he assured her. "Move carefully. Watch for danger." The chief approached them, his tall frame casting a shadow over Athan. His gaze was fixed on the mountains, his expression unreadable. "Athan," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Speak." Athan swallowed, gathering his thoughts. He pointed to the plain and then to the mountains beyond. "Jungle ends here," he explained. "We follow edge. Stay close to trees. Mountains have water, food, and safe places. Good for clan." The chief nodded slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. He then looked down at Athan, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Danger here. Big animals. Maybe people." Athan had considered that. The openness of the plain meant they would be visible to both predators and, potentially, other humans. "Yes. Danger," he admitted. "But we watch. Move slow. If stay here," he gestured to the jungle behind them, "no safe. No home." The chief seemed to weigh his words carefully. He turned to the clan, gesturing for quiet. "We follow edge of trees. Stay close. Watch." There were murmurs of agreement, though a few members of the clan looked uneasy. Some cast wary glances at Athan, uncertain if the chief''s trust in a boy''s vision was wise. Others exchanged thoughtful looks, considering the possibility of a more stable future. The Firekeeper stepped forward, her face lined with determination. "Athan¡­ smart. We trust." Her words carried weight, and the tension in the group eased slightly. The chief gave a final nod, signaling his agreement. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting the plain in golden light, the clan came across signs of life. Tracks¡ªlarge, clawed, and fresh¡ªcut across the ground near the edge of the jungle. The chief knelt to inspect them, his expression grave. "Big predator," he said simply, gesturing for the group to move closer to the trees. Athan crouched beside him, studying the tracks. They reminded him of a large cat, though he wasn''t entirely sure. "Watch carefully," he murmured, echoing the chief''s sentiment. The group moved in tighter formation, their spears and bolas at the ready. Ahead, in the distance, a herd of grazing animals could be seen, their movements slow and deliberate as they roamed the plains. A potential food source¡ªbut also a sign that predators would not be far. The Firekeeper stayed close to Athan, her protective instincts kicking in as she watched the shadows for movement. As night fell, the clan found a small clearing near the edge of the jungle. The chief decided it was safe enough to stop, and the group quickly set up camp. Athan helped his mother gather leaves and sticks, his small hands working diligently despite his fatigue. Sitting by the fire later, Athan stared out at the open plain, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. The mountains were still far, but they felt closer now¡ªlike a promise waiting to be fulfilled. His mother sat beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "We find it," she said quietly, her voice filled with quiet confidence. Athan nodded, his young face set with determination. He was no longer just a child following orders¡ªhe was becoming someone the clan looked to for guidance. "We will." As the fire crackled and the stars began to fill the sky, Athan felt a renewed sense of purpose. The cool night air carried the distant hoots of nocturnal creatures, and the soft rustling of leaves whispered promises of the journey ahead. The jungle was behind them, the plain stretched out before them, and the mountains stood as their goal. The journey was far from over, but for the first time, it felt like they were truly moving toward a place they could call home. Chapter 6 - Planning the future ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developer and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- Athan wakes up in the morning, surrounded by his people, who are already preparing to set off once again. The air is crisp with the lingering chill of the night, and the first rays of sunlight paint the sky in hues of gold and orange. Over the next few days, as the clan steadily moves toward the distant mountains they first spotted on the horizon, he observes his surroundings with keen interest. The once-distant peaks grow closer with each passing day, their towering presence a silent promise of shelter and stability. The journey is arduous, but the anticipation of reaching a place they might call home fills him with a quiet resolve. As they traverse the vast plains, Athan carefully studies the environment. From afar, he watches the herds of grazing animals, their powerful bodies casting long shadows across the land. He notes their movements as they migrate across the open grasslands, their hooves kicking up dust in soft golden plumes. The rhythmic strides of the herd create ripples through the golden sea of swaying grass. He observes smaller creatures¡ªnimble rodents darting between tufts of wild vegetation, their tiny bodies barely visible before vanishing into the safety of burrows. Birds soar overhead, their wings catching the warm currents of air, their sharp cries slicing through the vast openness of the land. A lone predatory bird hovers in the distance, its keen eyes scanning for unsuspecting prey. The flora fascinates him just as much as the fauna. He notices clusters of hardy plants, their thick roots clinging to the dry earth, thriving despite the harsh conditions. Some plants bear small, edible berries, while others release a fragrant aroma when brushed against. He comes across patches of broad-leafed vegetation, their surfaces glistening with morning dew, and wonders if they could hold water within their stems. Vibrant wildflowers dot the landscape, their delicate petals swaying gently in the wind as if whispering secrets of the land. He mentally catalogs each one, wondering which might be useful for food, medicine, or shelter in the days to come. Every detail fuels his growing understanding of this new land¡ªone that might soon become their home, a place where they can thrive instead of merely survive. After eight days of arduous travel, they finally stood at the foot of the mountains. The towering peaks loomed ahead, their jagged summits piercing the sky and crowned with wisps of drifting mist. The morning sun cast a golden glow upon the rocky slopes, highlighting the deep crevices and ledges carved by time and weather. Dense forests clung to the base of the mountains, their emerald canopy stretching far, a stark contrast to the open grasslands they had traversed. To the left, a winding river sparkled under the sunlight, its waters fed by distant glaciers, carving a path through the valley like a silver ribbon. The air was cooler here, carrying the rich scent of damp foliage and blooming orchids. The sound of birds echoed through the trees, mingling with the distant roar of a hidden waterfall cascading down the mountainside. Looking back, the vast plains stretched endlessly, golden under the midday sun, dotted with the dark silhouettes of grazing herds. The wind whispered through the valley, carrying with it the promise of shelter, safety, and new possibilities. The clan stood in silence for a moment, taking in the breathtaking sight, realizing that their journey had brought them to the threshold of something new, something permanent¡ªa home. Athan carefully surveys the surroundings, his gaze sweeping over the landscape with a calculating eye. He understands that for the establishment of a village, having a river flowing through its heart would be the most advantageous choice. The presence of fresh water would ensure not only sustenance but also fertile land for future crops and an easily accessible resource for daily needs. Observing the gentle bend of the river winding its way through the valley, he envisions a settlement nestled along its banks, protected by the natural barriers of the mountains and nourished by the life-giving waters. He steps forward and points toward the distant waterfall, the sound of its rushing waters loud even from where they stood. Mist rose from the cascade, dancing in the air, a sign that the water was strong and steady. Athan turned to the chief, his voice careful but sure. "River good. Falls strong. Water always here." He glanced at the others, making sure they understood. "We go there. Stay. Rocks protect. Water give life." He gestured toward the cliffs. "Safe. No danger from open land." The chief studied him, his sharp eyes sweeping over the land. Around them, the clan whispered among themselves, some nodding in agreement. Athan could feel their eyes on him, not just as a child, but as someone whose words mattered. His chest swelled slightly¡ªnot with pride, but with the weight of responsibility. The chief considers his words, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studies the terrain. Around them, members of the clan exchange glances, murmuring in agreement. The idea of a secure and resourceful location appeals to them, though a sense of unease lingers. They have never stayed in one place for more than two days, and the thought of settling feels foreign and uncertain. Yet, as Athan speaks with growing confidence, they begin to see him in a new light¡ªnot just as a child with ideas, but as someone who understands survival, someone who might lead them toward a future they had never dared to imagine. After some time, they arrive near the place where the waterfalls crash against the ground. The roar of the cascading water fills the air, sending fine droplets of mist swirling around them, dampening their skin and hair. As they approach, Athan moves carefully to the edge of the water, his eyes scanning every detail of the terrain. The area is steep, its uneven rock formations shaped by the relentless force of the waterfall. The ground is slick with moisture, and patches of moss cling stubbornly to the stones. The basin, carved slowly over time by the ceaseless current, shimmers under the filtered light of the jungle canopy, an ever-deepening pool of clarity. Too steep for the water to linger in pools, the constant movement prevents stagnation, and its narrow formation ensures no large predator could comfortably claim it as hunting ground. His sharp eyes sweep over the surroundings, taking in the tangled web of roots that extend into the damp soil, securing the towering trees that lean toward the water. The jungle here is thick, the undergrowth teeming with unseen life. Fallen trunks and broken branches litter the ground, some freshly snapped, others softened by decay, evidence of time and nature''s unpredictable fury. Looking upward, Athan studies the jagged cliffs above, where darkened cracks hint at the mountain''s slow but inevitable erosion. He imagines the force with which chunks of rock, massive trunks, or entire boulders could tumble from above, smashing into the land below without warning. This place, for all its beauty, is a precarious one. Realizing the risk, he raises his hand sharply, signaling for the others to stop. His expression hardens as he steps back from the unstable terrain. "No good," he mutters, shaking his head. If they built their village here, the first heavy storm or shifting earth could send a landslide barreling down, wiping away everything they worked for. His thoughts race as he considers alternatives. They need water, but they also need security. Turning his gaze along the river''s curve, he searches for higher, more stable ground¡ªsomewhere still near the life-giving water, but protected from the ever-present threat of nature''s fury. His heart beats faster, not with fear, but with excitement. He envisions a plateau overlooking the river, where the land is solid, free from the threat of landslides, and where they could build their homes without fear of nature''s unpredictable wrath. The trees here grow taller, their roots deeply embedded in the soil, a sign of stability. Birds flit between the branches, undisturbed by frequent rockfalls, further confirming the area''s safety. The sound of the waterfall is softer here, a distant roar rather than an overwhelming presence, allowing for a peaceful environment where they could live and grow. This land holds the promise of a future, a place where children could run freely, where crops could be planted, and where they could finally stop wandering. But they must choose wisely, for this decision will shape the fate of their people for generations to come. Turning back to his clan and looking at his father, Athan spoke with conviction. "Here good. Near water. Near mountain. Wood here. Food here," he said, pointing first to the river, then to the dense jungle around them. His gestures were deliberate, emphasizing the abundance of resources¡ªfresh water flowing strong and clean, sturdy trees offering both shelter and tools, and the promise of game hiding within the thick foliage. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He knelt down, pressing his hand into the earth, feeling the dampness beneath his fingers. "Soil good. Can grow food," he added, his simple words carrying weight. The land was fertile, rich with the promise of harvest. He imagined rows of crops swaying in the wind, feeding his people for generations. He lifted his gaze to the cliffs, their jagged edges softened by the mist rising from the waterfall. "Rocks high. Protect us. No big danger here." His eyes swept over his people, watching as they exchanged glances, uncertainty still lingering in some, but curiosity growing in others. His heart pounded. "We stay here. Build strong home." His voice, though made up of simple words, carried confidence. He needed them to believe, to see what he saw¡ªa land not just to pass through, but to claim as their own. A future that could begin here. The chief, observing the surroundings with a critical eye, nodded in agreement. He then turned to Athan and, in their simple language, asked, "What do now?" Athan straightened, his mind already set on the next steps. "First, we find food¡ªberries, roots, small animals. Hunters go that way, find good meat," he said, pointing toward the edge of the jungle where game trails disappeared into the undergrowth. "Others gather¡ªnuts, fruit, strong plants for making things." He turned to another group. "Take fallen wood¡ªdry, strong. Even wet wood, we dry. Use for fire, tools. Take big rocks, make a pile¡ªgood for walls, good for holding fire." He knelt down, running his fingers through the tall grass. "This good. We cut, make rope, tie wood. Need strong rope for build home." As he stood, his gaze moved over the clan, watching their faces. "Now we gather. Work fast. Sun moves, we need safe before dark. After, we build¡ªshelter, fire, place to stay." His voice was steady, filled with certainty. The task ahead would be challenging, but with everyone working together, their future would begin to take shape. He could see the tension in some, the uncertainty in others¡ªbut most of all, he saw readiness. This was the first step toward something greater. As everyone began gathering materials from the surroundings, Athan directed them on where to place each pile of supplies. He moved through the forming worksite with determination, ensuring everything had a proper place. Women skilled in crafting strong ropes worked swiftly, their hands deftly weaving long strands of grass and fibers into durable bindings. A group of men, their muscles straining, gathered heavy logs and stones, stacking them into organized piles. Their focus remained on collecting as much as possible before the sun reached its peak. Sweat glistened on their skin as they carried the weight of their labor, their grunts blending with the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Every resource gathered was crucial, and the urgency in their movements reflected the clan''s need to prepare for what lay ahead. Others, preferring the tasks of gathering and hunting, ventured into the forest. They scoured the underbrush for edible roots, nuts, and berries, carefully selecting mushrooms that bore no signs of poison. Hunters moved quietly along game trails, their keen eyes searching for signs of small prey¡ªrabbits, fowl, or anything that could provide sustenance for the group. Athan approached Lara and gestured to an open space near the center of their camp. "Here. Fire go here." His words were simple but clear. He handed her several stones collected by the others. "Put stones here. Make safe." He demonstrated how to create a circle of stones to contain the fire, ensuring it would not spread beyond control. With a nod, Lara got to work, carefully positioning the stones. Meanwhile, Athan''s eyes scanned the gathering efforts, ensuring that all tasks were proceeding smoothly. Every step, every action brought them closer to transforming this land into their home. He decided it was time for him to contribute as well. He carefully selected long, straight branches, ensuring they required minimal modification. With some of the sturdy rope that had already been crafted in the previous weeks, he set to work designing a new type of trap¡ªthis time, for fish. He planted the wooden stakes firmly into the damp soil, forming a cylindrical structure. Using the rope, he meticulously tied the branches together, shaping the frame into something resembling a large woven basket. Hours passed as he refined his creation, testing the flexibility of the wood and ensuring the structure remained intact. Once the main shape was complete, he lined the bottom of the larger section with thick bark to prevent fish from escaping through the base. At the entrance, he carefully placed sharpened twigs, angled inward, allowing fish to swim in but making it nearly impossible for them to leave. Satisfied with his work, Athan lifted the trap¡ªit was as tall as he was and surprisingly sturdy. Now came the true test: seeing if the trap would catch anything in the small river connected to the waterfall. As he prepared to head toward the water, his father, who had been keeping an eye on him while lifting heavy tree trunks onto a pile, stepped in his path. The chief''s expression was firm, making it clear he did not want Athan near the river. Without hesitation, Athan reached into his pouch and pulled out some leftover meat he had saved from the previous night. Holding it up to his father, he explained in their simple language, "Trap must go in water. Hold it under rocks. Put two, three big stones. Meat inside. Tomorrow, we check." The chief studied him for a moment before nodding. Taking the trap from Athan, he made his way to the river, doing exactly as his son instructed. Athan watched intently, feeling a swell of pride¡ªnot just for his trap, but for the quiet acknowledgment from his father, who, even in his strength and wisdom, had followed his son''s guidance. After finishing his immediate tasks, Athan decided to explore further, walking the perimeter of the camp before heading upriver and into the dense forest. He moved with deliberate steps, his sharp eyes scanning every detail. He tried to commit everything to memory¡ªthe hidden paths beneath the thick vegetation, the subtle shifts in the river''s current, the footprints left behind by unseen creatures. Every element was a piece of a puzzle, and Athan was determined to understand how they all fit together. Unbeknownst to him, his father, Wade, followed at a short distance, his watchful gaze never leaving the boy. He had long accepted that he did not fully understand his son''s way of thinking. Athan would often stand still for long moments, seemingly lost in thought, his eyes fixed on something unseen. Then, as if a decision had been made in his mind, he would spring into action, constructing new tools, devising new methods¡ªthings no one in the clan had ever considered before. Wade''s duty had always been clear: protect the clan, keep them strong, and ensure their survival. He had witnessed Athan''s growth, seen the boy''s mind working in ways he could not comprehend. He still remembered the moment his son had first created fire¡ªa moment that was burned into his memory, a moment that had changed everything. That was when Wade had realized: this child was different. This child would lead them to something greater. And so, Wade remained silent, watching his son''s every move, following his steps without interference. He no longer questioned Athan''s actions. Instead, he observed, knowing deep in his heart that the boy was guiding them toward a future stronger than anything they had ever known. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the valley, Athan made his way back to the camp, his mind still processing everything he had observed throughout the day. The sky burned in hues of deep orange and crimson, fading into the encroaching blue of twilight. A soft breeze carried the scent of damp earth and the lingering aroma of burning wood from the fire that crackled steadily at the heart of the settlement. Arriving at the fire, Athan lowered himself onto the ground, settling into the dirt with a sturdy branch in his hands. He turned it idly between his fingers, his gaze distant as he gathered his thoughts. The quiet murmur of the clan around him was a comforting presence, the rhythmic sounds of their work blending with the chorus of crickets and the distant call of nocturnal creatures awakening in the jungle. After a long moment, he leaned forward, pressing the tip of the branch into the dirt. Slowly, with careful strokes, he began to draw. First, he traced a long, curved line, marking the mountain''s boundary. Then, with deliberate precision, he outlined the waterfall, sketching the winding path of the river as it meandered through the valley. His fingers worked methodically, placing the camp at the heart of the drawing, the fire at its center, surrounded by the features he had committed to memory. Every mark in the earth represented something vital¡ªtheir surroundings, their resources, their future. As he worked, the soft rustling of movement caught his attention. One by one, members of the clan gathered around him, forming a quiet circle. They stood or crouched at the edges of the fire''s glow, their expressions filled with curiosity and wonder. Some whispered to one another, pointing at the lines he etched into the soil. For many, this was a new way of seeing¡ªan entire world mapped out before them in a way they had never considered. Athan didn''t speak at first, letting them absorb what they were seeing. When the drawing was complete, he sat back and surveyed his work. He had drawn everything as accurately as his memory allowed, each line a representation of their surroundings. He raised his head, looking at the expectant faces around him. He pointed first to the waterfall. "Here¡ªwaterfall," he said simply, dragging his finger along the lines. "There¡ªriver." His hand moved over the sketch again. "Camp here. Fire here." His words were short, direct, but filled with meaning. His father stood nearby, arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp gaze locked onto the drawing in the dirt. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable. But he did not speak, nor did he interrupt. He only watched, his eyes shifting from the map to his son. The gathered materials, the efforts of the clan¡ªeverything they had worked for¡ªlay around them, waiting for direction. Athan exhaled, a small but determined smile forming on his lips. He looked up, meeting his father''s gaze. "Tomorrow, this place will change." The fire crackled softly, illuminating the faces of his people, their expressions a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation. Athan felt the weight of their expectations settle on his shoulders¡ªbut he was ready. The future was waiting, and for the first time, they were no longer wanderers. They were builders of something new. Chapter 7 - First Step for a good meal ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- The first rays of sunlight crept over the towering mountains, casting long shadows across the valley. The mist rising from the river glowed golden in the early light, swirling gently above the water''s surface before dissipating into the cool morning air. The jungle beyond the settlement stirred to life¡ªbirds calling from the treetops, unseen creatures rustling through the undergrowth, and the distant howls of predators retreating from the night''s hunt. Athan lay on his side, his eyes open, watching the embers of last night''s fire flicker softly in the dim light. He hadn''t slept much. His mind had been too full, buzzing with thoughts of what today would bring. This was the beginning¡ªthe first true day of making this land their home. He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him like a thick blanket. Today, there was no more wandering, no more searching. Today, they built. Carefully, he sat up, his movements slow so as not to wake the others still curled in their damaged furs and leaf mats. He could hear the steady breathing of his people, the soft murmurs of those stirring in half-sleep. But soon, the camp would be alive with movement, the air filled with the sounds of labor and determination. Rising to his feet, Athan stepped away from his leaf matress, his gaze immediately falling to the ground near the edge of the fire where he had drawn his plan the night before. The heat of the fire had dried the soil slightly, preserving the intricate lines he had etched. To his quiet satisfaction, the clan had treated it with reverence, as if it were an untouchable piece of art. No careless footprints had disturbed the careful marks, no stray hands had smudged his work. The firelight had cast flickering shadows over it through the night, illuminating the vision he had laid out for their new home. He crouched beside it, running his fingers lightly over the earth, feeling the cool contrast beneath the warmth of his skin. This plan was more than just a drawing¡ªit was a foundation, a promise of what they would create. He pressed his hand into the ground beside it, as if grounding himself in the reality of what was to come. This place was theirs now. A flicker of movement caught his eye. His father was awake, standing at the edge of the clearing, his massive frame silhouetted against the soft morning light. Wade said nothing at first, simply watching his son. There was something unreadable in his expression¡ªan unspoken understanding between them. Athan set to modifying the plan he had drawn the night before. The first step was clear: fortifying the camp to increase their level of protection. At present, the only thing keeping predators at bay was the fire, its flickering flames a temporary deterrent. But fire alone would not protect them forever. As time passed and the clan remained in one place, predators might grow accustomed to the flames, their curiosity outweighing their caution. To ensure true safety, they needed walls. With careful strokes, Athan traced a curved line around the waterfall on the map, marking where the defensive barrier should stand. The natural terrain gave them an advantage¡ªone side was already protected by the sheer rock wall and the rushing water, leaving only the open land to the front and sides to be enclosed. He envisioned a tall palisade, wooden stakes driven deep into the ground, interlocked tightly to prevent anything from slipping through. It would not just keep out predators but also serve as the first step in defining their new home as a permanent place of safety. The task ahead was immense. Trees would need to be felled, stripped, and sharpened. The logs had to be thick enough to withstand external forces but light enough for the clan to manage. And to do all this, they required tools¡ªsomething they had never needed before in their nomadic life. Until now, they had survived with the bare essentials, prioritizing mobility over craftsmanship. But now, they were here to stay. The time had come to forge their own tools. The first step would be crafting something strong enough to cut through wood¡ªan axe. Without it, the walls could not be built, and their survival in this place would remain uncertain. Athan looked at the gathered materials around the camp¡ªthe scattered pile of stones, littles bones from past hunts, and the long branches collected the previous day. Ideas began forming in his mind. Before they could build a village, they first had to build the tools that would shape it. Athan crouched near the gathered materials, his fingers sifting through the pile of stones, searching for the right one. He needed a piece of rock that was hard enough to hold an edge but not too brittle. His hands settled on a rough-edged stone, roughly the size of his father''s palm, with one side already showing signs of a natural break. However, it wasn''t sharp enough yet. Gripping the stone tightly, he picked up another rock¡ªdenser and more solid¡ªand began striking the first one against it. With each careful, deliberate hit, small flakes chipped away, refining the edge. Sparks flickered briefly in the dim morning light as the stones clashed. As he worked, members of the clan began to gather around him, their curiosity piqued by the loud clash from stone against stone. They had seen Athan create before, had witnessed his ideas turn into tools and solutions, and now they watched in silence, eager to understand. After several minutes of precise strikes, the stone had a sharper, more refined edge. He turned it over in his hand, running his fingers along the blade-like section, testing its sharpness. Satisfied, he turned to the pile of branches, selecting one that was thick and sturdy but not too heavy. The wood needed to be strong enough to withstand repeated strikes yet light enough to be wielded effectively. Using a knife, he began carving a groove into the strongest extremity of the branch. Then the boy placed the stone and the wood piece on the ground and took a strip of dried tendon from the pile of supplies. He had gathered it from past scavenging, knowing that its toughness and flexibility would be useful. Holding the stone against the groove of the wooden branch, he carefully began wrapping the tendon around it, binding the rock tightly. He twisted and pulled with precise force, ensuring that the tension was enough to keep the head secure without cracking the wood. To reinforce the binding, he reached for a length of dried grass rope, braided tightly the day before. He wrapped this around the tendon, securing the axe head even further, making sure that with each layer, the stone pressed deeper into the wood. Then, using a small sharp bone, he wedged it between the stone and the wood, locking the pieces together so they wouldn''t shift under pressure. Once satisfied, he lifted the axe and tested its weight in his hand. It felt heavy, the grip secure, but the movement was not fluid. The tool was larger than he had expected, and when he stepped toward a nearby fallen log to try it, the first swing was clumsy. The stone head struck the wood with a dull impact, but the force lacked precision. His grip wavered slightly, making the strike unsteady. He swung again, trying to correct himself, but the effort felt unnatural, his small frame struggling with the motion. Before he could attempt a third strike, a firm hand caught his wrist. Wade, his father, stood beside him, eyes scanning the tool before shifting to Athan''s grip. "Too big," Wade observed, his deep voice calm but firm. He gestured toward the axe. "How?" Athan took a step back, regaining his balance before looking up at his father. "This... axe," he said, giving the tool its name. "Not for break. For cut." He turned toward the fallen log and pointed to the thick, unyielding wood. "Before, we snap, pull, break branches. Slow. Hard. This... cut. Now we chop. Make fast." Wade studied the axe, then the tree, then his son. After a long pause, he reached out, grasping the handle in his massive hands. He tested its weight, his experienced grip adjusting naturally. With one smooth motion, he raised the axe and brought it down. The sharpened stone bit deep into the wood, sinking in with satisfying precision. The sound echoed through the camp, drawing the attention of the clan. Wade pulled the axe free and nodded. "Good. We cut. We build?" Athan turned back to the clan, his father lifting the axe for them to see. "Now, we build." --------- That morning, most of the men were working on making axes for themselves under Athan''s guidance. He moved between them, correcting grips, demonstrating how to secure the stone heads more firmly, and ensuring the bindings were tight enough to withstand repeated strikes. The air was filled with the rhythmic sounds of stones being chipped and tendon being pulled taut around wooden handles. The clan, once unfamiliar with new tools, was learning fast. Every so often, Athan would pause, watching their progress, making sure each axe was strong enough to endure heavy use. His own small hands, still sore from his first attempt, worked tirelessly to adjust the positioning of the stones and reinforce the bindings with more layers of tendon. Meanwhile, his father, Wade, was focused on felling the trees that Athan had just marked with an X near the camp. The markings were deliberate¡ªchosen for their straight trunks and positioning to avoid weakening the forest''s natural wind barrier. Wade moved with practiced efficiency, gripping the axe firmly and swinging it with calculated force. His strikes landed cleanly, the sharpened stone biting deep into the wood, sending small chips flying with each impact. Unlike the others who were still growing accustomed to the tool, Wade handled it with natural strength, adapting quickly to its weight and balance. As Athan had instructed, Wade aimed to cut as close to the ground as possible without striking the soil. The boy had told him that the roots often concealed hidden stones, and one careless strike could shatter the delicate rock head of the axe. Sweat glistened on his brow as he worked, his muscles straining with each swing. The sound of each impact echoed through the camp, steady and powerful, like a heartbeat pounding against the forest. The first tree groaned under its own weight, tilting forward as the final strike severed the last of its support. The trunk cracked loudly before it plummeted to the ground with a thunderous crash, shaking the earth beneath their feet. The birds that had been nesting in the canopy scattered into the sky, their panicked cries fading into the distance. The sound rippled through the camp, and several clan members turned to watch as Wade straightened, rolling his shoulders before moving on to the next marked tree. Athan observed the fallen trunk, stepping closer and running his fingers along its surface. This was only the beginning. Soon, these trees would be more than just fallen wood. They would be protection, shelter, the first true walls of their home. One by one, the landscape around them began to change¡ªtrees that had stood for years, untouched by human hands, now lay on the forest floor, ready to be stripped, shaped, and transformed into the foundation of something greater. As more and more men acquired their own axes, the camp buzzed with movement. Some focused on felling trees, their rhythmic swings echoing through the clearing, while others stripped the felled logs of their branches, piling them neatly for future use. The smaller branches were set aside for now, waiting for Athan to determine their purpose. Amid the growing activity, Athan approached his father, who was drenched in sweat from his labor. "Break? Check fish trap?" he asked simply. Wade, pausing to wipe his brow, nodded, exhaling deeply before following his son toward the river where they had set the trap the previous evening. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The river glistened under the midday sun, the water''s surface disturbed only by the occasional ripple of a passing fish. As they reached the trap, Athan stopped his father before he could step into the water. "Wait," he said, pointing. "Hand here first. Hold." He gestured toward the end of the trap where fish would have entered, ensuring that Wade secured it before removing the stones anchoring it in place. Wade followed his son''s instructions, placing a firm hand over the entry point. As he carefully lifted the trap, a sudden burst of movement from within startled him. The woven structure trembled in his grip as frantic, erratic motions came from inside. Frowning, Wade cautiously placed his other hand beneath the contraption, worried that it might tear under the weight of its contents. Through the gaps in the woven wood, he caught glimpses of wriggling shapes¡ªseveral fish, their slick bodies thrashing wildly, and something else, smaller but just as lively. His grip tightened, ensuring nothing escaped. Athan''s face lit up with excitement. "It worked!" he exclaimed. "Take to fire. Show others!" Wade, still eyeing the quivering trap with some surprise, nodded and carefully carried it back toward the center of their soon-to-be village. The clan members, noticing the unusual object in his grasp, gathered curiously around the fire pit. Lowering it gently to the ground, Wade stepped back as Athan knelt beside it. With precise movements, the boy tilted the trap slightly and removed the piece of bark blocking the larger exit hole. One by one, the catch spilled onto the ground¡ªfour medium-sized fish, one particularly large one, and three small crayfish, their claws snapping instinctively at the air. Athan was filled with pride at his first successful catch from the river, but as he turned to look at the gathered clan members, he noticed their hesitation. Their expressions were a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Fish were not part of their usual diet, and the sight of the wriggling creatures, their sleek bodies glistening in the sunlight, unsettled many of them. Some whispered among themselves, their eyes darting between Athan and the unusual prey he had brought back. Others remained silent, their skepticism clear. Sensing their reluctance, Athan squared his shoulders and met their uncertain gazes with a determined nod. He could already see the possibilities forming in his mind¡ªnew ways to cook, different methods to preserve, and the potential to expand their food sources beyond the usual game and gathered plants. This was an opportunity, and he was not going to let it slip away. They had spent too long relying on unpredictable hunts. Fish, if properly trapped, could become a stable and renewable source of food. His hands tightened around the crayfish as he lifted them, their tiny claws snapping at the air. The hard shells clicked against each other as he gently placed them into a pouch, ensuring they wouldn''t escape. With deliberate movements, he reset the bark at the trap''s entrance, sealing it once more to prepare it for another catch. Turning to his father, Athan gestured toward the river. "Trap¡ªagain. More food." Wade, still studying the fish with mild curiosity, gave a brief nod before hoisting the trap onto his shoulder. Without hesitation, he made his way back to the river to secure it in place once more, ensuring their new method of gathering food would continue to provide for the clan. Athan then gathered three women from the group¡ªSio, a petite woman with long dark brown hair; Hin, of medium height with short pale brown hair; and his mother. He explained that he had a task for them, something important that would aid the entire tribe. He walked to a nearby pile of branches and selected one approximately 20 centimeters in diameter. To ensure uniformity, he handed it to a man nearby who was holding an axe, instructing him to cut it into evenly sized sections of about 20 centimeters. To provide a guide, he gave him a piece of wood already close to the desired size, ensuring precision. Once the pieces were prepared, Athan retrieved a well-sharpened stone knife and picked up the first wooden section. He studied its grain, running his fingers over its rough surface before carefully beginning to carve. The blade scraped against the wood, peeling away layers with each controlled motion. He worked with deliberate precision, ensuring he didn''t slip and cut himself. As he shaped the wood, his hands moved steadily, his breathing synchronized with each stroke. The wood shavings curled away, falling in soft piles around him as the raw block slowly took on a more recognizable form. As he worked, the three women observed him closely, their eyes following every movement of his hands as he shaped the wood. The sound of the stone knife scraping against the timber filled the air, mingling with the occasional crackle of the fire nearby. Athan while making it, made sure to explain each step, demonstrating how to angle the blade to remove layers without weakening the structure and how to smooth the rough edges to prevent splinters. He showed them how to carve out the center gradually, ensuring the bowl would hold enough without becoming too thin and fragile. When the bowl was finally shaped, he turned it over in his hands, nodding in satisfaction. He then presented it to the women. With careful gestures and simple words, he explained that they needed to carve one for each member of the tribe. Wooden bowls would make eating easier, improve cleanliness, and help them store food in a more practical way. Sio, Hin, and his mother exchanged glances, nodding in understanding before eagerly picking up their own pieces of wood and tools to begin their work. Rising to his feet, Athan made his way back to the ever-growing pile of felled tree trunks, their stripped branches scattered nearby. His eyes settled on the largest trunks among them, a massive log set aside due to its sheer size¡ªnearly a meter in diameter. He ran his fingers over the rough bark, gauging its weight and sturdiness before deciding on its purpose. Knowing he couldn''t handle it alone, Athan sought out his father, who had returned from the river some time ago and was assisting the other men with their tasks. As expected, Wade did not hesitate when his son called upon him. Athan explained what he needed, marking a precise spot about 1.3 meters from the base of the log using his stone knife. Without question, Wade gripped his axe and began chopping, each powerful strike sending deep echoes through the clearing. The thick wood resisted at first, but with steady persistence, the sharpened stone blade worked through the fibers, gradually weakening the trunk at the marked point. While his father worked, Athan turned his attention to another task. He sought out long, straight branches and, using his sharp stone knife, carefully stripped them of their bark, revealing the pale, smooth wood beneath. He inspected each one, ensuring they were uniform in size and free of knots that could weaken their structure. Once satisfied, he searched for two forked branches shaped like the letter ''Y.'' Finding two of similar dimensions, he carefully trimmed and smoothed them as well, making sure they were sturdy and long enough for their intended purpose. Satisfied with his materials, Athan called Lara, who was, as always, tending the fire, ensuring it remained fed with enough wood to burn steadily. She looked up as he approached, wiping the sweat from her brow before nodding in understanding as he explain needing help to carry those branches. Together, they lifted the forked branches, their hands gripping the smooth, stripped wood as they carefully carried them toward the fire pit. Upon reaching the designated spot, Athan knelt down and ran his fingers through the dirt, feeling its firmness beneath his touch. He then positioned one of the forked branches upright, pressing the base against the ground. "Here," he instructed, glancing at Lara to ensure she followed his reasoning. She mirrored his actions, holding the second Y-shaped branch on the opposite side of the pit before letting it rest on the ground. Working together, they pushed the bases of the branch into the earth , twisting slightly to anchor them deep. Athan reached for a nearby stone and used it to hammer around the edges, securing them further. Lara did the same, gritting her teeth as she exerted force to ensure stability. With each strike, the branches sank deeper into the soil, until they stood tall and unwavering. They did the same for the other Y-Shaped branch. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, Athan stepped back to examine their work. The foundation of their next project was taking shape. Athan then showed Lara how to prepare the fish, demonstrating each step with careful precision. He started by firmly holding the fish and using a sharp stone knife to slice off the head and tail. The blade scraped against the scales as he worked, the wet, silvery skin glistening under the sunlight. With a steady hand, he made a clean incision along the belly, parting the flesh to remove the entrails. The smell of fresh fish mixed with the earthy scent of the jungle as he set the discarded parts in a leaf for later use. Once the fish were cleaned and gutted, Athan retrieved a long, sturdy branch, carefully threading each fish between smaller sticks to create a simple drying rack. Using strips of vine as makeshift cordage, he tied them securely, ensuring they wouldn''t slip free. He tested the stability of his work, adjusting the knots where needed, making sure the fish were held firmly in place. Satisfied, he lifted the prepared rod and gently rested it atop the forked Y-shaped branches they had planted earlier. The fish now hung above the fire¡ªnot too close to the flames to prevent burning, but near enough to let the smoke envelop them. The rising tendrils of smoke curled around the fish, infusing them with its scent, a natural method of preservation that would help dry and flavor them over time. By nightfall, they would be ready to eat. With that task completed, Athan turned his attention to another essential step. He selected several smooth, rounded stones and placed them carefully into the fire, arranging them among the embers. The heat would gradually build within the stones, making them useful for cooking and keeping food warm later in the evening. Glancing over his shoulder, Athan noticed that his father had finished his own work for the moment. Without missing a beat, he gestured toward the heavy log Wade had cut earlier. "Help roll near fire?" he asked, his tone firm yet respectful. Wade nodded, stepping forward to grip the massive trunk. With a combined effort, father and son began pushing it closer to the fire, their hands bracing against the rough bark. As the log shifted, dust and small twigs scattered around them. Each roll brought it closer to its intended place, a piece of their growing settlement falling into position, one task at a time. His father sat on the ground, sweat glistening on his skin as he drank deeply from a water pouch. His breathing was heavy, but he listened intently as Athan explained the next step. The log needed one side flattened while the other would be hollowed out with the axe. To illustrate, Athan held up the wooden bowl he had crafted earlier, showing his father the concept of carving out the interior without damaging the structure. After taking a long pause to recover, Wade stood, rolling his shoulders before gripping the axe once more. He eyed the marked section of the log carefully, making sure to avoid cutting too deep into the sides. Athan had made it clear that preserving the outer edges was crucial to maintaining its strength. With careful, deliberate strokes, Wade began hacking away, each strike chipping away at the wood with a rhythmic sound that echoed through the camp. While his father worked, Athan turned to another task. He selected two long, straight branches, stripping the bark with precise strokes of his stone knife. Once the outer layers were removed, he began shaping both ends, carefully whittling them down until they were flatter and smoother. His hands worked methodically, ensuring the wood maintained its integrity without becoming too thin or brittle. Once satisfied with their shape, he took a length of strong cordage and bound the two branches together at one end, creating a simple but functional pair of wooden tongs. He tested them briefly, squeezing the ends to make sure they could hold objects securely. Pleased with his work, he carried the newly crafted tool back to the fire, where he would soon put it to use. Chapter 8 - Raising the First Barrier ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- His father had already flattened one side of the massive log and was now focused on hollowing out its interior. The process was slow and labor-intensive, each stroke of the axe carving away thick curls of wood. Athan watched closely as his father worked, sweat glistening on his forehead as he methodically chipped deeper into the trunk. This was no normal bowl¡ªAthan envisioned something much larger: a crude but functional cooking pot, a vessel capable of holding water and ingredients to make hearty soups. With this, they could finally make full use of the less desirable parts of hunted animals¡ªbones, scraps of meat, and even fish remains¡ªallowing them to extract every bit of nutrition rather than wasting valuable resources. The idea excited him, but he could see that the work was becoming increasingly difficult. The deeper the cut, the harder it was for his father to control the axe, and the strokes became less precise as the interior of the cavity became more confined. Recognizing this, Athan stepped forward, raising a hand. "Stop," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of chopping. Wade exhaled heavily, lowering the axe as he wiped sweat from his brow. Athan moved closer, running his fingers along the edges of the carved-out section, inspecting the depth and smoothness of the interior. It was coming together, but the walls needed refinement¡ªtoo thick in some areas, too uneven in others. Athan turned back to his father and nodded with a satisfied smile. "Good work. Now, refine. I use stone¡ªsmooth edges, make better. You rest." His father, still catching his breath, studied him for a moment, his gaze filled with both approval and exhaustion. With a slow nod, Wade stepped back, rolling his shoulders as he relinquished the task to his son. Since the wooden pot was resting on its side, Athan could continue working on it without external help. The boy then took his bowl and made his way to the river, where he crouched by the water''s edge. He scooped up a full bowl of clear water, watching as the ripples spread outward, before carefully making his way back to the unfinished cooking vessel. He set the bowl down beside it, his movements precise and deliberate. Next, he grabbed the new wooden tongs he had crafted and approached the fire, where the round stones had been heating for some time. The flames crackled as he carefully picked up one of the glowing-hot stones, gripping it firmly with both hands to keep control. Moving swiftly, he dropped the stone into the wooden cavity, making sure to dip the ends of his tongs into the water to cool them slightly and prevent them from burning too quickly. As soon as the hot stone made contact with the damp wood inside the cooking vessel, a loud hiss erupted, followed by a thick cloud of steam. The sharp, smoky vapor stung Athan''s eyes, making him blink rapidly, but he didn''t flinch. He repeated the process, placing several heated stones inside, watching as they began to scorch the interior of the wood, darkening it and burning away the rough fibers. Patiently, he waited for the stones to cool, observing how they gradually lost their glow as they transferred heat into the log. Once the stones had cooled enough, he used his tongs to remove them, placing them back into the fire before selecting fresh, hot replacements. Over and over, he repeated the process¡ªburning, scraping, and refining¡ªslowly hollowing out the log into a functional cooking pot. Each cycle brought the vessel closer to completion, the charred interior growing smoother with each pass as the heated stones burned away the last of the raw wood. The scent of burnt timber mingled with the damp, earthy aroma of the jungle floor, a sharp contrast that filled Athan''s nostrils as he worked. He made sure to rotate the stones carefully, ensuring that no section of the wooden cavity remained untreated. Every corner of the inside was blackened and strengthened, while even the exterior bore the marks of light scorching, sealing the surface and making it less prone to cracking. Occasionally, he paused to run his fingers over the smoothed interior, feeling the gradual shift from rough grain to hardened, heat-treated wood. It was a slow process, requiring patience and precision, but he knew it was necessary. With each step, the crude wooden pot took shape, another piece of their survival falling into place. Soon, it would hold water. Soon, it would help nourish the clan. Seeing that the wooden cooking pot was now the best it could be with his current skills, Athan inspected its underside carefully. He ran his fingers along the surface, thinking about how to improve its longevity. After a moment of reflection, he stood and began gathering flat stones, selecting ones that were sturdy and smooth. He arranged them in a circle on the ground near the fire pit, forming a makeshift foundation. He had realized that keeping the wooden pot directly on the earth would cause it to retain moisture and eventually rot. To prevent this, he decided to elevate it on a stone pedestal, which would help with airflow and slow down deterioration. Once the base was ready, he called Lara over once more to assist him. Together, they push and lifted the pot onto its new stand, their hands gripping its rough edges. The pot was significantly lighter now that it had been hollowed out, making the task easier. As they carefully set it down atop the stones, Athan stepped back to assess their work. Since the pot was now quite tall for him to reach easily, he placed two large stones beside it, creating a step that would allow him to access its interior more comfortably. Standing on one of the stones, he ran his fingers along the edges once more, ensuring that it sat securely on its new base. With this final adjustment, the pot was not only more durable but also more practical for everyday use. As the afternoon waned, Athan once again invited Lara to help with preparing the soup. She had been observing him throughout the day, occasionally turning the smoking fish to ensure they dried evenly. Now, it was time to put the wooden pot to use. Athan placed the heated stones back into the fire to prepare them for boiling. Then, he turned to Lara. "Water," he said simply, gesturing toward the river. Understanding, she nodded, and together they retrieved the water pouches usually used for transporting liquid. They made several trips back and forth, carefully pouring the collected water into the wooden pot until it was filled to the brim. With the pot now ready, Athan used his wooden tongs to retrieve the scorching-hot stones from the fire. He carefully dropped the first one into the water, causing an immediate sizzle and sending up a cloud of steam. The sudden heat created large splashes, droplets hissing as they hit the surrounding stones. The water began to tremble, tiny ripples forming as more hot stones were added. He and Lara repeated the process several times, replacing the cooled stones with fresh, heated ones until the water reached a steady, rolling boil. Satisfied, Athan gathered the fish heads and tails set aside earlier and tossed them into the bubbling water, watching as they began to cook. He then retrieved the crayfish from their pouch, swiftly removing their shells before cutting the meat into smaller pieces. One by one, he placed them into the pot, stirring gently as the rich aroma of fresh seafood began to fill the air. The broth was coming to life, and for the first time, their crude settlement would have a meal that was more than just roasted meat or raw foraged plants. This was something new, something warm, something that would nourish them all. Athan asked Lara to continue managing the cooking process, carefully removing the cooled stones from the pot and replacing them with freshly heated ones to maintain the boiling temperature. With the water steadily evaporating, he knew they needed to enrich the broth further. He made his way toward the foragers and hunters who had returned from the forest, asking for any edible roots they had gathered. Along the way, he also picked up a handful of aromatic herbs he had collected on previous excursions, their fresh scent mingling with the smoky air around the fire. Returning to the pot, he crumbled the herbs between his fingers, letting the fine flakes fall into the bubbling broth, releasing their flavor. The earthy aroma immediately intensified, merging with the rich scent of fish and smoke. Next, he took his water bowl, filled it with fresh river water, and used it to rinse the gathered roots, scrubbing away any dirt before laying them out on a flat stone. With his sharp stone knife, he carefully sliced them into smaller pieces, ensuring they would cook evenly before adding them to the pot. As the stew simmered, the liquid level gradually decreased. To prevent losing too much of the precious broth, Athan made two more trips to the river, refilling his water pouch and pouring fresh water into the pot, balancing the evaporation caused by the hot stones. With each addition, the mixture thickened, turning into something far more nourishing than they had ever prepared before. This wasn''t just a meal¡ªit was a step toward sustainability, a way to feed their growing community with the resources the land provided. While Lara tended to the fire, ensuring the pot remained at the right temperature, Athan took a long piece of wood and began carving with careful precision. His hands worked methodically, whittling away the rough edges, shaping it into something useful. After some time, he held a long wooden spoon, its handle smooth and sturdy. To further refine it, he passed it briefly over the fire, letting the heat harden the surface and burn away any stray splinters that might end up in their food. As the evening stretched on and the stew continued to simmer, a rich, savory aroma drifted through the camp. The scent of smoked fish and earthy herbs intertwined, carried by the breeze, drawing the attention of those nearby. One by one, members of the clan cast curious glances toward the fire, where the large wooden pot released gentle curls of steam into the air. The anticipation was evident¡ªthe promise of something warm, something different from their usual meals of roasted meat and raw foraged plants. Once Athan was satisfied with the spoon, he cleaned his bowl thoroughly, ensuring no dirt or wood shavings remained. He then dipped it carefully into the bubbling broth, lifting it just enough to let the steam rise before bringing it to his lips. The first sip was smooth, rich with the taste of fish and infused with the depth of the herbs and roots they had gathered. He let the warmth settle in his chest, savoring the success of their efforts. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He exhaled with satisfaction and nodded. "It''s ready." Turning around, Athan saw that everyone had gathered, their eyes filled with anticipation. The long hours of labor had left them weary, their muscles aching from the constant toil of building, gathering, and preparing. But now, the rich scent of the simmering broth wrapped around them, promising awarmth, nourishment, and relief after a hard day''s work. The murmurs of the clan grew hushed as they edged closer to the fire, drawn by the rare sight of a meal that was more than simple roasted meat or gathered fruit. Jumping down from his makeshift pedestal, Athan moved toward his mother, his bare feet kicking up small puffs of dust as he approached. "Are the bowls ready?" he asked. She nodded, her expression one of quiet satisfaction, and pointed to a neatly arranged stack. Each bowl was crude but functional, carved with care, their surfaces smoothed from hours of careful shaping. Athan ran his fingers along the top one before giving her a small nod. "Give one to each person," he instructed, ensuring that every member of the group had their own vessel for the meal. His mother wasted no time, calling out names as she handed out the wooden bowls, her voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the gathering crowd. Meanwhile, Athan returned to the large wooden pot, now the focal point of curiosity among the clan. The sight of the steaming broth, thick with ingredients, stirred something deep in them¡ªhope, perhaps, or the realization that their way of life was evolving. With Lara''s help, they carefully lowered the smoked fish, which had been hanging over the fire all afternoon. Its deep, rich aroma intensified as it neared the bubbling liquid, tendrils of steam curling upward, thick with the scent of slow-cooked meat and herbs. Once the fish was within reach, Athan turned to Lara. "Fill the bowls," he directed. She used the long wooden spoon they had carved earlier, carefully scooping from the bottom where the chunks of meat and roots had settled, ensuring that each portion was substantial. The thick broth poured smoothly, the golden liquid glistening in the firelight as it filled the bowls one by one. One by one, the clan members stepped forward, their hands steady with anticipation. Athan took each fish portion in his hands, working swiftly to remove the bones. His fingers moved with practiced efficiency, setting aside the bones for another use he had in mind. He then handed each person their share, allowing them the choice to either mix it into their soup or eat it separately. The first tentative sips and bites were met with murmurs of approval, some clan members pausing as if savoring a long-forgotten luxury. Eyes widened at the rich, smoky flavor of the fish, the broth carrying the deep infusion of the herbs and roots Athan had carefully selected. The warmth spread through their bodies, soothing the fatigue of a long day''s labor. Some took slow, measured spoonsful, rolling the liquid over their tongues, while others hungrily devoured their portions, relishing the rare moment of abundance. The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering across their faces as the scent of smoked fish and simmering broth lingered in the air. Athan watched as the adult exchanged quiet nods, acknowledging the significance of the meal. Though no children were among them¡ªAthan being the only one of his kind in the group¡ªthere was still a rare moment of shared camaraderie. The weary hunters and gatherers sat close together, their bowls cradled in their hands, the steam curling into the cool night air. Everyone had received their share of fish, yet the large wooden pot remained filled even after the first serving. The rich, golden broth still bubbled gently, the scent of smoked fish and herbs lingering in the air. Hunger was not fully sated after the initial serving, and soon, one by one, the clan members returned, eager for another helping. Each time a bowl was dipped into the pot, steam rose into the cool evening air, curling and twisting like ghostly tendrils before vanishing into the night. The process continued, each person coming forward to refill their bowl, their bodies slowly unwinding from the exhaustion of the day''s labor. The warmth of the meal seeped into their bones, revitalizing their weary muscles. Laughter began to ripple through the group in quiet murmurs, soft chuckles born from the comfort of being well-fed. After four rounds of serving, the once-brimming pot was finally empty, scraped clean of every last drop of broth and every morsel of fish. Satisfied sighs and murmured thanks echoed around the fire, their bodies now full and content. The clan members leaned back slightly, stretching their legs as the last remnants of the meal settled warmly within them. It was a rare feeling¡ªthis deep sense of satisfaction, of knowing that for once, their bellies were not only full, but full of something nourishing and sustaining. The boy exhaled slowly, his heart swelling with pride as he watched the clan eat. Their postures softened, the ever-present tension fading from their shoulders. After the meal, he would show them how to clean their plates with a little water and how to care for the cooking pot. But for now, in this rare moment, there was no immediate urgency, no fear¡ªjust a quiet, shared sense of contentment under the night sky. ---------- The next morning, as everyone began preparing for their daily tasks, Athan made his way toward the hunters, who were once again setting out in search of small prey, herb and fruit. The jungle was dense, and game were often scarce, requiring patience and strategy to secure enough food for the group. Anticipating their need for bait, Athan had prepared something the night before. He carefully unwrapped a long, sturdy leaf in which he had stored the leftover fish entrails from their meal. The pungent scent had intensified overnight, making it an ideal lure. He handed the bundle to the hunters, his fingers slightly sticky from the oils of the fish. "Use this," he instructed, gesturing toward the thick undergrowth beyond the camp. "Bait. Draw animals or bird close." The hunters exchanged glances, nodding in approval. One of them, a man with sharp eyes and a lean build named Nuk, inspected the entrails, lifting them slightly and inhaling the strong aroma. "Good," he muttered. "Will help." With a final nod of thanks, the group of four secured their weapons¡ªcrude but effective spears and bolas¡ªbefore slipping into the shadows of the jungle, their movements silent and precise. Athan watched them disappear, his mind already shifting to the tasks ahead. The settlement was still in its early stages, and there was much to be done. First, he needed to assess their stock of trees¡ªhow many had been felled, how many were still needed, and if the wood was properly drying. Then, he had to inspect the progress of the clearing, ensuring that the designated area for the wall was being prepared properly. The brush and undergrowth had to be completely removed before they could begin construction. Once the land was fully cleared, they would need to start digging trenches to secure the logs, embedding them deep enough to provide a sturdy foundation. Each trunk would have to be placed upright, then fastened together using the rope the clan had been diligently producing. The rope supply, while growing steadily, was still insufficient for the entire project. They needed to continue producing them at a steady pace, ensuring they managed their stock wisely to avoid running out before the construction was complete. His thoughts swirled with logistics, each step essential in creating a true place of safety for the clan. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the worksite, ready to assess their progress and make the next move. Athan approached the clearing where the construction site for the wall had begun. The ground was uneven, with scattered piles of cut wood and debris from the brush clearing. Some logs were already set aside, stripped of bark, and drying in the sun, but there was still much to be done. He knelt down and ran his fingers through the dirt, testing its firmness. The trench needed to be deep enough to secure the logs properly, or else the wall would be too weak to withstand strong winds or external threats. Looking around, he spotted Lara and a few others who had been helping clear the brush. He gestured to them, calling them over. "Trench. We dig deep, strong. Hold logs," he said, pointing to the ground. "More rope needed too." Lara wiped sweat from her brow and nodded. "How deep?" Athan thought for a moment before spreading his hands apart. "Knee deep. Logs heavy¡ªmust stand strong. Rocks help too¡ªhold in place." She exchanged glances with the others before picking up a sharpened digging stick. "We start now." The group began their work, some using sticks while others pried at the earth with their hands or knife, loosening the soil. Athan grabbed one of the wooden tools they had fashioned¡ªa flat, sturdy piece of wood with a pointed end¡ªand began helping, feeling the earth crumble beneath his efforts. The sun beat down on them as they toiled, but the thought of having a secure home drove them forward. As they worked, Athan''s mind continued to churn with ideas. The wall was only the beginning. Once it was in place, they could focus on building proper shelters, ones that would withstand the rain and wind. They would need stronger tools, more efficient ways to carry heavy logs, and perhaps even a designated area for storing food. He paused to wipe his hands on his tunic, glancing up at the sky. The sun had climbed higher, marking the approach of midday. The hunters would soon return, hopefully with fresh meat, wild fruits, or tubers to replenish their supplies. The thought of a successful hunt brought him a sense of cautious optimism, but he knew better than to assume success. The jungle was unpredictable, and prey could be scarce. At least they had his fish trap to supplement their food, ensuring that even in times of poor hunting, they would not go entirely without nourishment. Inspecting what they had accomplished so far, Athan noted that a trench of approximately twenty meters had already been dug. The work was progressing steadily, and three men¡ªYun, Ok, and his father Wade¡ªwere actively installing the logs that had already been cut and stripped of their branches. Each log was carefully positioned upright in the trench, with large stones packed tightly around their bases to help keep them stable. Once the logs were in place, the men shoveled dirt back into the trench, pressing it firmly with their feet before using heavy stones to further compact the soil. The rhythmic sound of the stones striking the earth echoed through the clearing, a steady beat of progress. The ground needed to be firm, ensuring that the logs would not shift under pressure or collapse in the future. To reinforce the structure, ropes were used to bind the logs together. The fibers, woven from jungle vines and dried plant materials, were strong enough to do the job, ensuring the wall remained sturdy against external forces. Every seven logs installed, Athan gave new instructions. He directed the men to place a support log at a 45-degree angle, bracing it against the upright logs to provide additional reinforcement. "Support," he explained, demonstrating with his hands. "Lean¡ªhold logs strong, together." The men nodded in understanding, securing the support logs firmly into place. With each passing moment, the defensive wall was taking shape, transforming their camp from a temporary refuge into something more permanent¡ªa true home in the making. Chapter 9 - Growing Settlement ?? Support this story on Patreon! ?? Enjoying The Greatest city Developper and want to read chapters in advance? Join me on Patreon for exclusive content, early access to new chapters, and more! ?? [patreon.com/WLTBneet] Your support helps me keep this adventure going and improve the quality of each chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who¡¯s already supporting me! ?? -------------------------- Now that the men had begun constructing the wall to protect the clan and had grasped the fundamentals of its creation, Athan began by using some branch to indicate the path for the future wall, marking other trees to be cut and continuing to clear the ground. He ensured that no debris or roots would interfere with the structure''s stability. His hands worked swiftly, pulling out stubborn plants and leveling uneven patches of soil to make way for the trench. Every handful of loosened dirt was tossed aside, and every exposed root was carefully pulled free to ensure that nothing would disrupt the solid foundation they were striving to build. The air was thick with the scent of freshly turned earth, and the rhythmic sounds of labor surrounded him¡ªthe dull thud of wood against soil, the occasional grunt of effort, and the distant chatter of the other workers discussing where to set the next log. Athan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm before pausing to take in the scene around him. Pausing for a moment and glancing at the sun, Athan made his way toward his father, who was carrying a heavy log alongside Yun. Their muscles strained under the weight, their movements deliberate as they navigated the uneven terrain. Athan observed as they carefully lowered the trunk into the trench, adjusting its position to ensure it was secure and would not fall back. The massive log landed with a dull thud, sending small clouds of dust into the air, settling into place as part of the growing structure. As Yun and Ok began securing the log to the others with tightly woven ropes, Athan''s father, having noticed him lingering, stepped toward him, his sharp gaze scanning his son''s dirt-streaked face. Athan took the opportunity to ask, "Father, we go look at fish trap? If fish stay too long, they go bad." He pointed toward the river, where the trap had been set the day before. "We take them out now, still good to eat." His father studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. We go." Athan and his father made their way toward the river, moving through the dense foliage that lined its banks. The sound of running water grew louder with each step, mingling with the rustling of leaves and distant bird calls. The boy walked ahead, his bare feet carefully navigating the uneven ground, while Wade followed close behind, his wary gaze scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. As they approached the fish trap, Athan could already see the gentle ripples disturbing the water''s surface¡ªevidence that their trap had caught something. His excitement grew as he hurried forward, crouching beside the woven structure submerged in the shallows. He peered into the water, eyes widening as he spotted several fish wriggling inside, their scales glinting under the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. "Many fish," Athan said, glancing up at his father with a grin. "Good catch." Wade knelt beside him, inspecting the trap before giving a short nod. "Strong trap. You do good work." Wade reached into the water, gripping the trap firmly as he lifted it out of the shallows, water streaming down its sides. Fish flailed inside, their silver scales flashing in the light. Athan leaned in, his sharp eyes scanning the catch. He carefully moved a piece of bark aside, inspecting the fish closely. One by one, he picked out the smallest ones and gently released them back into the water. "Too small," he said, glancing up at his father. "Let them grow bigger. Later, more food." Wade watched his son for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Good thinking. Strong fish later." With careful hands, Athan and Wade worked together, removing the fish from the trap and placing them in a large pouch, wrapping it securely to carry back to the camp. Before leaving, Wade returned the trap to the water, ensuring it was properly positioned for the next catch. He reached into a small pouch and threw a bit of meat inside as bait for tomorrow. The boy couldn''t help but feel a swell of pride¡ªhis method had worked again, proving that they could rely on the trap to provide food. He glanced at his father, who gave a small nod of approval before hoisting the bundle over his shoulder. Together, they turned back toward the camp, their footsteps blending with the soothing sounds of the flowing river. ------- Upon arriving at the camp, everyone had come to a halt. The chief and his son, noticing the unusual inactivity, moved closer to investigate. They quickly discovered that Ok had injured his foot and was speaking with Athan''s mother. He had stepped on sharp stones, slicing the sole of his foot horizontally. Athan''s mother had already cleaned the wound and was now applying medicinal herbs, their healing properties meant to speed up recovery and prevent infection. Wade, seeing that the situation was under control, ordered everyone to return to their tasks. He placed the fish bag down carefully before stepping in to take Ok''s place in the construction of the wall, ensuring that progress on their defenses did not slow. Athan, however, remained by the injured man. Once the treatment was complete, his mother gave him a reassuring smile before returning to her work, joining Nat, the most skilled rope-maker in the clan. The two women sat together, their hands expertly weaving fibers as they exchanged occasional laughter and conversation. The boy''s gaze drifted to Ok''s injured foot, then down to his own. His soles were darkened and hardened from the constant walking without protection. A thought struck him¡ªone so simple yet vital. Shoes. They needed shoes. Determined, he stood and retrieved a length of rope and a piece of wood, his mind already forming a plan. Sitting beside Ok, who looked restless and eager to return to work, Athan began measuring his own feet, carefully shaping the wood with his knife. It was a new challenge, but if he succeeded, it could change the way they moved and worked, offering protection where none had existed before. As he worked, Athan suddenly remembered the fish still waiting in the bag. He glanced toward the fire before dragging the fish bag over to Lara, who, as always, was tending the fire and making rounds to collect dry wood from the forest. He asked her if she remembered how they had prepared the fish the previous day and if she could handle it on her own. Lara smiled reassuringly and nodded. "No problem. Me take care of fish," she said before setting to work. Relieved, Athan returned to his task, resuming work on his improvised footwear. By then, his actions had piqued Ok''s curiosity. The injured man watched him with interest before finally asking, "What you do?" Athan explained simply, "I make protection for feet. So no cuts. No pain." Ok, intrigued by the idea, asked if he could also make some for himself. Excited by the interest, Athan eagerly gathered extra materials for Ok and began explaining. "Wood must be little bigger than foot. Thick¡ªmaybe 3 fingers high." He handed Ok a roughly cut piece of wood as a guide. The two then settled in, side by side, each beginning to carve their own pair of crude wooden soles, shaping them with focus and determination. As they worked, Athan quickly finished shaping his first sole and moved on to the second. Since his feet were still small and light, he could work quickly, carving and smoothing the wood with ease. Once both soles were ready, he jumped to his feet, testing their size against the ground. Now, he needed a way to make holes in the wood. Remembering the fire bow drill he had made before, he realized that adapting it into a simple drill with a cutting stone at the tip wouldn''t be difficult. Gathering two sturdy branches, some strong rope from Nat, and a long triangular stone that already had a sharp edge, he carefully began assembling the new bow drill. After forty minutes of focused effort, he had a working prototype. Testing it, he chipped a small notch into the first sole, then began drilling three holes through the wood¡ªone for his big toe, one near his little toe, and one closer to the heel. Once the holes were complete, he turned the soles over and examined the surface that would touch the ground. Using his knife, he carved a rough pattern into the wood, increasing traction to improve grip against the earth. With both shoes finished, Athan threaded rope through the holes, tying secure knots on the underside, making sure they settled into the grooves he had carved so they wouldn''t constantly scrape against the ground. Finally, he fastened the makeshift shoes to his feet and stood up. Walking felt strange at first¡ªthe solid wooden soles had none of the flexibility of modern footwear, but they protected his feet from the rough ground. Testing his steps, he noticed how firm and stable they felt, far better than walking barefoot over rocks and thorns. Ok had watched the entire process with fascination. As Athan completed his first steps in the wooden shoes, Ok''s eyes sparkled with excitement. He now fully understood the value of what the boy had created, and a broad grin spread across his face as he worked on his own shoes, thinking, "If me have those, me no sit on ground long time when hurt." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. While Ok worked on his own pair of shoes, Athan made his way to his mother, eager to show her his new invention. He carried himself with a sense of pride, his wooden soles clunking softly against the dirt with each step. The sensation was still strange, but he was already adjusting to the new way of walking. Reaching his mother, he lifted his foot slightly and tapped the wooden sole with his hand. "Look, Mother. Feet safe now. No hurt from ground." His mother looked down at the crude wooden shoes, her brow furrowing with curiosity. She crouched slightly, reaching out to touch the carved surface, running her fingers over the rough patterns Athan had etched into the wood. "Good idea," she said slowly, nodding in approval. "Feet safe. No more hurt." Encouraged by her response, Athan shifted his weight, adjusting to the feel of the wooden soles beneath him. "I make for more people," he added, already thinking of how he could improve the design for others in the clan. "Better with more rope, maybe leather later." His mother smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Smart. You help clan." Before he could respond, Nat, who had been listening nearby, called out, "Me want too! Feet hurt much when walk long." Athan grinned, nodding eagerly. "I make. Need more wood. More rope." Excitement stirred within the small group as more clan members gathered, intrigued by Athan''s invention. Some inspected his shoes with interest, while others voiced their desire for their own pairs. It was the first time the entire clan had so eagerly wanted for themself something he had created, and it filled him with a new sense of purpose. Realizing that he would need help to make multiple pairs, Athan gestured toward Ok, who was still working on his own shoes. "Ok help? More fast together." Ok lifted his head, smiling at Athan. "Me do alone. No move, no work wall. Me help here," he said, determination in his voice. With his injured foot preventing him from standing and contributing elsewhere, he resolved to do his best to make shoes for everyone. With that, the small project turned into a larger one. Athan quickly outlined to the man, how to carve the wooden soles, where to drill the holes, and how to make good knot from the rope to fasten them securely. As the clan members gathered materials for Ok, the air buzzed with energy, a rare moment of unity sparked by the simple idea of protecting their feet. Now free from his shoe-making project, Athan returned to check on the progress of the wall. Nearly thirty logs were already standing, forming a sturdy barrier around the camp. His father, Wade, and Yun continued securing them, following the trench that had been dug using the guideposts Athan had placed the previous day. The trench, now stretching nearly fifteen meters more long then the wall, had been dug out by some of the women in the group, but they appeared to have encountered a problem. As Athan approached, he noticed that the digging had stopped at a large, already-fallen tree trunk, blocking further progress. Seeing the issue, he smiled and approached the group. Instead of cutting through it, he suggested they dig around the trunk to partially free it from the earth. Once the trunk was exposed, Athan gathered dry grass and small branches, arranging them around the base of the tree. Taking burning sticks from the central fire pit, he carefully set the trunk alight, watching as the flames licked at the dry wood and caught hold. He knew he had to be careful¡ªtoo much fire, and it could spread uncontrollably; too little, and it wouldn''t weaken the trunk enough to break it apart. Letting the others return to their own work, Athan remained close, crouching near the fire as he monitored its progress. He occasionally shifted the burning wood, ensuring the heat concentrated on the thickest parts of the trunk. Smoke curled into the air, carrying the scent of charred bark, and embers glowed as the fire ate away at the once-sturdy wood. The process was slow but steady, and after a while, cracks began to form along the trunk''s surface. Athan smiled to himself. Soon, it would be weak enough to remove entirely. The flames crackled as the wood blackened and crumbled over the course of an hour. Occasionally, Athan used a stick to break away sections that had weakened, allowing the fire to consume it more efficiently. The scent of smoldering wood filled the air, mingling with the distant aroma of roasting meat from the fire pit. Just as Athan ensured the fire was under control, the hunters returned from their expedition. They carried a rabbit large as a dog speared cleanly through its midsection, a handful of root vegetables, and some scattered berries. Their faces, though marked by exhaustion, held an air of satisfaction. The food would be a welcome addition to the clan''s supplies, reinforcing their growing settlement. With the trunk finally reduced to manageable chunks, Athan and the women cleared the path, allowing work on the trench to continue. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light over the camp as the day''s progress became evident. He finally got to his feet as the hunter dropped the food next to Lara, who was carefully tending the fire. She was smoking the fish, feeding the flames, and preparing a broth using the heads and tails of the catch. The organs had already been set aside for the hunters, who would use them as bait for the next day''s hunt. Athan set to work skinning the large rabbit, carefully peeling away its fur while ensuring that the hide remained mostly intact for future use. He removed the organs, placing those that couldn''t be eaten into a leaf pouch, knowing they would serve as bait for the fish trap the following day. Once the cavity was clean, he methodically stripped the meat from the bones, making sure not a single piece was wasted. Every shred of edible flesh was separated with precision before he laid the meat over sturdy branches to begin the smoking process. The bones, now stripped clean, were set aside. Some could be used as tools, while others would be crushed for marrow. The smoked rabbit meat would be saved for the next day''s soup, ensuring the clan had a nutritious meal even if hunting or the fish trap proved unsuccessful. This method of preserving food was should now become a routine¡ªeach day''s hunt provided sustenance not only for the moment but for the days to come, reducing the risk of hunger in case of misfortune. Medi, a woman from the digging effort, approached, observing the rabbit''s fur with an expert eye. Without hesitation, she announced that she would take care of the tanning process, explaining that her parents had taught her this method since childhood. With practiced movements, she retrieved the skin and immediately got to work, carefully scraping off any remaining flesh, washing it with water, and preparing it for smoking. To her, preserving and treating fur was a valuable skill, passed down from generation to generation, essential for the survival and comfort of the clan. Meanwhile, Lara had finished preparing the root vegetables, peeling and chopping them before adding them to the simmering broth. The fire crackled as the scent of slow-cooked fish filled the air. Berries, freshly gathered, would be shared as dessert, a small but welcomed treat after the long day''s work. The meal, though simple, was a testament to their growing ability to plan, conserve, and sustain themselves in this new home. As the soup continued to simmer over the fire, Athan made his way toward the area where the burned tree trunk had once stood. He crouched down, carefully selecting a few pieces of cooled charcoal, his mind already racing with a new idea as he was watching Medi. The darkened fragments crumbled slightly under his fingers, leaving smudges on his palms, but he held onto them tightly, knowing they might serve an unexpected purpose. With his newfound materials, he walked back toward the camp, stopping briefly to gather a few pieces of wood. Once satisfied, he settled near Ok, who had just finished crafting his own wooden shoes and had already started working on Nat''s pair. In the coming days, Ok intended to make shoes for the entire group, ensuring that no one would have to suffer injuries from walking barefoot over rough terrain. Athan, meanwhile, had a different plan. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he began carving, his small hands skillfully working the wood with smooth, precise strokes. This time, he wasn''t making shoes or tools for hunting¡ªhe was thinking beyond their immediate survival. He wanted to create something they could use every day, something that could make their lives easier. He decided to start by crafting a set of wooden bowls and cups, each with a slightly different shape and size, designed for multiple purposes. Some would be used for drinking water, while others would serve for carrying food. His fingers moved steadily, carving grooves along the edges and shaping the wood into functional forms. After a while, he had a cup and a smaller wooden bowl¡ªsmaller than the one his mother had made for everyone¡ªbut with taller, thinner sides. But as he set those aside, he took another piece of wood for the most ambitious part of his plan¡ªa small flask, not for water, but for ink. An idea was forming in his mind, one that would allow him to record thoughts, plans, or even draw simple images. This project would take more time and effort than the others, but once completed, it would be invaluable. Unlike the bowls and cups, which could be left at the camp, this flask would allow him to store ink safely, preserving it for when he needed to mark wood, stone, or even fabric with important symbols or records. The boy smiled; they would skip carving records into walls and go straight to ink and paper. Of course, he couldn''t use oil to set the pigment, but he could start with water. The color would be gray instead of black, but it was still a step forward. He also realized he would need to create a proper writing surface. For now, he would use tree bark to redraw the layout of the village and the surrounding territory since the plan he had made on the ground near the fireplace had been damaged by foot traffic and the wind. As he worked, small wood shavings piled around him, the soft scraping of his knife against the wood blending with the crackling of the fire. Occasionally, he glanced up at Ok, who was now fully engrossed in his own task. The two worked in quiet concentration, each shaping the future of the clan in their own way¡ªOk by protecting their feet, and Athan by improving their daily lives. As the evening settled in, the members of the clan gradually gathered around the fire, their wooden bowls placed beside them as they took a moment to rest. The air was filled with laughter and the soft murmur of conversations, a well-earned reprieve after a long day''s work. The warm glow of the flames flickered across their faces, casting dancing shadows on the ground as they spoke and enjoyed each other''s company. A short while later, Lara began distributing the evening meal, carefully ladling portions of hot soup and pieces of fish into each bowl as the clan members formed a loose line. The scent of the broth, rich with root vegetables and smoked fish, filled the air, adding to the comforting atmosphere. One by one, they received their meal and found a spot to sit, some cross-legged on the ground, others leaning against logs or stones. As they ate, the conversation flowed naturally. Ok, now seated with the other men, animatedly described the process of making his wooden shoes. The hunters, who had been away when he first injured his foot, leaned in with curiosity, asking questions and inspecting the craftsmanship of the footwear. Their interest was clear, and some murmured about how useful such protection would be for their own long treks through the forest. Meanwhile, Athan''s mother sat beside his father, speaking quietly but smiling as they exchanged thoughts about the day''s progress. Across from them, Lara and the other women chatted as they ate, occasionally laughing at a shared joke or story. Athan watched it all, his hands resting around his bowl as he slowly ate his portion. The warmth of the fire, the hum of conversation, the easy laughter of his people¡ªit filled him with a deep, quiet joy. Despite the struggles they had faced to get to this moment, despite the hardships of the journey and the uncertainty of the future, he was happy to be here, to be part of this growing community, to have a role in shaping their home. This moment, simple yet profound, made all the difficulties they had endured feel worth it. Chapter 10 - Tools, Plans, and Growth Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On Patreon, we''re already at Chapter 18, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ----------------------- As the boy wakes up, blinking away sleep, he took in the movement around the camp, the early morning sun casting long shadows over the settlement. Nearby, a group of women gathers around Nat, their hands skillfully twisting fibers into strong rope, their quiet conversation blending with the rustling of leaves. Their movements are practiced and steady, a necessary craft that ensures the clan has enough cord for tools, traps, and construction. A few meters away, the four hunters are preparing for their departure. They carefully inspect their spears and supplies, securing their pouches before setting out for the day''s hunt. They exchange brief words, their eyes scanning the surrounding forest, already focused on the task ahead. Lara, ever diligent, tends to the fire, her hands efficiently scrubbing the large pot used for last night''s meal. The scent of smoke lingers in the crisp air as she ensures that everything is ready for the next round of cooking. Ok is seated near his work area, continuing the process of crafting shoes. Using sticks he had measured against the hunters'' feet before their departure, he carefully carves and adjusts the pieces, making sure they will be properly fitted when they return. His focus is unwavering, determined to finish as soon as possible. Further away, Wade and Yun work together, bringing down mature trees marked during the first day at camp by Athan. Each swing of their makeshift axes sends deep echoes through the air, and the heavy thuds of falling trunks signal progress as they prepare more logs for the construction of the walls. Meanwhile, another group of women continues their slow but steady work of clearing the land and digging the trench that will serve as the foundation for the future defensive wall. Their hands are covered in dirt, but their efforts remain diligent, ensuring that every step of their settlement''s growth is carefully planned and executed. Athan watches all of this, feeling a deep sense of pride in the coordination of the clan. Everyone has a role, every movement contributing to the strengthening of their new home. The boy got up and sat next to Ok, eager to complete his ink flask before the day''s work pulled him away. He ran his fingers over the wooden block, feeling the rough edges that still needed refining. Having already hollowed out a good portion of the interior, he grabbed the bow drill and began working again, pressing down steadily as he spun the drill between his hands. The tool whined softly as it dug deeper, the friction heating the wood slightly. He carefully measured the depth with his fingertip, ensuring he didn''t pierce all the way through. Once satisfied with the hollowed chamber, Athan set aside the drill and picked up his knife. With careful, deliberate strokes, he shaved away excess wood, rounding the edges to create a smooth, cylindrical shape. Small curls of wood fell to his lap as he refined the form, making it fit comfortably in his palm. He paused occasionally, rubbing his thumb along the surface to check for uneven areas before continuing his work. For the cap, he selected a smaller piece of wood and began carving, shaping it to fit snugly inside the flask''s opening. He adjusted it little by little, testing the fit until it sealed properly. To ensure a secure closure, he scraped fine grooves around the cap''s edge, allowing it to grip the inner walls more firmly when pressed into place. Satisfied, he wiped his hands on his tunic and held up the finished piece, turning it in the light. The ink flask was nearly complete¡ªhe only needed to seal it and to test its function to store ink, a task he would do after a couple more steps. Placing the newly crafted ink flask on the ground, Athan wasted no time in beginning his next project¡ªthe creation of a wooden mortar and pestle. He selected a solid piece of wood, running his fingers over its surface to ensure it was free of cracks before setting to work. He began by shaping the mortar, carving out a small but deep bowl with thicker walls than usual to maintain its integrity when grinding substances inside. Using his knife, he worked methodically, scoring the surface in a circular motion before carefully chipping away at the center. He alternated between deep, slow strokes and smaller precise cuts, ensuring the walls remained even as he hollowed out the interior. Each pass of his blade brought the bowl closer to its final shape, the shavings accumulating in a fine pile beside him. Once the mortar had taken form, he shifted his focus to the pestle. Choosing a sturdy branch, he whittled it down, shaping one end into a smooth, rounded surface suitable for crushing ingredients. He took extra care to balance the weight and grip, ensuring that it would be easy to hold and maneuver. As he worked, he occasionally tested the fit, placing the pestle inside the mortar to check for smooth motion and efficiency. After a long session of carving and refining, he ran his fingers over both pieces, feeling for any rough spots that needed further smoothing. Satisfied with his progress, he held up the finished set in the morning light, knowing that this simple tool would serve many purposes¡ªgrinding herbs, making pastes, and its first task would be to grind charcoal for his ink. Before proceeding further, he stood up, carrying his newly crafted tools over to the fire. Selecting a burning branch, he carefully waved it in the air, ensuring the flame remained steady before pressing the glowing embers against the interior of the mortar. The heat singed the wood, darkening its surface and sealing the tiny pores to prevent moisture from seeping in. He repeated the process, moving the ember in slow, circular motions across the surface, the faint scent of scorched wood rising around him. After a moment, he pulled the branch away, examined his work, and then returned the branch to the fire to reignite it. Once it was glowing again, he repeated the process, ensuring the inside of the mortar, pestle, and ink flask were all properly sealed. Each time the fire dimmed, he returned the branch to the flames, allowing it to regain its heat before continuing. His hands worked patiently, carefully rotating each piece so that no section remained untreated. By the time he finished, the inner surfaces of the tools had developed a smooth, dark sheen, a protective barrier that would prevent them from absorbing liquid or staining too easily. Satisfied with his work, Athan set the tools aside to cool. In the meantime, he made his way to the river to collect water, then gathered a few pieces of charcoal he had set aside the day before. Returning to his work area, he placed a piece of charcoal inside the mortar, gripping the pestle firmly before beginning to grind it down. He applied steady pressure, rolling and pressing the pestle in circular motions, ensuring the charcoal broke down into fine particles. His hands worked methodically, crushing the larger chunks until the powder was smooth and uniform, without any oversized fragments that could affect the consistency of the ink. Once he was satisfied with the texture, he carefully added a small amount of water, watching as the liquid darkened upon contact with the charcoal dust. Slowly, he mixed the two substances, using the pestle to blend them into a rich, black liquid. He took his time, stirring carefully to avoid over-diluting the mixture. The ink had to be thick enough to coat a surface but fluid enough to be applied smoothly. Athan adjusted the ratio of water and charcoal, continuing to grind and stir until the mixture reached a deep, almost glossy black with the perfect consistency. Once he was satisfied with the result, he picked up the ink flask and carefully poured the liquid inside, ensuring that not a single drop was wasted. The thick black substance coated the inner walls as it settled at the bottom. He then took the wooden stopper he had crafted earlier and sealed the flask tightly, rolling it gently in his hands to test its airtightness. Turning it in different directions, he checked for leaks, watching for any sign of seepage. When none appeared, a small smile of satisfaction crossed his face. The ink was complete, sealed, and ready for use. Setting those aside, he returned to Ok''s side, ready to begin another quick project¡ªa pen. Selecting a branch of the right thickness from a pile nearby. He stripped the bark away, revealing the pale wood underneath, he ran his fingers along its length, feeling for imperfections. Once satisfied, using his knife, he carefully split one end of the branch slightly, just enough to create a small groove which would close by pressure if he got his knife out. Reaching into his pouch, he retrieved a thin fishbone he had collected earlier, sliding it into the groove he had created before taking his knife out. The natural flexibility of the wood allowed it to close slightly around the bone, holding it in place. He pressed the tip gently against his palm, ensuring it was firm but not too stiff. The fishbone''s shape would allow it to hold a small amount of ink, just enough to write or draw with precision. With his pen now complete, Athan moved on to his next step. He walked to one of the fallen trees that had been cut down earlier and carefully sliced off a long, thin section of bark. He flipped it over, inspecting the inner layer. The rough, rigid bark on the surface needed to be scraped away, leaving behind the fibrous, but he wanted the tender inner layer, which would serve as a more flexible and suitable writing surface. He worked methodically, using his knife to clean the rigid surface off the bark, ensuring it was as flat as possible. Once done, he was left with a large piece of inner bark that, while not perfect, would serve as a makeshift canvas for his plans. Grabbing his ink flask too, he found a smooth, flat rock a little away from the main work area. Sitting down, he placed the bark before him, opened the flask, and dipped the tip of his newly crafted pen into the dark liquid. He then began redrawing the layout of their settlement. First, he marked the waterfall, its position fixed against the mountain wall that sealed off the northern part of their camp. He then carefully traced the winding path of the river as it flowed alongside their settlement, recalling the bends and turns it took before disappearing from sight. Next, he focused on their camp itself¡ªthe fire pit at its center, the ring of future shelters, and finally, the defensive wall they had started constructing. His strokes were slow and precise, making sure to place every important detail exactly where it should be. He also marked the areas where the walls would extend in the future, mapping out how they would reinforce their settlement''s defenses. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. As he worked, Athan found himself lost in concentration, his hands steady, his mind focused on every detail he could remember. This was more than just a drawing¡ªit was a vision of what their home would become. Observing his drawing and the empty spaces that remained, Athan stood up and leaving the map behind, walked toward a section of the camp that would soon be incorporated into the outer wall. Here, he planned to construct a designated area for the latrines. His idea was to divert a small section of the river''s flow to wash away waste, ensuring that it would be carried far down the jungle, away from the settlement. For now, the clan relieved themselves wherever they chose, which Athan found inefficient and unsanitary. He had already insisted that everyone at least dig a hole and cover it after use, but with the clan''s long-term future in mind and the likelihood of their population growing, a proper solution was necessary. Leaving waste unchecked would not only be unpleasant but also increase the risk of disease. Next, Athan moved to the part of the camp where they would soon construct huts. These would start as simple, quickly built shelters, given their need for speed, but over time, they would become sturdier and more comfortable. He envisioned a time when the clan would have proper homes, structures that would provide better protection from the elements, for now they would need 8 nuts, one for every familly. By the waterfall, Athan imagined something else¡ªa public bath. The natural basin at the base of the falls could serve as a place where the clan could wash away the dirt and sweat of the day. This would not only improve hygiene but also provide a communal space where they could relax after their daily labor. Finally, he made his way to where the men were cutting down trees. Looking at a piece of earth he had taking from the ground, which look promising for culture, moving his head up calculating the angle of the sun and the proximity to the river, he identified the perfect spot for their first field. This was where agriculture would begin for the clan. He didn''t know if any other groups elsewhere on the planet had already started farming, but perhaps they would be among the first to develop this skill. If they succeeded, it would change everything, securing their food supply and reducing the need for constant hunting and foraging. With these plans in mind, Athan felt a growing sense of purpose. The future of their settlement was taking shape, and he was determined to see it through. With those thoughts in mind, he returned to the large rock where he had left his belongings and continued working on the maps, carefully adding every detail he had just envisioned. He traced the new developments with slow, deliberate strokes, ensuring that nothing was forgotten, from the placement of the latrines to the future creation of their fields. Every line he drew was a step toward turning his vision into reality. ----------- As Wade worked, his muscles flexing with each controlled swing of his axe, he kept a watchful eye on his son. He didn''t fully understand what Athan was doing¡ªonly that the boy was always working on something, always shaping wood with careful intent. Wade had long since accepted that Athan was different from the others. He didn''t just follow orders or complete tasks for the sake of survival; he had his own plans, his own way of thinking. From the corner of his eye, Wade saw Athan crouched beside Ok, carving with deliberate precision. He couldn''t tell what the boy was making, but he knew Athan must have a reason. Wade watched as his son moved on to the fire, holding up a small wooden object before carefully exposing it to the heat. Was he hardening it like the spear? Testing something or just playing around for once? The boy worked in silence, methodically tending to his task before setting it aside and starting another. He continued chopping wood, the weight of his axe heavy in his grip, but his attention kept flickering back to Athan. Now the boy was grinding something¡ªcharcoal, from the look of it. Wade frowned slightly, puzzled but trusting. Whatever Athan was doing, he wasn''t wasting time, not like a normal child. Wade knew his son too well to think otherwise. Still, he remained alert, ensuring the boy wasn''t in any danger, ready to step in if needed. As Athan moved to the fallen trees, collecting bark with the same focused determination, Wade sighed quietly. He didn''t know what his son was building, but he didn''t need to. He only needed to make sure the boy was safe while he did it. With a grunt, Wade shifted his grip and brought his axe down once more, falling another tree with ease. Whatever Athan was crafting, Wade would give him the space to do it¡ªwhile he provided the strength to keep their home standing. The day before, he and his woman, Raey, had spoken about their child. Both were worried that Athan was not enjoying his childhood the way other children should. He always seemed anxious¡ªconcerned about food shortages, injuries, the lack of resources, and every other problem that might arise. It was as if he could sense trouble before it even happened, always coming up with solutions, always thinking ahead. But Wade had never seen him play like a normal child. He was always busy, always working, never indulging in simple, carefree moments. Yet now, watching Athan carve small wooden figures, Wade felt relief wash over him. Finally, his son was taking a moment to enjoy himself, to create something for pleasure rather than survival. Athan, having finished collecting bark, spread it over a large flat stone. His expression was one of deep concentration as he began working on something new. Wade watched for a moment longer, but seeing no reason for concern, he turned back to his own work, continuing to fell the trees that were marked some day before. Suddenly, Wade saw the boy stand up and quickly walk toward a secluded part of the camp, his expression lost in thought. The boy seemed to move with purpose, but Wade had no idea what was on his mind. A few minutes later, Athan left that spot and headed toward the waterfall. He stood there for a moment, observing the cascading water, before making his way toward the area where Wade and the others were cutting trees or digging the earth. As the boy approached, he knelt down, scooping up a handful of soil, his lips moving in a low murmur as he looked up at the sky. Wade, confused by the strange behavior, stopped swinging his axe, his attention now fully on his son. Athan didn''t seem to notice, completely absorbed in whatever thought occupied him. Then, just as suddenly as he had come, the boy sprinted toward the large rock where he had been working earlier and resumed his task without hesitation. Wade stood motionless for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed. He had no idea what had just happened or what his son was thinking, but he kept watching him, studying his movements. A few moments later, with no apparent answers, Wade simply shook his head and returned to his work, gripping his axe once more and continuing to cut the logs. ---------- Sometime later, Athan sealed his ink flask and set down his makeshift pen. The plan for the future village was finally complete. He carefully placed stones at each of the four corners of the bark sheet, securing it so it could dry under the sun without being disturbed. A sense of accomplishment filled him¡ªhis vision was now mapped out. But his work was far from over. As the adults continued chopping trees and digging the trench for the wall, Athan turned his focus to another crucial task¡ªthe field. Returning to the area he had inspected earlier, he took in the progress that had been made. In just three days, his father, Ok, and Yun had cleared 60% of the trees they had marked for removal. The largest logs had been set aside for drying, as they would later be used to build huts. Medium-sized trunks had already been repurposed for the construction of the defensive wall. The smallest ones had been chopped into firewood or carved into useful objects. The dead dry one were for the fire, while wet one were set up to dry before being burned. However, the clearing process had left behind a landscape littered with partially uprooted trunks, tangled roots, and scattered debris. If this land was to become their first field, it needed to be properly prepared¡ªevery stump removed, every obstacle cleared, and the soil made ready for planting. With determination, Athan took his stone knife and began working on the tree trunks, cleaning them one by one. He started by removing embedded stones, tossing them into a pile that could later be used for construction or other tasks. Next, he brushed away the layers of dirt clinging to the exposed roots and buried bases of the fallen trees, making them easier to process. His hands worked methodically, his grip steady as he pried loose stubborn pieces of soil, revealing the smooth wood beneath. Once a trunk was fully cleared but still couldn''t be uprooted, he gathered small twigs, dry wood chips, and handfuls of dried grass, placing them beneath and around the exposed roots. With careful precision, he took an ember from the fire pit to ignite the prepared area, watching as controlled flames licked at the base of the trunk. The dry materials caught fire quickly, and he stepped back, ensuring the flames consumed only what was necessary. With the fire smoldering steadily, he moved on to the next trunk, repeating the process. There wasn''t much around that could burn on its own, so this was the most efficient way to clear the stumps and prepare the land. One by one, he worked through the area, systematically removing obstacles to transform this section of the settlement into their first cultivated field. His muscles ached, his fingers grew sore from gripping the knife and handling the rough wood, but he pressed on. The land needed to be ready¡ªthis was the foundation of something bigger. A future where the clan wouldn''t have to rely entirely on hunting and gathering, a future where they could grow their own food. As he continued working, Athan reflected on the challenges ahead. During their wandering, they had collected a vast assortment of seeds¡ªdiverse and varied. The biggest problem now was that he no longer remembered which seed came from which fruit, meaning he would have to test them all. Moreover, the fruits the clan consumed were unlike those he had known in his past life. Most of them had almost no flesh, their interiors dominated almost entirely by seeds. He recalled something from his previous life¡ªhow the earliest varieties of fruits and vegetables looked nothing like their modern counterparts. Over millennia, humans had selectively planted and cultivated those that provided the most nutrients, naturally shaping the evolution of crops. Athan understood that he would have to start from scratch, developing agriculture from its very infancy. There would be no guidance, no records to follow¡ªonly trial, observation, and patience. The thought was both daunting and exciting. This was more than just planting seeds; it was the foundation of something that could change the path of humanity forever. Retrieving his pouch of seeds, he studied the ones he had gathered, running his fingers through the mix of shapes, sizes, and textures. Some were smooth and round, others rough and jagged. He knew he would have to plant them separately, carefully observe which ones sprouted, and learn through trial and error. The process would be slow and painstaking, but he had no other choice if he wanted to ensure their survival. With renewed determination, Athan picked up a wooden stick and began digging small holes in a cleared patch of soil, carefully dropping a few seeds into each one, all of them from the same variety. He covered them with a lot of dirt making a little mound, pressing lightly to ensure they were secure. Then, standing up, he wiped his hands on his leather garment and took a deep breath before carefully pouring water from his waterskin over the freshly planted seeds. Next, he would carve a wooden marker, carefully etching the shape of the seeds onto its surface. Since he didn''t know the names of the fruits they came from, this would help him keep track of their growth and eventual identification. He knew this was only the beginning of a long and uncertain journey toward cultivating food for the clan, one that would require patience, observation, and adaptation. Chapter 11 - Blueprints of Tomorrow Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On Patreon, we''re already at Chapter 19, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? -------------------------- Athan wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers stained with dirt as he looked over the small patch of land he had just planted. The seeds were nestled into the earth, a promise for the future, but his work was far from over. He knew he would need to monitor them, to find ways to ensure they received enough water and protection from animals. Yet, as he stood and dusted off his hands, a sense of accomplishment filled his chest. This was the beginning of something new. As he turned to leave, his father, Wade, stood a few steps away, watching him. The man''s strong frame was relaxed, but his sharp eyes were observant. Athan had noticed his father keeping a closer watch on him lately, not out of concern, but what seem to be curiosity. Wade didn''t understand what Athan was doing most of the time, yet he never interfered. He simply observed, as if trying to piece together his son''s vision. Wade nodded toward the ground. "That?" he asked, his words simple, as always. Athan pointed at the soil. "Food. Later," he explained, choosing the simplest words he could manage. Wade grunted, stepping closer. He crouched down, running his fingers through the loose dirt. He had seen plants before, of course, but never ones intentionally placed in the ground. "Grow? Here?" Athan nodded. "Yes. Water, sun. Then food." Wade frowned slightly, as if weighing the idea in his mind. "Not hunt?" Athan hesitated before answering. "Still hunt. But this... safer. More food. Always food." His father exhaled through his nose, glancing at the sky before standing up. "Good... if works." Athan smiled faintly. "Work. Just time." Wade placed a large hand on his son''s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze before turning away, heading back toward the others who were still chopping trees, securing logs for the settlement and digging the trench. Athan watched him go, feeling a quiet satisfaction. His father didn''t fully understand yet, but he didn''t reject the idea either. That was enough for now. Stretching his arms, Athan turned his attention back to the field. The work never stopped, and there was still much to be done. He decided his next task would be to create a system for watering the plants. If this was truly going to work, they needed a reliable way to keep the soil damp. Grabbing a nearby branch, he started sketching a few ideas in the dirt. His first thoughts drifted to the river, thinking about the natural way the water flowed and where it began. The boy was then trying to figure out a way to divert that same water directly from the waterfall to the field. A good and quasi permanent solution would be to use cement and rock, as it would create a lasting structure, but they did not have the means to produce cement yet. Another viable method was to carve the middle of several tree trunks into a large U-shape, allowing gravity to naturally transport the water from the waterfall to the field. This would take some time and effort but was feasible with only a knife and patience. The fastest and easiest way, however, would be to dig a trench in the earth, creating a temporary channel for the water to flow. Yet, he knew that over time, the water would continue eroding the soil, deepening and widening the passage unpredictably. Given the current limitations, the most viable short-term solution was to use the hollowed-out trees. Determined to begin his work as soon as possible, Athan continued burning the stumps that littered the field. At the same time, he called out to his father and Yun, asking them to fell a few smaller trees near his location. Once he had the logs, he would begin carving them into U-shaped channels, ensuring that the water could be directed efficiently to the planted crops. Before continuing with anything else, he used his stone knife to carve a wooden marker, carefully etching the shape of the seed onto it, since he did not yet know their names. Afterward, using a couple sturdy branches, he constructed a small protective enclosure around the first field, ensuring they would not be trampled or disturbed. Once the enclosure was in place, he firmly secured the wooden marker into the ground. Satisfied with his first attempt, he stepped back and examined his work. It was crude, but it was a beginning. Taking his waterskin, he carefully poured some water over the newly planted field, ensuring the soil was properly moistened. With a nod of approval to himself, he resumed burning the remaining stumps, steadily clearing more of the land. Little by little, he was making progress, ensuring the field would soon be ready for cultivation. In each newly cleared patch of soil, Athan carefully planted a different type of seed. He surrounded each square of land with a small wooden fence, marking the boundaries to ensure they remained undisturbed. He also placed a wooden marker at each section, carving into it the shape of the seed planted there. While the logs burned, Athan turned his attention to carving the long trunks of the trees his father and Yun had set aside near the cultivated area. The different tasks he set for himself were so absorbing that he lost all track of time, fully immersed in the rhythm of his work. By the time he noticed, the sun was already beginning to descend, casting golden light over the clearing. Realizing that dusk would soon be upon them, Athan set down his tools and made his way to the waterfall basin. He plunged his hands into the cool water, the sensation refreshing after the long hours of labor. The cold stream washed away the dirt and soot, revitalizing him. Then, as he dried his hands, a thought struck him¡ªhis plan. He had left it out in the sun to dry, placed atop the large stone a little distance from the camp. Without hesitation, he turned and made his way toward it, hoping it was still intact. As he went to retrieve it, he froze in front of the stone¡ªhis materials were no longer where he had left them. Turning toward the fire, his eyes first landed on Lara, stirring the evening soup. They must have gone to collect fish from the river trap, as several were now smoking over the fire. Tonight''s meal had originally been intended to feature rabbit, smoked the previous night, along with root vegetables brought back by the hunting team. Additionally, they had managed to capture two plump birds, now roasting at a safe distance from the flames. But Athan soon noticed something else. Several members of the clan had gathered around something near the fire. Turning his head, he realized that the items he had crafted that morning were now prominently displayed near his bedding, likely gathered by his mother. A wave of relief washed over him¡ªat least they had not been lost. Shifting his focus to the crowd, he edged closer, curiosity piqued by what had drawn their attention. As he neared, he saw his father and several other clan members crouched around the village map he had drawn, carefully inspecting the markings that detailed future constructions. Some pointed at specific areas, murmuring to each other in low voices, while others studied the layout with furrowed brows. "Here, wall strong?" one of the hunter asked, tapping a section where the palisade was planned. Wade nodded, running a calloused finger along the sketched perimeter. "Wood thick. But need rock too. More strong." Another voice, Yun''s, added, "We place rock at bottom? Stop wind, stop break." Athan, now standing just within earshot, swallowed his excitement. They were considering his ideas seriously. He took another step closer and cleared his throat slightly, drawing their attention. His father turned his head toward him and gestured for him to step forward. "You make this?" Wade asked, pointing to a specific marking on the map where the field was planned. Athan nodded. "Yes. Fields. Here¡ªgood dirt. Water close." One of the hunters grunted, eyeing the plan. "Hunt still good? If stay, not scare food away?" Athan hesitated, then pointed toward the nearby forested area. "Hunt there for now. Not need go far. And..." He tapped the field marker. "Food here too. Not just hunt." There was a moment of silence as the men considered his words. Lara, who had been listening from the side, finally spoke. "More food is good. Less hunger if hunt not good." A few of the men exchanged looks before Yun finally nodded in approval. "We try." Athan exhaled, feeling his shoulders relax slightly. This was a step forward. Wade pointed at the logs that had been carved into a U-shape. "That?" he asked, his gaze shifting toward Athan. Athan nodded and pointed at a section on the plan. "Here. This brings water from the waterfall, so the field gets water too. Seeds grow into plants, and we eat the fruit." Wade nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the drawing. After a moment, he pointed to the rectangular shape a little distance from the fire. "What that?" The boy grinned and replied, "That house. No rain on head, no wind to make us cold. Warm. Good place for babies." Seeing that the men didn''t fully understand his explanation but remained intrigued, Athan hurried off and gathered a bundle of small branches, pieces of bark, and leaves. Using a large piece of bark, he crafted a simple floor. Then, he planted the small branches upright into the ground to represent walls and draped leaves over them to form a roof. Leaving one side open to symbolize a doorway, he stepped back, letting the men take in the small-scale model. To demonstrate further, Athan took his waterskin and let a few drops of water fall onto the leaf-covered roof, showing how the water slid off without soaking the inside. The men stared, mouths slightly agape at the boy''s demonstration. One of the hunters finally broke the silence, shaking his head. "House too small..." Athan, slightly exasperated, pointed toward the large logs set aside to dry. "We use this for house. Make big house. Each family have house, so clan have lot babies. With field, we make lot food. With river trap, lot fish. We eat, we build, we live good. Clan bigger, clan stronger" The gathered men exchanged glances, considering his words. The realization slowly dawned on them¡ªAthan wasn''t just talking about a single shelter. He was envisioning a future where the clan no longer had to wander, where they could stay, grow, and thrive. Some men still had doubts. "That lot of change... me afraid we fail," one muttered, his voice filled with hesitation. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Wade lifted his head and spoke with calm certainty. "This plan good. And if fail, we still go other place, like before." Just like that, Wade''s words made them realize it was worth a try. Even if they failed, they could always return to their old ways. After that, Athan explained his ideas for communal baths and a shared toilet area. The men were less interested in these concepts, but they still showed willingness to explore the boy''s suggestions. At that moment, Lara called out to the tribe, announcing that it was time to eat. The others slowly dispersed, leaving the natural circle that had formed around Athan and his plan to retrieve their bowls for the meal. Wade placed a firm hand on his son''s shoulder as the boy carefully rolled up the village plan, treating it with the same care as one would a sacred object. Athan looked up, sensing the weight of his father''s gaze. Wade''s eyes swept over the tribe, observing each member before returning to meet his son''s questioning expression. "This our clan. This our family. When you grow up, you be the one to guide. You protect. You make strong. That your duty." His father''s voice was firm, his words measured. Each point was emphasized with unwavering seriousness, his eyes locked onto Athan''s, ensuring that the boy understood the responsibility that would one day rest upon his shoulders. Athan had not expected such a speech, and he felt his heart tighten. He was going to turn six in the coming months, and hearing that he would one day bear the responsibility for the entire clan and their future was a heavy burden for a child. Even with the memories of his past life, the weight of such an expectation felt overwhelming. Seeing his son grow nervous, Wade''s gaze softened. A rare smile crossed his face as he placed a reassuring hand on Athan''s shoulder. "Continue what you do. You do good. Don''t Forget, You child, can play. Just stay safe. We protect you." The boy smiled slightly at his father, feeling a small sense of relief. Leaving the plan on his bedding, he joined the others in collecting their bowls and lining up to receive their meal. As he waited for his turn, he noticed that more and more people were now wearing shoes, though many still seemed unaccustomed to having their feet covered instead of feeling the earth directly beneath them. Ok seemed to be doing good work, crafting shoes that fit well enough. With more people having their soles protected, the risk of foot injuries would decrease, making the tribe more mobile and active. The change, though small, would have a lasting impact on their daily lives. Turning his attention to Lara, who was now in charge of preparing the meals and tending the fire, Athan noticed how she had grown into her role. The girl seemed to take great pride in the fact that the clan enjoyed the food she made. The simple recipe Athan had shown her had quickly become the best meal the tribe had known so far, and she carried that success with immense pride. Nourishing the clan, providing them with warmth and sustenance, gave her a sense of fulfillment, and it showed in the way she worked with confidence and dedication. Smiling at Athan, who was watching her, Lara continued serving the various members of the clan, ladling out rabbit stew with cooked roots that had simmered throughout the day. The fish would be saved for the next day''s soup, while the birds hunted earlier would accompany tonight''s meal. When it was Athan''s turn, he took his portion and sat down not far from the fire. Taking a careful sip of the soup, he found it delicious. He didn''t recognize some of the herbs that had been used to enhance the broth, but since the clan had eaten them before, he assumed they were safe. Lowering his bowl, he looked at Lara with a smile. "This is really delicious." Lara, blushing at the compliment, returned his smile and murmured a shy, "Thank you." His father, watching the exchange, smiled mischievously. "Yes, Lara would make a good woman to have," he said with a knowing wink at the boy. A ripple of chuckles spread among the men, their laughter deep and amused, but it quickly faded as they noticed the sharp glares from the women. Some of the men cleared their throats awkwardly, shifting their weight uncomfortably, while others suddenly found great interest in their food. Wade, unbothered, smirked and took a slow bite of his meal, clearly enjoying the playful tension he had stirred in the group. The boy focused on his food, his thoughts lingering on what he had known for some time¡ªLara was the only woman in the group without a partner, also being the youngest at around sixteen years old. The clan did not practice strict monogamy; with too few males, such a system was not feasible. However, once a family was formed, it remained intact until the man''s death. This was largely because men often took on the most dangerous tasks, such as retrieving water from rivers teeming with aquatic predators or defending against jungle threats. Their lives were far riskier, while the women took on the responsibility of managing the community, ensuring its stability and survival. At first, Athan had believed his father to be the sole leader of the clan, the one in charge of everything. But over time, his perspective shifted. He came to realize that while Wade gave orders in moments of danger, the true authority¡ªthe one who determined the clan''s direction and long-term decisions¡ªwas his mother. She was the Matriarch of the clan, the one who ensured their continued existence. The boy made a mental note, to discuss the plan he had put on paper to his mother, before going to bed. Athan glanced at Lara, who was fidgeting in place after his father''s comment, her face flushed a deep crimson. He observed her for a moment, considering the unspoken future. Perhaps one day, she would be his, given that he was the only male child in the clan. The thought made his cheeks warm slightly, but they were not there yet. There was still time. Looking at her again, he spoke softly, "Don''t worry about what Father said... even if it is true." His tone was reassuring, hoping to ease her embarrassment before he returned his focus to his meal. He finished his bowl of broth, lowering it with a quiet sigh of relief. A warm meal after a long day of work always felt satisfying. The rich flavors lingered on his tongue, and the warmth spread through his body, easing the exhaustion that had settled into his muscles. However, as he glanced up, he realized the entire group had gone quiet, their gazes fixed on him. Lara, if possible, seemed even more shy than before, her hands gripping her bowl tightly as she stared down at it, refusing to meet his eye. A few of the older women exchanged amused glances, whispering among themselves, while some of the men smirked, nudging each other playfully. Every members of the tribe seemed to sense that something was happening, their curious eyes flicking between Athan and Lara. Athan felt a slight heat creep up his neck. He wasn''t sure what to do, so he simply cleared his throat and shifted in place. The attention felt overwhelming, but he forced himself to remain composed. Letting out a small breath, he turned back to his meal, pretending not to notice the silent teasing lingering in the air. Deciding not to pay attention to the lingering stares, Athan quietly stood up and carried his bowl away from the group to wash it. Once finished, he retrieved the village plan from his bedding, intending to discuss it with his mother. Athan showed the plan to his mother, who smiled warmly at him, explaining that she had found it on the stone and brought it back to his bedding to ensure he wouldn''t lose his work. Curious, Athan asked if she had looked at it. She nodded, admitting that she had studied it but hadn''t fully understood everything. She traced her fingers along the lines, comparing them to the original sketch he had once drawn in the dirt, tilting her head slightly as if trying to piece the information together. Noticing her curiosity, Athan grinned and leaned in, pointing to various sections of the plan with enthusiasm. His voice carried an undertone of pride as he began explaining the new additions in simple words, making sure his mother could follow along. He gestured toward different areas of the map, using his hands to mimic walls, structures, and pathways, making the vision in his head more tangible for her. As he spoke, his mother''s eyes flickered between the parchment and her son''s eager expression, the warmth in her gaze growing. His mother listened attentively, pleased by the inclusion of the defensive wall, the cultivated field, and the houses they planned to build. As Athan explained, she nodded along, her fingers occasionally tracing the markings on the plan as she visualized the changes. The idea of a sturdy wall surrounding their settlement would brought them a sense of security, and the thought of a stable food supply from the cultivated field was reassuring. The concept of permanent homes intrigued her the most, as it signified a shift from a transient way of life to something more stable. These elements made sense to her, as they had discussed them in previous sessions when Athan had been trying to improve her understanding of more complex concepts. She remembered those late evenings when he had drawn diagrams in the dirt, using stones and sticks to demonstrate ideas, his small hands moving with confidence beyond his years. Now, seeing it all laid out in detail on a proper plan, she began to truly grasp the scope of her son''s vision. However, when Athan mentioned the future communal baths and toilets, her expression shifted to surprise and delight. She straightened, her fingers pausing over the plan as if she needed to confirm what she had just heard. As a woman, maintaining cleanliness and avoiding bad odors had always been a priority for her, and she knew the same was true for the other women in the tribe. Even though they never truly could bathe, until now, they made do with a little water and sometimes rubbed their limbs with wildflowers they had gathered here and there. The idea of a designated place for hygiene struck her as particularly valuable, a concept that could change their daily lives in ways she hadn''t considered before. No longer would they need to trek far from camp to find a private place to clean or relieve themselves, constantly wary of predators or prying eyes. The mere thought of it brought a rare sense of relief, one she hadn''t realized she needed. She looked at Athan, her gaze filled with something more than pride¡ªit was gratitude. This was not just about survival or protection; it was about comfort, dignity, and progress. For the first time, Athan saw genuine excitement light up her face at the prospect of such an innovation for the tribe, and he knew, at that moment, he had truly convinced her of his vision. Asking his mother if she thought certain tasks should be prioritized, she took a moment to reflect. "Wall comes first," she said firmly. "Without protection, tribe won''t last." Ensuring she understood correctly, Athan added, "The fields need time to produce food in abundance," to which his mother nodded in confirmation. "So, fields come next," she continued. "Then, we build houses. Staying under trees when it rains is a bother, and drying pelts takes too long." She then glanced back at the plan, considering one more thing. "Toilets come first before baths. Staying healthy is more important than comfort." With a clear plan set, mother and son confirmed the roadmap for the coming days, possibly even months. The clan would continue working at full speed to build the protective wall while Athan advanced his farming efforts. Once the wall was completed, they would begin constructing houses for the tribe members. Satisfied with the discussion, Athan''s mother gently closed the village plan. She pulled him close, and together, they watched the rest of the clan, their laughter and conversations filling the night air. Athan felt a deep sense of satisfaction. As the evening stretched on, he sat beside his mother, silently observing their people until it was time to sleep. Chapter 12 - The Right Tool for the Right Job Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On Patreon, we''re already at Chapter 19, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? --------------------------
Athan awoke to the soft hum of the morning, the sounds of the tribe stirring around him as everyone began their daily routines. The crisp air carried the scent of damp earth and smoldering embers from the fire that had burned through the night. Ok, still nursing his injured foot, Medi and Fi helped him seat at his work area, before he started carefully crafting more shoes. Determined to prevent others from suffering the same injury, he focused intently, shaping the materials with precise movements. Despite his wound, his hands moved steadily, driven by his task. Athan''s mother rose with the first light and made her way toward the injured man. Each morning, she cleaned his wound with care, ensuring it remained free of infection before reapplying the medicinal herbs that would aid in its healing. Her touch was gentle but efficient, her knowledge of healing vital to the tribe''s survival. The hunters, now all equipped with their new footwear, gathered their gear and set out into the forest. Their task was crucial¡ªfinding enough food to sustain the clan. Their steps were more sure-footed, no longer wary of sharp rocks or hidden thorns, a small but significant advantage. Meanwhile, Wade and Yun retrieved their axes and returned to their work, felling the necessary trees. Each strike echoed through the clearing as they stripped the branches and stacked the wood into neat piles, setting aside logs that would be used for later construction. Near the fire, Lara busied herself with her usual duties, tending to the flames and preparing the morning meal. However, Athan noticed something different about her today¡ªshe seemed more fatigued than usual, her movements slower. He wondered if she had not slept well, though she quickly turned away before he could confirm his suspicions. Elsewhere, a group of women, preferring tasks that did not require as much dexterity as weaving ropes, set to work clearing the ground and digging the trench for the outer wall. Until the previous day, Athan had worked alongside them, but now his responsibilities lay with the fields. With the tribe engaged in their respective duties, the settlement buzzed with quiet determination, each member contributing to their shared survival and progress. Athan took a deep breath, steeling himself for another day of labor¡ªthere was still much to be done. He pushed himself up from the ground, grabbing his knife before making his way toward the field he had started clearing the previous day. His steps were steady as he surveyed the three squares of soil he had prepared and planted the day before. The dirt was still damp in places, but he knew it wouldn''t stay that way for long. He made his way to the water source, filling his waterskin before returning to the field. Carefully, he poured water over each patch, ensuring the seeds received enough moisture to take root. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the next task¡ªremoving the remaining stumps from the land. Each tree''s roots were still tangled in the soil, making them difficult to pull free. Using his knife, he scraped away at the base of a particularly stubborn stump, loosening the packed dirt before attempting to lift it. Once freed, he piled the stumps together, forming a controlled burn site. He set fire to them, feeding the flames occasionally with dried branches to keep them burning efficiently. While waiting for the stumps to turn to ash, he shifted focus to his next major task¡ªcarving the logs into U-shaped channels. These would eventually serve as conduits to transport water from the waterfall directly to the fields, ensuring a steady and controlled water supply. Sitting cross-legged near the fire, he picked up one of the logs his father had brought him and began carefully hollowing it out with his knife. His strokes were precise but slow, each movement requiring patience. He shaved away layers of wood, gradually forming a groove deep enough for water to flow through. The work was demanding, but he welcomed it. The sooner he completed enough of these, the sooner he could implement his irrigation system. As the logs burned and the trenching progressed, Athan found himself slipping into the rhythm of his work, his hands moving with steady intent. The field, though still a work in progress, was beginning to take shape. Step by step, piece by piece, his vision was coming to life. ----------- Lara sat near the fire, poking at the embers absentmindedly, the warmth barely reaching through the exhaustion weighing on her limbs. She hadn''t slept well. In truth, she had barely slept at all. The events of the previous evening played over and over in her mind, replaying Athan''s words, the quiet sincerity in his voice when he had complimented her cooking. The way he had spoken¡ªso genuinely, so assuredly¡ªhad stirred something unfamiliar within her. She had felt a strange warmth at first, a pride she hadn''t known she craved. But as the night wore on, that pride twisted into something more complex, something she didn''t quite understand. Wade''s comment had made it worse. The way he had so easily remarked that she would make a good woman to have¡ªspoken with the weight of experience¡ªhad left her thoughts in turmoil. But what truly unsettled her was Athan''s response. He had agreed. Not out of jest, nor with hesitation. Just a simple, quiet agreement. The boy who had transformed their way of life, who had built fire with his own hands and shared that knowledge with her, who had brought forth ideas that none had ever dared to consider, had spoken in favor of the idea. And she didn''t know why, but that simple acknowledgment had refused to leave her mind. Even now, in the morning light, the thought lingered. She found herself avoiding his gaze, afraid of what she might see there¡ªafraid of what she might feel. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the fire in front of her, her thoughts kept drifting back to him. Now, in the light of morning, she found herself avoiding his gaze, unsure of the flurry of emotions inside her, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory. ------------- Athan, oblivious as always, continued his work in the field for several hours, methodically expanding the cultivated area. The sun climbed higher in the sky, its warmth intensifying as sweat gathered on his brow. His hands, caked with soil, moved with determined precision as he worked through the morning, focused on making steady progress. By midday, he had successfully prepared three additional patches of land, each carefully tilled and planted with a new type of seed. He worked meticulously, ensuring that each section was leveled properly before embedding the seeds into the rich earth. The repeated motion of digging, planting, and covering soon became rhythmic, his fingers moving with an efficiency that came with practice. Satisfied with his progress, he took a step back, rolling his shoulders and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Taking his waterskin to moisten his parched throat, he surveyed the field with a growing sense of pride. The soil, once wild and overgrown, was slowly transforming into something structured, something with purpose. The small enclosures, the carefully placed markers¡ªit all represented a future where food would no longer be uncertain. With time and patience, this place would provide nourishment, stability, and a future for the clan. And he had only just begun. He continued burning the stumps he had pulled from the ground. For those too deeply embedded in the soil, he set them alight where they stood, letting the fire gradually weaken them before attempting to remove them. As the flames took their time to consume the stubborn roots, he sat back down and resumed carving the U-shaped troughs from the logs his father had brought him. He had already completed seven and was now beginning the eighth. Soon, he would have enough to assemble a functioning irrigation system, a thought that filled him with excitement. To ensure the water distribution was even, Athan took extra measures. He had added layers of soil to elevate the planting plots slightly, shaping them into small raised beds. At the same time, he dug out the spaces between them, creating pathways for both walking and controlled water flow. His plan was simple: when the time came, he would pour water into these paths, allowing it to disperse naturally and irrigate all the crops at once. Thinking ahead, he glanced at the pile of stones he had unearthed while working the land. An idea formed in his mind, and, letting go of the trunk he was carving, he carefully selected stones that would be stable underfoot. He then began placing them deliberately between the plots, pressing them firmly into the dirt. Each stone was positioned to create a steady path, preventing the walkways from turning into deep, muddy trenches when wet. This arrangement would allow water to flow freely between the stones while also providing a solid surface to walk on, making movement across the field easier and more efficient. However, he knew that when the ground became saturated with water, stepping on the rocks would drive them deeper into the earth. Adding more stones over time would be necessary to maintain the path. With each adjustment, his vision for the field took clearer shape. The work was exhausting, but as he stepped back to observe the progress, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He wasn''t just growing food¡ªhe was building a system for the future. After a while, Athan decided to take a break. He walked toward the waterfall basin, letting the cool water wash away the dirt and sweat from his skin. The refreshing sensation was invigorating after hours of labor. Taking a look at his arms, he noticed they were tanning visibly. Without sunscreen, he would have to be careful not to get sunburned. As he finished, he turned back toward his bedding, catching Lara watching him from the corner of his eye. He offered her a small smile, but she quickly looked away for some reason. Shrugging it off, he grabbed his plan and made his way toward the wall, where half the clan was busy constructing it. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Observing the progress, Athan estimated that about one-third of the trench was completed, with the wall following not far behind. The workers moved efficiently, though most were still using their hands to dig the earth, slowing their progress. He frowned slightly. If they had better tools, they could work much faster and more effectively. Deciding to address this, Athan went to gather several long, sturdy branches. He stripped them of their bark before sitting near Ok, who was still focused on crafting shoes. Ok raised an eyebrow in silent curiosity as Athan borrowed his bow drill. With practiced movements, he used the tool to drill holes into the thicker ends of the branches, carefully ensuring each one was deep and wide enough. Once all the holes were made, he moved closer to the fire. He attempted to start a conversation with Lara, but she avoided him again, her gaze fixed elsewhere. The boy was wondering what the problem was, but shrugged it off as he still had work to do and focused on his task. Using the tongs he had previously crafted, he carefully picked up glowing embers from the fire and placed them inside the holes he had drilled. He blew gently on the embers, allowing the heat to expand the openings. Over time, the holes grew larger, deep enough to hold the next crucial component. After ensuring they were the right size, Athan inserted long, sturdy stones into each hole, securing them firmly. The result was a simple yet effective digging tool¡ªrudimentary hoe designed to make trenching far easier than using bare hands or knife. Satisfied with his work, he prepared to distribute them among the workers, eager to see how much they would improve the clan''s progress. Athan took one at a time, the five newly crafted tools toward the group of women working on the trench. As he approached, they paused their work, wiping sweat from their brows, their hands covered in dirt from hours of digging. He knelt beside one of them, demonstrating how to hold the tool properly, positioning the stone edge against the ground before applying controlled force with their foot to break the soil. He showed them how to use the leverage of the wooden handle to loosen compacted dirt more effectively than digging with bare hands. The women watched intently, their eyes filled with curiosity as they tested the tool for themselves. One of them, gripping the handle firmly, mimicked Athan''s movements, pressing the stone tip into the earth and prying up a chunk of soil. Her eyes widened slightly at how much easier it was. Encouraged, the others followed suit, each taking a tool and adapting their own technique under Athan''s guidance. He observed their progress, offering small adjustments when needed. "Push here, not there," he advised, repositioning a woman''s grip to give her more stability. "Use weight, not just arms," he added, demonstrating how to lean into the motion to maximize force without tiring quickly. As they worked, the pace of excavation noticeably improved. The once slow and tedious task became more efficient, the trench deepening at a faster rate. Seeing their success, Athan felt a quiet satisfaction. This was why he created these tools¡ªto make life easier, to help the clan grow stronger together. He gave a nod of approval before stepping back, watching as they dug with renewed energy. With the trenching progressing smoothly, he turned and made his way back to the field, determined to complete the U-shaped logs for the irrigation system. His hands were already sore from hours of carving, but he pushed through, knowing that finishing this task would bring them one step closer to a reliable water source for the crops. He reached his workspace and ran his fingers over the partially hollowed logs, assessing their depth. Picking up his stone knife, he resumed carving, his strokes steady and precise. Each movement scraped away layers of wood, gradually refining the channel that would guide water to the fields. He worked methodically, making sure that each groove was smooth enough for water to flow without obstruction. Occasionally, he paused to adjust the curve, checking the alignment to ensure the sections would connect seamlessly when placed together. The sun bore down on his back as he continued, sweat trailing down his temple, but he ignored the discomfort. His mind focused solely on the task, visualizing how the completed system would function. He imagined the water trickling down from the waterfall, spreading evenly through the carved troughs, bringing life to the seeds he had planted. The thought fueled his determination, and he pressed on, committed to finishing before the day''s end. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Wade and Rael stood slightly apart from the rest of the clan, their eyes fixed on their son, who toiled under the relentless sun. The heat shimmered in waves across the clearing, and still, Athan worked, his small frame bent over the soil, carving, planting, building. A sigh escaped both parents¡ªone of pride, but also of deep concern. He was still so young, and yet he never rested, never played like other children might. His days were spent solving problems, creating tools, making life easier for the clan. It baffled them at times, how determined he was, how fiercely he pushed forward. Rael crossed her arms over her chest, her expression a mix of admiration and unease. "He never stops..." she murmured, watching as Athan carried the newly crafted tools over to the women digging the trench. His movements were efficient, purposeful, as if this was the only way he knew how to exist. Wade nodded slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. "No... but... look." He lifted his chin toward Athan, his words slow, deliberate. "Athan... always think. Others. Help." His gaze followed the boy as he demonstrated the tools with patience beyond his years. "Make life... better. Stronger clan." Rael let out a soft breath, warmth blooming in her chest at the thought. She had always known Athan was different, that he saw the world through a lens none of them possessed. He didn''t just follow the traditions of the clan¡ªhe reshaped them, refined them, sought to improve what had always been. And while that made her incredibly proud, it also filled her with worry. How much weight could a child bear before it became too much? Wade placed a firm hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "He... still child. But... change clan. Make good." Rael''s gaze remained on her son, watching as he wiped sweat from his brow, barely pausing before moving on to his next task. He was unlike any other child the clan had before, and she knew, deep in her heart, that he was shaping their future with every stroke of his knife, every seed he planted. But she also knew that one day, she would have to remind him to rest, to live. Because if he continued like this, she feared he would never know what it meant to simply be a child. Rael glanced toward Lara at that moment. The young woman, though focused on preparing the evening meal, kept sneaking glances in Athan''s direction from time to time. It wasn''t unusual¡ªRael had noticed Lara''s growing interest in the boy for a while now. The girl had always seemed drawn to him, eager to help, eager to learn. But since the previous night, something had shifted. There was hesitation in her eyes now, a quiet uncertainty mixed with something deeper. Her gaze lingered a moment too long before darting away, her hands fidgeting more than usual as she prepared the food. Rael had seen many young women look at men this way before, but Lara was barely aware of what she was feeling. It wasn''t just admiration anymore¡ªit was confusion, curiosity, perhaps something even more complicated. Rael let out a quiet sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. This was not something that needed immediate attention, not when there were more pressing matters at hand. But she knew that one day soon, she would have to speak to Lara, to guide her through the emotions that were beginning to take root in her heart. For now, though, she let it be, watching as the girl stole another glance before quickly turning back to the fire. ------------ "Finished", the boy murmured to himself, dropping to the ground the last piece of wood he had been carving. Now, finally, he could assemble the water pipe system to bring water to the crops. He carefully laid out the carved wooden pieces in a line, connecting them visually from the waterfall to the fields, ensuring they would fit together properly, dropping in the next one using gravity. A sense of pride swelled in his chest as he took a step back to admire his work. The next step would be to cut Y-shaped wooden supports, which would hold the pipes above the ground and keep them steady without rotting. He would also need to plant the base of each support deep into the earth to ensure stability. However, glancing up at the sky, he quickly realized that the day was slipping away. There wouldn''t be enough time to complete everything before nightfall. With that in mind, he decided to focus on crafting a proper hammer first. The time of using just a rock as a tool to drive wooden stakes into the ground was over¡ªhe needed something more efficient. Grabbing a sturdy log and a thick branch, Athan carried them over to where Ok was seated. The older man was muttering under his breath, frustration evident in his furrowed brows. Curious, Athan settled beside him and asked, "What wrong?" Ok let out a huff before gesturing to a broken shoe beside him. "Hunter break it. Yesterday, I give him. Today, gone. Crack." Athan picked up the damaged shoe, examining it closely. His sharp eyes traced the split in the wood, running a finger over the deep groove carved into the sole. After a few moments, he understood the problem. "Groove too deep," he explained, pointing to the fracture. "When step... weight press here¡ª" he tapped the weak spot "¡ªand crack, break." Ok scowled but nodded. "Fix how?" Athan thought for a moment before responding. "Make groove smaller. Less deep. Shoe still grip, but no break. Try?" Ok sighed but gave a small grunt of agreement, already reaching for another piece of wood to begin adjusting the design. Athan watched for a moment, pleased that his suggestion was accepted, before turning his attention back to his own task. Setting the thick branch across his lap, Athan picked up his knife and began carving, shaping one end into a smooth, rounded surface to serve as the handle. He worked meticulously, shaving away layers of bark and rough wood until the grip was comfortable in his hands. The other piece, a solid log, would form the hammer''s head. He carefully measured the center of the log, marking where the handle would be inserted. Using his bow drill, Athan quickly worked to create the hole through the center of the log. He applied steady pressure, the sharp stone grinding against the log as he rotated the drill. Fine wood shavings curled away from the growing hole, and soon, a clean, round opening began to take shape. Once the hole was through, he carefully expanded and smoothed its edges with his knife, ensuring it was precisely shaped to fit the handle snugly. He tested the size, making small adjustments until he was certain that the connection would be strong. The precision of the carved hole meant that the handle would slide in securely, minimizing any risk of movement or weakness over time. Once satisfied with the hole, he carefully slid the handle through, adjusting the fit until it was snug. To secure it, he took a small wooden wedge he had prepared earlier, placing it inside the opening at the top of the handle. Taking a stone, he gently but firmly hammered the wedge into place, causing the wood to expand and lock tightly within the log. The connection was now solid¡ªstrong enough to withstand repeated use without loosening. Holding the completed hammer in his hands, Athan gave it a few test swings, feeling the weight balance between the handle and the head. It felt sturdy, reliable¡ªexactly what he needed to drive stakes into the ground efficiently. Satisfied, he set it aside, already thinking of the next task ahead. Calculating the position of the sun, Athan realized he didn''t have much time left before the day''s work would have to stop. He stood up, stretching his sore muscles, and made his way toward the trench where the women were digging, now fully equipped with the tools he had crafted for them. He wanted to see for himself how well they were working. As he arrived, he was taken aback. The trench had nearly doubled in length in just a few hours. The women, who had once struggled to dig with their bare hands, knives, and spearheads, now worked with swift efficiency, their movements precise and fluid. Their faces glowed with satisfaction, and a few even exchanged excited murmurs as they dug deeper into the earth, while others teased the two men constructing the walls about their slow pace, laughing as they did. The new tools had made all the difference, turning a grueling, slow task into something far more manageable. One of the women, noticing Athan, paused her work and beamed at him. "Good! Fast now! No pain!" Another nodded enthusiastically, lifting her tool with pride. "Dig easy. Hands no hurt." Athan couldn''t help but smile at their excitement. Seeing the direct impact of his work filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment. His tools were not just ideas anymore¡ªthey were changing the way the clan lived, making tasks easier, and helping everyone progress faster. As he walked along the edge of the trench, inspecting their progress, he made mental notes of what could be improved. Maybe in the future, they could mine stones and incorporate them into the walls, reinforcing them and making them significantly harder to breach. However, to achieve that, he would need to create cement or mortar¡ªa process he only partially understood but could not yet execute with their current resources. For now, the wall was already taking shape, its foundation solid. Though there were still refinements to be made, they could focus on those once their immediate needs¡ªfood, shelter, and tools¡ªwere fully secured. This was just the beginning, but step by step, they were building something stronger, something that could last. For now, he simply nodded in approval and encouraged them to keep going, their laughter and newfound energy pushing them to dig even faster. The future of the settlement was taking good shape before his very eyes. Chapter 13 - Unseen Ripples Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 20, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ----------------------- Athan stepped out of the trench area and made his way back to his bedding. He needed to deposit the village plan he had inspected earlier to keep it safe before heading out to gather materials. Carefully, he placed the rolled parchment on is bedding and weighed it down with a small branch to prevent it from shifting in the evening breeze. With his task complete, he turned his attention to the next priority¡ªfinding branches shaped like a Y. Having already crafted twelve U-shaped pipes, he needed at least twenty-four Y-shaped branches to support each end properly. Using the fading sunlight as his guide, he made his way toward the pile of branches that his father and Yun had cut from the trunks meant for the wall. The heap was a mix of thick and thin branches, some still bearing rough bark, while others had been stripped down to reveal the pale, fresh wood beneath. He crouched down, running his hands over the uneven surfaces, feeling the splinters prick his skin as he assessed their shapes. He examined them closely, searching for Y-shaped pieces that could be repurposed for his project. Some were too frail, while others were gnarled and twisted beyond use. He set aside a few promising ones, stacking them neatly beside him. The warm hues of the setting sun filtered through the canopy, casting long shadows across the ground and highlighting the rough texture of the freshly cut wood. The scent of resin filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of damp soil as he worked diligently, ensuring he would have enough materials to begin his construction in the morning. His plan was simple: gather as many as possible before nightfall so that tomorrow he could begin his day with all the necessary materials in hand. Now that he had inspected the pile left by his father and Yun, he shifted his attention to the surrounding trees, hoping to supplement his collection. His keen eyes darted from trunk to trunk, analyzing their structure and potential usefulness. Some branches were still too young, while others had brittle limbs that would snap too easily under pressure. The evening air was crisp, filled with the scent of resin from the freshly cut wood and the damp earth beneath his feet. Shadows stretched across the ground as he carefully maneuvered through the underbrush, reaching up to test a few promising branches. He worked with precision, ensuring that each selection would be sturdy enough to support his construction, determined to complete his task before darkness fully set in. As the final rays of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, Athan let out a satisfied breath. He had completed his task, having found a total of twenty-seven Y-shaped branches. The day''s work had been fruitful, and tomorrow he would begin assembling the watering system with them. Feeling the fatigue creeping into his limbs, he made his way back to his bedding to retrieve his bowl before heading to the meal line. The day''s labor had left his muscles sore, and the idea of a warm meal was a welcome relief. The air carried the rich scent of simmering stew, mixed with the faint crackling of the cooking fire. Lara stood at the makeshift serving station, her fingers gripping Athan''s bowl a little too tightly as she took it from him. A flicker of hesitation passed across her face before she dipped the bowl into the cooking pot, letting the steaming broth fill it. The scent of herbs and simmered meat rose between them, but Lara seemed momentarily distracted, her movements stiff and deliberate. Using the long wooden spoon Athan had crafted, she carefully scooped up large chunks of root vegetables and meat from the bottom, placing them in his portion with an almost mechanical precision. Her shoulders remained tense, and as she finally handed the bowl back to him, her eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze. Athan noticed the unease in her demeanor. Her fingers trembled slightly before she pulled them back, her posture rigid as she turned back to the pot. He met her avoidance with a questioning look, his brow furrowing slightly, but chose not to press the issue. Instead, he silently took his meal and stepped away, feeling the warmth of the stew seep through the bowl and into his hands. Lifting the bowl to his lips, he drank the hot broth directly, savoring the rich taste of herbs and meat. He picked out the larger chunks with his fingers, eating slowly as he had settled into a quiet spot. Yet, despite the comforting meal, the lingering curiosity about Lara''s reaction stayed in his mind. Feeling the weight of several gazes on him, Athan lifted his head, his senses sharpening. The murmuring of the clan members around him didn''t fade, but it grew more hushed, more conspiratorial. As he glanced around, he caught sight of a few women from the tribe quickly turning away, feigning disinterest as they focused on their meals. Yet their averted gazes and poorly concealed grins told a different story. Others, however, made no attempt to hide their amusement. A small cluster of women exchanged glances, their lips curling into knowing smiles. A few even let out hushed giggles, their eyes flicking between him and Lara before quickly whispering amongst themselves. The sound carried just enough for him to catch it, but not enough for him to make out their words. Athan felt a flicker of unease. He wasn''t imagining things. The clan members'' reactions were unmistakable¡ªthere was an unspoken understanding among them, a shared knowledge that eluded him. He could feel it in the way their eyes lingered, in the suppressed laughter, in the quick glances toward Lara before looking away. Whatever it was, he was at the center of it, and it unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind¡ªwere they implying that he and Lara were a pair? The idea made his stomach twist in surprise. He had been so focused on survival and innovation that the concept of romance had never crossed his mind, at least not in this life. If he factored in his past existence, he would be around twenty-four years old, an adult with firm opinions on what was appropriate. But to the tribe, he was nothing more than a six-year-old boy, standing beside a girl on the cusp of adulthood. The age gap unsettled him, making his mind race with contradictions. In the world he had once known, such a difference would have been unacceptable, a topic of heavy scrutiny and even jail time. But here, in this untamed land, relationships were dictated by survival, lineage, and the continuation of the tribe. There were no written rules, no societal constructs against such things¡ªonly the unspoken understanding of what was practical and necessary. Athan exhaled slowly, his thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions. The idea felt unnatural to him now, like a concept he wasn''t prepared to entertain. But could he say the same in a few years? The uncertainty gnawed at him. A part of him rejected the notion outright, clinging to the values ingrained in him from his past life. Yet, another part, the pragmatic side adapting to this world, recognized that as he matured, perspectives might shift, shaped by the harsh realities of survival and the expectations of the tribe. He closed his eyes briefly, grounding himself in the present. There was no need to dwell on uncertainties when the path ahead was already filled with challenges. Strengthening the tribe, securing food, shelter, and protection¡ªthese were his concerns. His own future, whatever it might entail, could wait until the time was right. Right now, he had a responsibility not just to himself, but to the people who depended on him, and he wasn''t about to let distractions cloud his purpose. Letting the matter drop, he chose to ignore the lingering gazes and hushed comments from the others. Instead, he turned his attention to the night sky, his mind shifting to the tasks of the next day. The flickering campfires cast long shadows around him, but it was the celestial expanse above that truly caught his focus. The moon bathed the landscape in a pale glow, and as his eyes roamed the vast spread of stars, a strange realization crept over him. Some of the constellations were familiar, their arrangements evoking a distant memory of countless nights spent staring at the sky in his past life. But others seemed out of place, shifted slightly or completely absent, as if the heavens themselves bore the marks of a world different from the one he had once known. A lingering unease settled in his chest. Had he merely forgotten, or was this yet another sign that he was in a reality entirely unlike his own? He let out a slow breath, pushing the thought aside for now. Tomorrow had its own challenges, and he needed to be ready. With that, he lay back on his bedding, allowing the soft hum of the night to lull him into rest, though the quiet questions in his mind remained unanswered. ------------- As the first rays of sunlight warmed the land, Athan rose with a renewed sense of purpose. He stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the stiffness from the night before. With steady determination, he set off to retrieve the Y-shaped branches he had gathered the previous evening. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh foliage as he moved through the camp. Once he reached the pile, he took out his knife and set to work, methodically stripping away the small excess twigs and peeling off the rough bark with careful precision. The freshly exposed wood revealed a pale, smooth surface beneath, contrasting against the darker, aged outer layer. Running his fingers along the cleaned wood, he could feel the natural grain beneath his touch, each curve and knot a testament to the branch''s growth. After ensuring each branch was free of unnecessary protrusions, he gripped his knife firmly and began carving the base of each Y-branch into a pointed stake. With slow, deliberate strokes, he shaped the ends into sharp, sturdy points, making sure they would drive deep into the soil without splitting. The rhythmic motion of cutting and shaping became almost meditative, the repetitive task keeping his thoughts centered. Occasionally, he tested the strength of the wood, pressing a sharpened end against the ground to ensure it wouldn''t crack under pressure. Though the work was rough and far from elegant, he found himself satisfied with the results. These supports weren''t meant to be decorative; they were functional, crafted for endurance rather than aesthetics. Looking over his finished pile, he gave a small nod of approval before moving on to the next step of his plan. With all the U-shaped pipes laid out the previous day, he took a step back, mentally mapping where to plant each support. He reserved the tallest branches for placement near the waterfall, where greater height would help regulate the flow, while the shorter ones would be placed closer to the fields for a gentle descent. Gripping his newly crafted wooden hammer, he set to work, starting with the supports nearest to the cultivated land. He adjusted each stake by eye, testing the fit of the U-shaped pipes as he progressed. Ensuring the water''s flow was neither too steep nor too sluggish required careful placement. Just as he drove the third Y-branch into the soil, he felt unexpected resistance¡ªa hidden underground rock obstructed his efforts. Frustrated but undeterred, he paused, kneeling down to dig out the obstruction with his hands before carefully refilling the hole and planting the support once more. As he moved closer to the waterfall, the number of buried stones increased, forcing him to stop several times to clear obstacles. He wiped his brow, exhaling deeply as he sat on a nearby rock to rest, gazing at the roaring cascade. The sheer power of the falling water reassured him, reminding him why this irrigation system was essential. Once the final Y-branch was in place, its base secured by a mound of carefully stacked stones, Athan took a step back, wiping his hands against his tunic. His fingers were sore from gripping the wooden hammer for so long, but the exhaustion was overshadowed by anticipation. Now came the true test¡ªwould the structure function as intended? He took a deep breath, steadying himself before carefully positioning the final U-shaped pipe at the waterfall''s edge. As soon as it was in place, water surged forward, tumbling into the channel with a rush. The force of gravity pulled the liquid down through the wooden conduits, cascading smoothly from one segment to the next, each connection allowing it to continue its descent without spilling over the edges. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Athan moved alongside the flow, eyes scanning for weak points or leaks. The sound of trickling water filled the air, a soothing contrast to the usual stillness of the land. Droplets clung to the wooden supports, reflecting the morning sunlight like scattered jewels. A few smaller splashes escaped from imperfect joints, but nothing severe enough to disrupt the system. He felt a sense of relief¡ªhis efforts were paying off. As he neared the fields, his gaze followed the stream as it pooled into the designated area, filling the stone-lined trench he had carefully laid out. The sight filled him with pride. He crouched down, running his fingers through the flowing water, feeling its coolness against his skin. It worked. The tribe would have a stable water source for the field, and this was just the beginning of what he could build. Watching the water crash against the ground, Athan quickly noticed that the single stone placed at the point of impact was not enough to prevent soil erosion. Small rivulets formed around the rock, carving thin channels into the earth as the force of the current displaced loose dirt and pebbles. The problem was clear¡ªthe stone was too small to effectively break the flow of water. If left unchecked, the erosion would only worsen, compromising the integrity of his system. To mitigate the issue, he quickly placed a large stone where the water struck the ground, breaking the momentum to prevent further erosion. He made a mental note to build a small containment basin to stabilize the final water outlet. This would allow for better control of the water''s dispersal and avoid unnecessary damage to the terrain. As Athan observed the flow of water, he quickly noticed areas where the current moved too rapidly. In certain spots, the angle was too steep, allowing the water to rush downward with excessive force, splashing everywhere. He realized that adding a layer of packed earth beneath the stakes could help reduce the incline, slowing the descent and preventing unnecessary stress on the system. Additionally, where the waterfall''s flow entered the first pipe, the sheer force of the impact caused the structure to tremble slightly. The vibrations unsettled him¡ªif left unaddressed, this section of the system would likely weaken over time and eventually collapse under continuous pressure. Determined to reinforce the design, he carefully removed the U-shaped pipe feeding water from the waterfall and set it aside. As he thought about the issue, he realized he needed something to break the water''s fall before it entered the system. Perhaps placing an additional wooden piece could serve as a deflector, dispersing the force of the flow and reducing the direct impact on the pipes. This would help stabilize the structure and prevent unnecessary strain over time, only requiring the occasional replacement of the wooden deflector when needed. Rolling up his sleeves, he began making the necessary modifications. He adjusted the slope by carefully layering compacted soil around the stakes, pressing it down to create a more stable incline. To further stabilize the base where the waterfall entered the system, Athan installed the newly crafted wooden deflector. He carefully wedged the wooden piece at an angle, allowing it to disperse the force of the falling water before it reached the pipes. To secure it in place, he strategically placed additional stones around its base and packed the surrounding earth tightly. The deflector immediately softened the impact, causing the water to flow more evenly and reducing vibrations in the structure. The work proved more time-consuming than he had anticipated. Each adjustment required careful testing, ensuring the modifications improved stability without disrupting the overall flow. As the hours passed, sweat beaded on his brow, but he remained focused, determined to see the project through. By the time the sun had dipped low in the sky, he finally completed the adjustments. Exhausted but satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work, hopeful that these reinforcements would ensure the irrigation system''s longevity. ------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon and Athan had yet to return for supper, his father and mother, who had been keeping an eye on him throughout the day, decided to check on him. They found him drenched, his tunic damp with sweat and water, his hands covered in dirt and small cuts from handling wood and stone all day. His hair stuck to his forehead, and streaks of dried mud covered his arms, but despite his exhausted state, there was a deep sense of satisfaction in his eyes. His father''s sharp gaze scanned the wooden and stone framework, his brow furrowing with curiosity. He stepped closer, running a calloused hand along one of the wooden supports, testing its stability. The structure was solid, standing firm despite the day''s long work. The smell of damp earth and freshly cut wood lingered in the air, a testament to the labor Athan had poured into the project. For now, the system remained inactive, waiting for the moment Athan would demonstrate its purpose. Around them, the faint rustling of the evening breeze carried the sounds of the village winding down after a long day. His mother lingered a few steps behind, her expression unreadable as she observed her son''s work. Around them, a few other clan members approached hesitantly, drawn by the sight of the strange structure and the determination etched on Athan''s young face. "Athan, what this?" his father asked, his voice holding both interest and doubt. Athan wiped his hands on his tunic and straightened. "This is water system," he explained, gesturing towards the structure. "Come, I show." Leading them towards a small patch of land, he crouched and pointed at the ground. "Here, I put seed. Small. Weak. Needs sun. Needs warm. But most, needs water." His father knelt beside him, running his fingers over the soil. "Water come from system?" Athan nodded. "Yes. See now." He hurried back to the structure, carefully positioning the final U-shaped pipe at the system''s entrance. With a firm push, he locked it into place, completing the flow path. A moment of stillness followed before the first rush of water surged forward, tumbling down the wooden channels. The gathered villagers watched with wide eyes as the stream wove through the carefully positioned supports, cascading into the stone-lined trenches Athan had meticulously arranged. The soft gurgle of flowing water filled the air, blending with the crackling of distant fires and the hushed murmurs of the observing crowd. Gasps and murmurs spread through the gathering crowd as they watched the water move naturally toward the soil. His mother stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder. "No need carry water?" Athan shook his head, a proud smile forming. "No. Water come morning, come night. Soil stay wet. Plants grow better." His father exhaled, rubbing his chin. "No need heavy carry," he muttered, clearly seeing the benefit of Athan''s system. One of the hunters, arms crossed, gestured toward the waterfall with a skeptical expression. "What if water too much? Wood break?" Athan had expected the question. "Water too much? Goes there," he pointed to the deflector the absorb the pressure form the fall. "Wood break? I fix. Make stronger." Medi reached down, letting water run over her fingers. "Like river, but we control?" Athan nodded. "Yes." The crowd murmured among themselves, exchanging glances of surprise and admiration. Some, still cautious, stepped forward, running their hands over the wooden supports and tracing the path of the water with their fingers, as if trying to understand the system through touch. Others whispered among themselves, their eyes flicking between Athan and the flowing water, realization slowly settling in. One of the older women, turned to Athan''s mother. She studied the boy for a moment, watching the quiet determination in his eyes, before leaning in and whispering, "Your boy¡­ he different. Make life better." Athan stood quietly, watching their reactions. This was only the start. If they could see how useful this was, they would begin to understand what else could be done, and then they would be shocked. After the demonstration, Athan let the water flow for a while, ensuring the field received enough moisture to last through the night. Once satisfied, he carefully removed the final U-shaped pipe, shutting off the system. With the water now redirected, he took a moment to observe the soaked earth, nodding to himself before stepping away. As the rest of the tribe began forming a line for dinner, he wiped his damp hands on his tunic, his stomach growling in anticipation of a well-earned meal. As before, Lara would not talk to the boy nor look his way, seemingly too shy to acknowledge him. That treatment might have hurt a real six-year-old, but Athan found it rather endearing. He chose not to press the matter, simply shrugging it off while his thoughts drifted to the expansion he planned for the field. He wanted to enlarge the cultivated area, remove the existing wild plants, and burn the stubborn trunks and roots that resisted extraction. Additionally, he aimed to increase the number of stones lining the pathways, ensuring that the water could flow properly without turning the soil into thick mud as he walk those pathways. Another thought crossed his mind¡ªkeeping track of his plantings. He considered making a simple record book to note essential details: the type of seeds he planted, the number of days before they sprouted, and what kind of plants emerged. Such information would be invaluable for planning future crops, allowing him to better understand which plants thrived and how best to manage the fields. ------------- As always, Rael was surprised by her son. He had told her before about how crops needed to be watered often, and she had imagined just how much time and effort such a task would require. She had pictured placing several people to carry water back and forth, ensuring that hundreds of plants received enough moisture to feed the tribe. The sheer manpower it would take seemed overwhelming. Athan had spoken about the watering system he wanted to create, but she hadn''t fully grasped what he meant until she saw it with her own eyes. Pouring water from a waterskin onto a plant¡ªthis she could visualize. But what the boy had built went far beyond her expectations. Yet, as she examined the structure, she realized it made perfect sense. Water always flowed downward unless something stopped it, just like a waterskin with a hole at the bottom. That, she understood. Athan had simply taken this natural principle and applied it in a way that no one in the tribe had ever considered. The channels he had carved, the supports he had placed, and the careful positioning of each component all worked together to guide the water exactly where it was needed. It was effortless, efficient, and, most importantly, it freed the tribe from the exhausting labor of hauling water by hand. She traced a finger along the smooth wood of one of the channels, feeling the lingering dampness where the water had flowed. The tribe had never needed such a thing before¡ªthey had always been moving, never staying in one place long enough to consider growing food in this way. But now, with settlement becoming a necessity, the sheer simplicity of it was almost frustrating. Now that she saw it in action, it seemed so obvious, yet only Athan had looked at the problem and devised a solution. He had taken what was natural¡ªwater flowing downward¡ªand given it purpose, guiding it where it was needed instead of letting it go to waste. It was a concept so simple yet so effective that it left her speechless. A quiet realization had long ago settled in her mind: her son saw the world differently. Where others simply followed what had always been, he created new paths, reshaping not just how they worked, but how they lived. And that thought, while filling her with pride, also unsettled her. How and where did those ideas keep coming to him so naturally? She turned her gaze back to him, standing near the structure with his small hands still smeared with dirt and sweat, his expression unreadable as he studied his work. He was young, the only child of the tribe, yet in that moment, he looked more like a leader than a boy. A sense of awe swelled in her chest, mixed with something else¡ªpride, yes, but also a flicker of something close to fear. Change was not always welcome, and she knew that what Athan was doing now was only the beginning, she felt it as she looked at her child. Watching the other member of the tribe, she knew that not everybody would welcome changing tradition, fearing what they could not comprehend. Fearing that change would be bad. But as his mother what else could she do ? She needed to protect her son''s from those who''d fear him. As the leader she could do it and she would. Watching over her son as everyone waited for their meal, Rael and the rest of the tribe observed how Lara acted when Athan looked at her¡ªhow she averted her gaze quickly, only to glance back at him when he wasn''t looking. It was subtle, but noticeable. The way of the clan dictated that women were the ones to signify their interest in a man of their choosing. With the men of the clan constantly placed in dangerous situations, choosing a mate was complicated¡ªwomen wanted a partner who would survive, especially if they bore children. That was why she had remained the only woman of Wade, while most men of the clan had multiple women with them. Other women had not wanted to risk being left alone with a child if their mate¡ªespecially the leader, the one who would need to make the most dangerous decisions when threats arose, sometimes even fighting those threats so the clan could move on¡ªwere to die. The risk was too great, and so they had chosen safety over Wade companionship. Now, seeing Lara''s actions, Rael wondered if the girl had already begun considering such things. Though Athan was still young, he was different¡ªhe had the soul of a born leader. He was changing things, proving himself resourceful and strong in ways no other male of the tribe had. Would that draw attention? Would that make others start to see him not just as a child, but as a future mate? For now, there was no immediate concern¡ªLara was the only woman in the tribe without a mate. But in the future, things could become complicated if the girl sought him out without considering what his position might become. The idea unsettled Rael. As his mother, she wanted to protect him, not just from external dangers but from the weight of choices he might not yet understand. With a sigh, Rael decided to address the matter directly. After the meal, she approached Lara, signaling for her to follow. The two women stepped away from the group, moving to a quieter spot where they wouldn''t be overheard. The faint glow of the fire cast flickering shadows on the ground as they walked, the distant murmur of the clan filling the silence between them. Rael stopped near a large tree, arms crossed, studying Lara for a moment before speaking. Her gaze was steady, her voice calm but firm, carrying the weight of experience and quiet authority. "What you want from Athan?" she asked, her words simple but carrying the weight of something much deeper. Lara hesitated, shifting on her feet. Her hands tightened into small fists at her sides before she finally raised her head to meet Rael''s gaze. "I¡­ don''t know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He¡­ different." Rael''s expression remained unreadable. "Different how?" Lara''s fingers twitched as she struggled to find the right words. "He not like others. He make things. Change things. Think big." She bit her lip, glancing away before continuing. "He strong. Not with hands, but with mind." Rael nodded slowly, taking in the girl''s words. "You watch him much. You like him?" Lara''s cheeks darkened, her head dipping in a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. "I not know. Not yet." She inhaled deeply before looking back at Rael. "But I¡­ see him. I want to know more." Rael studied her for a long moment, then crossed her arms. "Athan still child. You older. You know what that mean?" Lara''s expression shifted, a mix of realization and confusion crossing her features. "He not stay child forever. One day, he man." Rael sighed, rubbing her temple. "True. But now, not time for that. He think of tribe, not himself. He make water, make field. He not think of women." Lara nodded slowly, absorbing Rael''s words. "I understand. I wait. I watch. I not rush." Rael searched Lara''s face for any sign of deception but found none. With a small nod, she relaxed slightly. "Good. You be careful. Athan different, yes. But difference bring danger, too. Some fear what they not understand." Lara''s expression hardened slightly. Her eyes were fierce, filled with quiet determination. "Then I watch not just him. I watch others, too." Rael finally allowed herself a small smile. "Smart girl." She placed a hand on Lara''s shoulder, giving a firm but approving squeeze before turning back toward the rest of the tribe. "Come. We go back. Night cold." Lara nodded, following Rael silently. Though the conversation had been brief, an unspoken understanding had passed between them. They both knew that Athan was not just any child¡ªhe was something more, something that would shape the tribe''s future. And whether that future was bright or dangerous would depend not just on him, but on those who watched over him. Chapter 14 - Foundations of Progress Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 22, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ----------------------- Athan woke up feeling well-rested, unaware of the conversation that had taken place the night before between Rael and Lara. Stretching his arms, he shook off the last remnants of sleep before stepping out of his bedding. The cool morning air brushed against his skin as he made his way toward the basin at the base of the waterfall. Kneeling by the water''s edge, he cupped his hands and splashed the icy water onto his face, the sudden chill jolting him fully awake. He took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, earthy scent of the damp ground before straightening up and turning his gaze toward the fields. Walking over, he inspected the soil, pressing his fingers into the earth. The moisture was sufficient, meaning he wouldn''t need to run the watering system this morning. However, as his eyes trailed along the stone pathways, he noticed the mud had crept higher than expected, partially covering some of the stones. If left unchecked, it could make walking difficult and cause unnecessary mess when tending to the crops. Deciding on his first task for the day, Athan set his sights on the rocky area near the cliffside. That section contained plenty of stones suitable for reinforcing the pathways. Without delay, he moved toward the cliff, ready to gather enough stones to fortify the walkways and keep the field accessible despite the moisture in the soil. The boy worked on that for about an hour before stopping in his tracks. These constant trips back and forth were far too inefficient. If he continued like this, he would be exhausted before the day''s end. There had to be a better way. Taking a thoughtful look at the wood that had yet to be used, he made his decision. Stopping what he was doing, he selected several branches, cutting them into stake-like shapes. Then, he asked his father to push a well-sized log toward the fields for him. Once positioned, Athan carefully wedged stones against the sides to prevent the log from rolling or shifting. Satisfied, he borrowed Ok''s bow drill and began working. He meticulously drilled holes along the length of the log, ensuring each was deep enough to hold the carved stakes. One by one, he inserted the pointed ends of the stakes into the holes, securing them with a few solid strikes from his wooden mallet. He worked his way up the log, hammering each stake firmly into place before moving back down, repeating the process. The sound of the mallet echoed in the air, punctuated only by the occasional creak of straining wood. Then, after several more strikes¡ªCRACK! The log finally split in two, the tension giving way with a sharp snap. Athan examined the separated halves, aligning them neatly. Without wasting time, he repeated the same method, slowly but surely splitting the wood further into planks. They were far from perfectly straight, but they would still serve their purpose well enough. Leaving the planks where they were for now, he turned to his next task. He needed a proper tool for himself. Using the same method he had previously shown the adults, he set about crafting a small hatchet for personal use. With the right tool in hand, his work would become much easier. After a while, the hatchet was finally in his hands. Returning to his roughly cut planks, he began calculating the dimensions he needed. Using the middle sections of the wood, he traced precise lines with his knife, marking the areas he would cut. Once satisfied with his measurements, he took his hatchet and carefully began slicing through the wood, ensuring each cut followed the traced lines as accurately as possible. Finishing his first plank, he quickly replicated it, producing a second piece with the exact same dimensions. Afterward, he crafted two additional planks, slightly different in size, that would help form the sides of the structure he had in mind¡ªa simple box. Since he didn''t have nails, he relied on the same technique he had used for making his wooden hammer. He carved small protrusions along the edges of the planks and carefully measured and cut matching holes into the adjoining pieces. With careful precision, he inserted the interlocking sections into each other, ensuring a snug fit. Once in place, he took another small piece of wood and wedged it tightly between the joints, locking them securely together. The end result wasn''t perfect, but it was sturdy enough for his intended purpose. Looking at his work, Athan allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before moving on to the next step of his project. Continuing, he cut a rectangular wooden board slightly larger than the dimensions of the box he had just built. He smoothed out the rough edges with his knife, ensuring a better fit before proceeding. Using his bow drill, he carefully drilled holes along the surface of the board and into the edges of the box, taking extra time to align them precisely. Once the holes were prepared, he inserted wooden pegs, securing them tightly with firm taps from his wooden mallet to ensure everything held in place. Next, he focused on the handles. He selected two long, sturdy wooden pieces, carving them carefully to remove any rough bark and shaping them to provide a comfortable grip. In the middle of each handle, he carved small protrusions that would lock into the underside of the box. He then drilled corresponding holes at the bottom of the box, making sure the measurements aligned. With careful effort, he slid the handles into place, fitting the protrusions snugly into the holes before locking them with wooden wedges to prevent any movement. To further reinforce the structure, he decided to add legs beneath the box for stability. He cut two short, thick pieces of wood and secured them using the same interlocking method, hammering them into place with wooden pegs. With the base now sturdy, he moved on to the final, most important component¡ªmobility. At the end of the handles, he inserted a thick wooden rod, locking it firmly in place before drilling small holes through the sides for additional reinforcement. Then, he set his sights on the most challenging piece¡ªthe wheel. Carving a wheel required patience and precision. He selected a thick, round section of wood and began shaving it down gradually, ensuring an even shape. He continuously tested its balance, adjusting where necessary, until it could roll smoothly without wobbling. Knowing the importance of strength, he reinforced the wheel''s center with a wooden stud, securing it tightly. Once he was satisfied, he carefully drilled a hole through its middle and aligned it with the rod at the front of the handles. Sliding the wheel onto the rod, he secured it in place with another peg, hammering it just enough to allow smooth rotation without excessive movement. He stepped back, rolling the newly built structure slightly to test its function. The wheel turned as intended, supporting the weight of the box efficiently. With that final touch, his creation was complete. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers tracing the wood as he inspected every part. Athan had just built the first wheelbarrow, a tool that would forever change how they transported heavy loads in the village. Proud of his accomplishment, he lifted his gaze from his creation, only to realize that the sun was already setting. A wave of surprise washed over him¡ªhe had spent the entire day working on this one invention, completely neglecting his other tasks. A sense of unease settled in his chest. While the wheelbarrow was an important step forward, had he wasted an entire day on a single idea? Shaking off his frustration, he decided to check on the fields. As he approached, he ran his fingers through the soil, frowning slightly at its dryness. It was time to activate the watering system. Making his way to the system''s control point, he worked quickly, redirecting the water flow to the fields. He took the opportunity to wash his hands in the cool stream, rubbing the dirt and wood shavings from his fingers. As the pathways moistened and the water seeped into the soil, he watched in silence, ensuring the system functioned properly before shutting it off for the night. Despite the lingering doubt over his use of the day, he knew that tomorrow, the wheelbarrow would prove its worth. The boy placed his tools inside the wheelbarrow, leaving it near the fields before making his way back toward the fire, where Lara would soon announce the meal. He sat down on the ground, absentmindedly repeating in his head the tasks he needed to complete the next day. As he watched the returning clan members, he noticed how animated their conversations had become. They spoke in small groups, sharing stories of the day¡ªunexpected moments, difficult tasks, and accomplishments. The village had changed since they arrived. Athan remembered the first years of his life when each night was filled with silence, when everyone feared making too much noise in case they attracted predators. He recalled the hunger-filled days when they had found nothing to eat or had been forced to abandon everything to flee from danger. Those days felt like a distant past compared to now. The contrast was striking¡ªlike night and day. Seeing the clan thriving in this new life brought him a sense of satisfaction. He smiled as he observed them, feeling a quiet happiness settle within him. His earlier frustration about losing a day''s work faded away. Lara''s voice rang out, calling everyone to eat. Athan stood and joined the line, waiting for his turn. When Lara handed him his bowl, she gave him a bright, unexpected smile. Caught off guard, the boy blinked in surprise, momentarily blinded by the sudden warmth of her expression. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Unsure how to react, he offered a quick, awkward smile in return, feeling a bit uneasy at the sudden shift in her attitude. Lara''s expression remained warm, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than usual before she turned back to serve the next person in line. He hesitated, gripping the bowl tightly as he muttered a quiet thank you, noting how the rich aroma of the stew filled his senses. Still confused, he slowly stepped away, glancing back at her briefly, half-expecting another glance or reaction. But she had already moved on, focused on her task. Retreating to a spot near the fire, he sat down with a small frown, stirring his stew absentmindedly. The unexpected change unsettled him. He replayed the moment in his head, trying to make sense of it. Had he done something different? Had she? Taking a bite, he let the warmth of the food settle in, yet his thoughts remained clouded. His gaze flickered toward Lara once more, but she was busy serving others, her expression unreadable. He tried to recall every detail of their interaction¡ªhad she always smiled at him like that? No, she had always been reserved, avoiding his eyes, keeping her distance. But today, she had been different. He stirred his stew absently, his mind racing through possibilities. Had something happened while he was working? Had she spoken to someone about him? Or had he done something that had unknowingly changed the way she saw him? The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled in a way he couldn''t quite place. Glancing around the fire, he noticed that no one else seemed to pay it any mind. The clan continued their conversations as usual, laughing, eating, and sharing stories about their day. Whatever shift had occurred between him and Lara, it was something only he had noticed. He exhaled softly, pushing his thoughts aside for the moment. He would figure it out eventually. For now, all he could do was wait and see if this change would last¡ªor if it had even meant anything at all. ------------- Lara had spent much of the night and the following day reflecting on her conversation with Rael. Until now, she had never felt any particular interest in the men of the tribe. None of them had ever stood out to her. They were strong, capable hunters, but they all followed the same patterns, lived the same way, and made the same choices as those before them. Their actions were predictable, their ambitions small, confined to survival. None had ever caught her attention¡ªuntil Athan. He was different. He didn''t just survive; he changed things. He saw problems where others saw the way things had always been, and then he created solutions no one else had considered. He questioned things that others accepted without thought. That made him stand apart from the rest. That made her watch him. But there was a problem. Athan was not yet a man. He was still growing, still learning. And though he was young, there was no doubt in her mind that he would one day lead. Rael''s words from the night before echoed in her mind: Athan does not think of women. He thinks of the tribe. A leader''s path was dangerous. Those who stood at the front always risked the most. She had seen it before¡ªmen who led were often the first to fall. That was why she had never considered choosing a mate before. Any man worth following was also a man doomed to hardship. But when she thought of Athan, something was different. She felt drawn to him, not just because of his mind, but because of what he represented¡ªa future that could be different. Athan was not reckless. He was not like the other men who rushed into danger with nothing but their strength and instincts. He was careful. He planned. He found ways to make things safer, more efficient, more lasting. And in doing so, he was changing not only how they lived, but what was possible for their future. Perhaps, just perhaps, his changes could shift the path that all leaders before him had walked. She thought about what that meant. He was still a boy, yes, but he would not remain one forever. He would grow into a man, and when he did, he would shape the tribe in ways they had never seen before. And she would be there to see it. To witness his growth. To ensure that no one would stand in his way. Her fingers curled slightly at the thought. She had never wanted to tie herself to any man before. But Athan was not just any man¡ªhe was something more. He would change everything. And until he was ready, she would watch him. She would defend him. And when the time came, she would stand at his side.. That was what she thought when the boy stood in front of her, waiting for his meal. In her mind, she told herself, I need to do my part to the best of my ability so that he can continue doing what he does best, without worrying about my side of the task. The realization filled her with a quiet sense of pride. As her eyes met his, she allowed herself a small smile¡ªone she hadn''t even intended. It was a simple moment, but in that instant, she felt something shift within her. A silent acknowledgment, a wordless promise to herself that she would support him, not just because she admired him, but because she believed in what he would become. She turned back to her work, focusing on her task with newfound determination, unaware of the subtle effect her smile had just had on the boy standing before her. Unknowingly, she had disturbed him in a way he wasn''t prepared for, leaving him puzzled by the sudden warmth in her gaze. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª- The next morning, Athan woke up early, preparing himself for another day of work. He made his way to the waterfall and knelt by the basin, cupping the cold water in his hands before splashing it over his face. The sudden chill chased away the last remnants of sleep, leaving him refreshed and alert. He took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp morning air before straightening up and making his way toward his newest tool¡ªthe wheelbarrow he had built the previous day. Excited to test it properly, he took the new tool and walked past the fields, glancing at the soil as he moved. Pressing his fingers into the earth, he noted that the moisture was still sufficient. Satisfied that no additional watering was needed, he continued toward the cliffside, where loose stones were abundant. This was the perfect opportunity to see just how useful his invention would be. Reaching the rocky area near the cliff, Athan selected several medium-sized stones and carefully loaded them into the wheelbarrow. He grasped the handles firmly and pushed forward, adjusting his balance as the weight shifted. The wheel dug slightly into the softer ground at first, but with steady effort, he maneuvered it toward the fields, testing its efficiency with each step.The wooden structure groaned slightly under the weight, the sound of creaking wood and the faint squeak of the wooden wheel echoing in the quiet morning. When he reached the field, he carefully tipped the wheelbarrow forward, allowing the stones to slide into place along the pathway. The process was smoother than expected, despite the occasional strain from the wooden joints. He repeated the process multiple times, carrying more stones from the cliffside to the field. What would have taken an entire day of exhausting back-and-forth trips was now accomplished in just two hours. The realization filled him with pride¡ªhis creation had saved him valuable time and effort. After ensuring each stone was properly positioned, he turned his attention to the next task. With a sense of renewed energy, he moved to the next section of the field, rolling up his sleeves before setting to work on clearing weeds and uprooting old stumps. The wheelbarrow had already proven its worth, and now, he was ready to push forward with the rest of the day''s labor. Having not forgot his idea of a notebook, Athan took advantage of the time while the stumps burned to begin crafting several sheets of paper from the bark of the trees that had been cut down. He carefully peeled and flattened the bark, ensuring it was smooth enough to write on before setting it aside to dry slightly. Once satisfied with his materials, he made his way to Nat and requested a length of sturdy rope. Using the rope, he folded the sheets in half and punched several small holes along the edges, threading the rope through to bind them together. Once secure, he trimmed the excess bark to give the notebook a more uniform shape, making it easier to handle. The result was a medium-sized notebook¡ªrough, but functional. Opening it to the first page, he dipped his handmade pen into his ink and began documenting the first seeds planted on day one in parcel number one. Since he had no proper names for the different seeds yet, he sketched symbols resembling each seed''s shape, ensuring he would recognize them later. Each page represented a separate parcel, where he planned to record every detail about what was planted and any changes he observed over time. For now, ten parcels had been seeded, and he carefully noted all relevant details. He recorded the date of planting, the approximate spacing between each seed, and the conditions of the soil at the time. He noted observations about the weather as well, writing down whether it had rained recently or if the soil had dried faster than expected or remained wet without reason. Additionally, he left space to document future growth stages, planning to track which seeds sprouted first and how long each took to reach maturity. To the side of each page, he also included small marks indicating whether any of the plants showed signs of weakness or pests. As the stumps continued to burn, he moved between tending the fire and writing in his notebook, ensuring he didn''t miss any crucial information. He knew that this record would be vital not just for himself but for the tribe''s future, helping them understand what crops grew best in their new land. Even though they could not read yet, he remained confident that his work would become essential over time, paving the way for knowledge to be passed down and improved upon by future generations. Once he had finished recording everything he could for the moment, he turned his attention back to the fields. With no more notes to take, he set the notebook aside in a safe place and focused on clearing two additional parcels. Feeling the strain of the morning''s work, he decided to take a break and check on the progress of the wall and the trench¡ªsomething he had not done in some time now. Arriving at the site, Athan was surprised to see that the trench had been completed. The group who had been digging had stopped about a meter away from the river, clearly hesitant to let the water rush into the trench unchecked. Now with their task finished, they had turned their attention to assisting the two men working on the wall. They stripped the bark and branches from the felled trees, preparing them for construction. Once the logs were positioned upright in the trench, the women secured them tightly in place, ensuring the structure remained stable. The work was progressing smoothly, and already, half of the wall stood tall, forming a solid barrier. Excited, Athan hurried back to his bedding, retrieved the village plan, and rushed back to the construction site. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he observed the progress, but as he analyzed the layout, he quickly noticed a problem¡ªno one had planned for a gate. Without an entrance, once the wall was complete, there would be no way in or out. Taking a careful look at the terrain, Athan considered the best location for the gate. After scanning the area, he made his decision. Selecting a spot that would be easy to defend, he placed two large stones on the ground, marking where the entrance would be. His plan was to construct two wooden doors that would swing inward, making it more difficult for intruders to force them open once locked and even piled with rock. Athan called his father over, waving a hand toward the stones he had placed on the ground. "Here. This will be the entrance," he explained, pointing at the marked space. "If we close off the entire wall, there will be no way in or out without tearing it down." His father frowned slightly, glancing at the half-built structure. "You right... . But... how make strong? Hole in wall, danger." Athan nodded, already anticipating the concern. "We''ll make a set of wooden doors. They''ll swing inward, so if someone tries to break in, they won''t be able to push them open easily. We can also pile stones against them from the inside if needed." His father scratched his chin, his brow furrowing in confusion. "That... work. But... what this? Why leave hole? Wall must strong, must close." He pointed at the marked space, his expression tense, as if the idea of intentionally leaving an opening went against everything he understood about protection. "No hole. Bad. Danger come in." "We need strong wood," Athan replied, choosing his words carefully so his father could understand. "Same logs as wall. Cut, make big wood, like... barrier. Thick, strong. Not easy to break." His father narrowed his eyes, still uncertain. "Wall close. No hole." Athan shook his head. "Not hole. Block it with wood. Make it open and close. When danger, we shut it. Put rock behind if need." His father scratched his head, glancing back at the wall, then at Athan. "Like... tree fallen in front?" Athan nodded, seizing the comparison. "Yes! Like fallen tree. But we control it. Move when we want." His father grunted, considering. "Need strong. No break." "I make strong," Athan assured him. "Wood thick. Bars behind. Will hold." His father''s frown deepened, his gaze lingering on the marked space. After a long pause, he gave a slow nod. "Alright... Leave open. Wall first. Then... big wood? Like tree? We do after." Athan smiled, relieved. "Yes. We''ll do it after." The boy exhaled in relief, pleased that his father had accepted the plan. Watching his father return to work, he felt a sense of purpose. Chapter 15 - Whispers in the Night Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 25, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ----------------------- Satisfied with his discussion, Athan returned to the fields after placing his village plan safely in his bedding. As he arrived, his eyes narrowed at an unsettling sight¡ªthree large black birds, their feathers glossy under the sunlight, were digging aggressively into the soil, their sharp beaks tearing at the freshly planted seeds. Small clumps of dirt scattered with each movement, the disturbance leaving clear marks on the otherwise carefully maintained plots. The birds worked quickly, their talons scratching at the earth as they greedily feasted, completely unaware of Athan''s presence. His jaw tightened as he watched, frustration bubbling inside him at the blatant destruction of his hard work. Anger flared within him. These birds weren''t just scavenging; they were stealing from the tribe''s future. His hand instinctively reached for the slingshot tucked into his fur wrap¡ªan item he never went anywhere without. Crouching slightly, he picked up a smooth stone from the ground, placed it into the sling, and took aim at one of the birds. With a deep breath, he pulled back the leather strap and released. The stone whistled through the air, cutting straight toward the flock. However, instead of hitting his intended target, it struck a different bird with a loud thud. The impact sent the creature screeching, flapping its wings wildly, while the other two took off into the sky in alarm. The injured bird let out a pained cry, struggling to lift itself. Its wings flailed, but one remained oddly limp¡ªbroken from the force of the strike. Athan clenched his jaw. In normal circumstances, he would have simply chased them off. But this wasn''t just an inconvenience¡ªthis was an attack on his crops, on the tribe''s survival. This was personal. Gripping a sturdy stick, he stepped forward and swiftly put the suffering bird out of its misery. He exhaled slowly, shaking off the tension as he turned to inspect the damage. His eyes fell upon parcel number five, where the disturbed soil revealed several missing seeds. Fury simmered in his chest. He had worked too hard for this. Clenching his fists, he grabbed the dead bird by its leg and dragged it toward the fire, his movements firm with purpose. As he entered the camp, he caught the curious glances of the women working on making ropes, their hands skillfully twisting fibers together. Ok remained focused on crafting footwear for the tribe, meticulously shaping pieces of leather and sinew. Nearby, Lara tended to the fire, occasionally stirring the embers with a long stick to keep the flames steady. Their gazes lingered on him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and silent questioning. He ignored their unspoken inquiries and strode purposefully toward his bedding. Reaching down, he pulled out a rough sack made from woven plant fibers¡ªone he had set aside specifically for collecting bird feathers. His fingers brushed over its coarse surface as he exhaled, steadying his thoughts before sitting down to begin his next task. Sitting down near the fire, he got to work. He wouldn''t let anything go to waste. As he plucked the bird, his mind already wandered to future possibilities¡ªpillows. One day, when they built proper houses, these feathers could be used to make soft bedding. It was a distant thought, but a comforting one nonetheless. Once he finished plucking, he examined the pile of soft black feathers he had gathered, setting them aside in the woven sack for later use. The bird, now bare, looked much smaller without its plumage. He ran his fingers over its body, ensuring that no feathers remained before standing up and carrying it over to Lara. She glanced at him as he approached, a silent understanding passing between them. Without hesitation, she took the bird and moved toward the fire, preparing to gut and cook it. Athan lingered for a moment, watching as she deftly worked, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. The scent of burning wood and faint traces of roasted meat would soon begin filling the air, the idea making his stomach rumble slightly, but he pushed the hunger aside. Without another word, he turned and made his way back toward the fields. His work was far from over, and the sight of the damaged parcel still weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to find a way to protect the crops¡ªthis could not happen again. Using thick branches and tall wild grasses, Athan carefully constructed a scarecrow. He tied the frame together with sturdy rope, ensuring that the structure held firm despite the wind. He layered the grasses over the wooden frame, creating the rough shape of a human figure to make it more intimidating to any approaching birds. He even added extra bundles at the arms to give them a wider reach, hoping that the movement of the wind through the grasses would create enough motion to scare off unwanted pests. Taking a step back, he examined his work. It wasn''t perfect, but it stood tall, its uneven form swaying slightly in the breeze. Satisfied, he hoisted it up and secured it firmly into the ground near parcel number five, making sure it was visible from all angles of the field. Hopefully, this would be enough to keep the scavengers at bay. Turning back, Athan sighed as he assessed the state of parcel number five. The soil was uneven, riddled with tiny claw marks and deep pecking holes where the birds had dug in, scattering dirt and displacing the carefully planted seeds. He crouched down, running his fingers through the disturbed earth, feeling the absence of the missing seeds that were now lost. With a slow, methodical movement, he began smoothing the soil back into place, pressing it firmly as if to erase the damage left behind. But he knew the truth¡ªthere was no replacing what had been taken, at least for now. His thoughts churned as he studied the parcel, trying to gauge if the remaining seeds would be enough. Had the birds only taken the surface ones, or had they managed to dig deeper? Would what was left be sufficient for a full harvest of that specific fruit? He exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration gnawing at him. There was no way to tell until the plants began sprouting. All he could do now was hope that the remaining seeds would take root and flourish, compensating for what had been stolen. Reaching for his notebook, he carefully recorded the incident, noting how the birds had targeted the seeds and the specific parcel affected. He also made a mental note to monitor whether the scarecrow would be effective in the coming days or if he would need to find an additional way to protect the crops. After ensuring the field was as stable as he could manage, he turned his focus to expanding their cultivated land. Picking up his tools, he moved to an untouched section of land, surveying the overgrown vegetation and tangled roots before him. The soil here was rough, still hardened in places from years of neglect. He started by uprooting the largest obstacles first, gripping thick, stubborn roots and pulling with all his strength. Some came loose easily, while others fought against him, forcing him to use his crude hatchet to chop through their resistance. Sweat beaded along his brow as he worked, his muscles burning from the repetitive effort, but he welcomed the strain¡ªit kept his mind focused, pushing aside the frustration that still lingered over the lost seeds. As he cleared more space, he paused occasionally to gather stones from the soil, setting them aside for potential use. He made mental notes of the land''s condition, noticing which sections felt too compact and which held moisture well. The more he understood the terrain, the better he could plan future planting. Time passed unnoticed as he worked tirelessly under the sun, the rhythmic motions of digging, pulling, and cutting becoming second nature. By the time he finally straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, he had cleared two more parcels, opening more land for future crops. His arms ached, his fingers raw from gripping his tools, but as he surveyed his work, a deep sense of accomplishment settled within him. The fields were growing, little by little. And so was their prospect future. ----------- As night fell, Athan activated the watering system, watching as the water trickled through the channels, weaving through the pathways he had carefully constructed. The soil darkened as it absorbed the moisture, ensuring that the crops would have enough hydration to last through the night. Satisfied with the flow, he moved toward the basin near the waterfall, kneeling down to wash away the grime of the day''s labor. He cupped his hands, letting the cool water splash against his face before rubbing his fingers vigorously against his palms, scrubbing away the dirt lodged in his skin. The sensation was refreshing, the chill soothing against his tired muscles. As he ran his fingers through his damp hair, he took a moment to appreciate the quiet hum of the water around him, its constant movement a contrast to his own exhausted body. He sat there for a few moments, his eyes trailing over the darkening fields, watching as the last traces of sunlight cast long shadows across the land. He had worked hard today¡ªclearing two new parcels in the morning, battling the persistent birds that had threatened the crops, implementing a scarecrow to protect the fields, and tending to another section in the afternoon. To finish the day, he had carefully shaped a new water pathway to ensure the freshly tilled soil would receive the hydration it needed. The weight of the day''s labor pressed against his tired muscles, but he knew that the work was far from over. There was always more to do, more to build, more to protect. Exhaling slowly, he let his gaze linger on the land he was shaping, feeling a deep sense of responsibility settle in his chest. The tribe depended on these efforts, and failure was not an option. With a final glance at the darkened sky, he reached over and shut off the water system, before preparing to head back to the fire for the evening meal. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Yet, even as he sat down near the fire, his mind remained restless. The earlier encounter with the birds still gnawed at him. His lack of accuracy had been a problem. Worse, the thought occurred to him that if he misfired in the wrong direction, he could accidentally hit someone in the tribe. A misplaced shot could cause serious harm, and that was a risk he couldn''t afford. The realization sent a wave of unease through him. His skill with the slingshot wasn''t just about defending the fields¡ªit was about control, precision, and responsibility. Determined to improve, he made a decision. Picking up a collection of smooth stones, he walked a short distance from the fire, selecting a sturdy tree trunk as his target. Taking a deep breath, he loaded his slingshot¡ªcrafted from a curved wooden frame and reinforced with strong tendon¡ªpulling back the sinew strap before releasing. The stone flew, missing its mark slightly, hitting the bark but not where he had intended. Undeterred, he reloaded and fired again. And again. He kept at it, adjusting his aim, analyzing each shot. The steady rhythm of launching stones should became second nature, his focus sharpening with each attempt. He resolved to make this a habit¡ªa nightly routine. Every evening, before his meal, he would train his aim until the day came when hitting his target would be effortless. He could not afford mistakes when it came to protecting what he had built. A little later, after the meal had been eaten, with the extra bird adding to the evening''s feast, Ok surprised the clan by slowly rising to his feet. Murmurs rippled through the gathered members as he took a few careful steps, testing his balance. His injury, which had kept him immobile for days, had finally healed enough for him to move without visible strain. The sight was met with quiet astonishment, a few people pausing in their tasks to observe. Ok himself seemed slightly hesitant at first, rolling his foot against the ground, but as he steadied himself, a small, satisfied grunt escaped him. The days of resting had paid off¡ªthe wound had sealed properly, and though he would still need time before returning to full strength, this was a promising sign. Furthermore, now that he would be wearing the shoes he had crafted for all the members of the group, his injury should not worsen, as long as he avoided excessive strain. His wives, Fi and Medi, were visibly relieved by this development. The past days had been filled with worry, fearing that the wound might become infected or that complications could arise, endangering his recovery. Seeing him stand and take a few steps reassured them greatly. With gratitude, the two women turned to Rael, offering her their sincere thanks for tending to Ok''s injury. As the matriarch of the clan, it was her duty to ensure the well-being of everyone, and seeing her last patient finally on the mend filled her with quiet satisfaction. Without her care, the situation could have taken a far worse turn, and though she did not seek recognition, the relief in Fi and Medi''s eyes reassured her that her efforts had not been in vain. Rael, ever composed, gave them a small nod before shifting her gaze back to the fire, mentally checking off another task completed in her never-ending duty to keep the clan healthy. Despite this progress, they all knew Ok would still need time before resuming his full responsibilities, but for now, this small victory was worth acknowledging. Every member of the clan was essential in ensuring that their village would continue to grow and prosper. Satisfied, Athan stepped away from the group, seeking a quiet moment for himself. He wandered a short distance until he found a comfortable patch of grass, stretching out beneath the open sky. The stars shimmered above him, scattered like glowing embers in the vast darkness. The sight was calming, a stark contrast to the relentless work of the day. As he lay there, his thoughts drifted beyond the village, beyond the struggles of survival, back to something distant¡ªsomething almost forgotten. A melody, soft and lingering, surfaced in his mind. The echoes of a song from his past life, something familiar yet foreign in this world. Without thinking, he parted his lips and began to hum, his voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, the tune took shape, his quiet singing blending with the faint rustling of the wind. "Far beyond the hills so wide, Where shadows creep and rivers glide, A land untamed, both dark and vast, Where few return, and none would last. Beneath the stars, our fires burn, Through silent vale, we march and yearn, To carve a home, to claim the stone, To make this wild land our own. The winds may howl, the storms may break, Yet steel and will shall never shake, For hearts are strong, our steps are bold, Through fire and frost, through dust and gold. So heed the call, ye wandering souls, Through forest deep and mountain knolls, The path is long, yet onward roam, For through the vale, we''ll find our home." For a brief moment, the weight of responsibility faded, and he allowed himself to be lost in the simple comfort of music, a connection to a world that no longer existed, yet still lived within him. The melody drifted softly through the air, blending with the night breeze, carrying an unfamiliar yet soothing rhythm across the quiet camp. Then, a sudden realization struck him¡ªhe could no longer hear the usual background noises of the camp. No quiet murmurs, no rustling of movement. The absence of sound made his skin prickle with unease. Slowly, he turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat. They were all there. Every single member of the clan had gathered behind him, standing in silence, their eyes fixed on him. Some bore expressions of curiosity, others seemed mesmerized, as if entranced by the melody. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on their faces, giving the moment an almost surreal feel. Heat rushed to Athan''s face as embarrassment struck him like a wave. He hadn''t even realized they had been listening. He immediately averted his gaze, his fingers curling into the grass beneath him. He wished he could disappear, to sink into the earth itself. Lara stepped forward slightly, her expression unreadable at first. Then, with a quiet, almost hesitant voice, she said, "You talk... beautiful. Can again?" Her eyes held a mix of wonder and curiosity, as if she was experiencing something entirely new. The way the melody had woven through the night air, filling the silence with something both foreign and mesmerizing, had clearly touched her in a way she couldn''t quite explain. She wasn''t the only one¡ªothers in the group nodded slightly, their gazes expectant, waiting to hear more. Still embarrassed, the boy hesitated for a moment before giving in to their silent request. At first, he whistled the melody softly, using the familiar tune to steady his nerves and ease the discomfort bubbling inside him. The gentle notes carried through the night air, blending with the crackling of the fire and the whisper of the wind. As he gained confidence, the tension in his shoulders slowly faded. Taking a deep breath, he let his voice rise, this time singing the words louder and with more certainty than before. The unfamiliar lyrics, crafted from memory and instinct, filled the quiet space, weaving through the darkness like a distant echo of a forgotten time. ---------- The clan sat around the fire, talking and laughing as they ate their fill¡ªa stark contrast to the days when they spent hours in the forest, desperately searching for their next meal. The warmth of the fire flickered against their faces, and for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of ease, of comfort, in the air. Then, Wade''s ears perked up. A sound. Something unfamiliar. He immediately lifted his hand, motioning for silence. "Quiet," he said in their simple language, his voice firm but low. The chatter around the fire ceased instantly, replaced by a tense stillness as the clan instinctively listened, their senses sharp, wary of any lurking danger. What they heard was not the rustling of an approaching predator, nor the breaking of twigs under an intruder''s foot. Instead, a strange, rising and falling tone filled the air¡ªsoft yet deliberate, unlike anything they had heard before. Their curiosity outweighed their fear as they carefully moved toward the source of the sound, their steps hushed, their eyes scanning the darkness ahead. What they found was not a threat, but Athan. The boy was seated in the grass, his lips moving, his voice weaving through the cool night air. The melody he created with his mouth rose and fell, carrying an unfamiliar rhythm. Then, he began to form words, letting his voice dance with the tune. The clan stood in silent awe, their breath caught in their throats. Never before had they heard such a thing. They did not understand every word he sang, but the sounds fit together, flowing naturally, as if the language of the song carried its own meaning beyond what their minds could grasp. Something stirred within them¡ªa feeling foreign yet deeply moving. Their hearts pounded, their chests tightening as emotions they had never known took root. It was as if the song carried a weight, a power beyond simple speech. It made them feel. As the final note faded, the clearing fell silent once more. The fire crackled, the wind whispered through the trees, but no one spoke. Then, Athan turned and saw them. His eyes widened in shock, his face flushing red as realization dawned upon him. He had not been alone. They had heard everything. Lara, visibly moved by emotions she couldn''t quite name, stepped forward hesitantly. Her gaze lingered on Athan, her eyes reflecting a mixture of wonder and longing. Then, in a quiet, almost hesitant voice, she said, "You talk... beautiful. Can again?" Her words were slow, deliberate, as if she feared breaking the fragile magic of the moment. She wasn''t alone in her sentiment. The rest of the group, still captivated by the strange and stirring experience of song, nodded in agreement. Some murmured softly among themselves, exchanging glances of curiosity and awe. This was something new, something unknown, and yet it resonated with them in a way they didn''t understand. They wanted to hear it again, to hold onto the feeling it had awakened within them. The boy, visibly nervous, hesitated for a moment before parting his lips, allowing the same haunting melody that had first captured their attention to emerge once more. The sound wove through the night, forming its own rhythm, delicate yet deliberate. Slowly, Athan began to sing again, his voice steady, each word rising and falling in a cadence that felt both natural and foreign to the listeners. The song carried a strange power¡ªone that seemed to reach beyond mere sound and into something deeper. The gathered clan members felt it vibrate through their chests, stirring something primal within them. Their stomachs tensed, their skin prickled with an unfamiliar sensation, as if the very resonance of Athan''s voice was embedding itself into their very being. Though they did not understand all the words, the feeling behind them was undeniable. It was as though the song itself spoke a language beyond speech, one that resonated with something buried deep inside them, something they had never known but could suddenly feel. As the final note of the song faded into the night, Athan exhaled softly, lowering his gaze. Without a word, he stepped past the gathered clan members and returned to the fire, his mind still lingering on the strange mix of emotions stirred by the moment. Sitting down, he reached for his knife and picked up a large, smooth piece of wood. With careful precision, he began scraping away the rough outer bark, ensuring the surface beneath was clean. Once satisfied, he dipped the tip of his on of his tool into a small container of black water¡ªa mixture he had made for marking¡ªand began to etch symbols into the wood, his fingers moving with purpose. The group watched in silent curiosity as he worked, the firelight casting long shadows across his focused expression. He carved each mark carefully, his strokes deliberate. By the time he finished, he sat back and examined his work before standing up and holding the wooden piece before him. "Here," he said, his voice steady but quiet. "I have put this song on this wood. Now I can sing it again." Lara, intrigued, stepped closer, her head tilting slightly. "What... song?" she asked, her brows furrowed as she tried to grasp what he meant. Her eyes searched his, seeking understanding. Athan hesitated before explaining. "What I did... is called singing. The sounds I made with my mouth, that is a song. And what I did here¡ª" he gestured toward the carved wood "¡ªis called writing. It lets me remember things from the past... so I won''t forget in the future." A few murmurs rippled through the group as they exchanged glances, struggling to comprehend the concept. Singing was new, but the idea of preserving words in marks was even more foreign. Lara reached out tentatively, her fingers hovering over the wooden piece as she studied the strange markings, her curiosity deepening. Noticing Lara''s curiosity, Athan smiled at her and said, "If you want to learn, I can show you. Same as when you made fire." His voice was calm, encouraging, offering the same patient guidance he had given before. Lara''s eyes brightened with excitement. She eagerly nodded, stepping closer, her hands hovering near the carved wood as if eager to understand how the strange markings worked. Learning fire had changed the way the clan lived¡ªperhaps this would be the same. Before she could speak, Rael approached as well. The matriarch, who had been observing the exchange with silent intrigue, placed a hand on her hip and said, "Me too, son." Her voice was firm yet filled with warmth. As the one responsible for preserving the health and knowledge of the tribe, she saw value in this new skill. If writing could hold knowledge, then it could be an essential tool for their survival. Athan nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright, we start tomorrow after the meal then." His voice carried a quiet excitement, aware that this could be a turning point for the tribe. Teaching them fire had changed their way of living¡ªperhaps writing and song could do the same. He glanced at Lara and Rael, noting the anticipation in their eyes, and felt a renewed sense of purpose settle in his chest. Chapter 16 - Bound by a Silent Promise Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 28, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ---------------------------- The next morning, as was his custom, Athan woke with the rising sun, just as the rest of the tribe did. Stretching his limbs, he made his way to the waterfall, kneeling at the basin to splash the cool water onto his face. The chill jolted him fully awake, shaking off the last remnants of sleep. As droplets dripped from his chin, he took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp morning air before turning his attention to the fields. As he approached, he noticed that his scarecrow had drawn the interest of his father, Wade, along with a few other tribe members. They stood near the structure, observing it with curiosity, their expressions puzzled. Wade turned to Athan, his brow furrowed. ¡°What that?¡± Athan stepped forward, keeping his words simple. ¡°Scares birds. They see, think it person. They stay away.¡± Wade¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied the scarecrow. ¡°Birds¡­ not smart?¡± Athan shook his head. ¡°Not like us. They just see shape, feel danger, go away.¡± Wade grunted, scratching his chin. He looked at the scarecrow again, then at the field. ¡°Good. Protect food.¡± Athan nodded. ¡°Yes. Seeds grow better with no birds.¡± Wade stood silent for a moment, then gave a small nod of understanding. Without another word, he turned and walked away, the others following as they resumed their work on the wall. Athan watched them go for a moment before shifting his focus back to the fields. Kneeling down, he ran his fingers through the soil, feeling its texture. The earth was still damp from the previous watering, meaning he wouldn''t need to activate the irrigation system this morning. That left him with another task to complete. His gaze moved to the three empty parcels he had cleared the previous day. Walking toward them, he reached into his supply of seeds, inspecting what he had left. A sigh escaped him¡ªonly two types of seeds remained. The others had already been planted across the various parcels. Without hesitation, he set to work, carefully sowing the remaining two types into the first two parcels, making sure to space them properly and cover them with soil. As he finished, his attention shifted to the last, untouched plot of land. He frowned slightly, contemplating what to do with it. With no more seed varieties available, he needed to think of another use for the space. His mind worked through possibilities as he stood there, hands resting on his knees, the morning sun casting long shadows over the freshly turned soil. Not having any new ideas, he decided that it could wait. Instead, his thoughts turned to the next important task at hand¡ªteaching his mother and Lara how to write. The boy resolved to spend the rest of the day preparing everything they would need for the lesson. Before continuing, he made sure to write down the changes in his notebook regarding the field, carefully noting the soil conditions and the progress of the crops. First, he focused on crafting proper materials. He gathered smooth bark and began refining it, scraping and pressing it until it was flat enough to serve as writing surfaces. For the ink, he remade the same mixture he had used before¡ªgrinding charcoal into fine powder using his mortar and pestle, then slowly adding water to create a thick, dark liquid. He carefully poured the fresh ink into two newly crafted containers, ensuring they were well-sealed to prevent drying. Each step was done with precision, knowing that a good supply of ink would be essential for continued practice. For the pens, he selected wooden sticks that fit comfortably in the hand, ensuring they were smooth and easy to grip. At the tip of each, he carefully inserted a sharpened fish bone, securing it tightly so that it could be dipped into the ink and used for writing. The fine, rigid point of the bone would allow for precise markings, making the writing process more efficient. He tested each tool meticulously, ensuring the ink flowed well from the tip without blotting or smudging. By the time the sun was beginning to lower, everything was ready¡ªfresh ink, two new well-sealed containers to store it, sturdy writing instruments reinforced with fish bone tips, and smooth bark sheets for practice. His first two students would each have their own set, crafted with the same care and attention as his own. Using one of the larger sheets of bark paper, he carefully traced the alphabet, ensuring each symbol was clearly formed. He planned to have his mother and Lara copy the symbols by drawing them in the dirt near the fire, where they could practice repeatedly without wasting materials. This method would allow them to familiarize themselves with each shape, gradually memorizing them through repetition. He intended for them to continue until they could recall and replicate the symbols from memory, ensuring a solid foundation before moving on to more complex writing exercises. The boy stood up from the ground, dusting himself off before repositioning himself in front of the sturdy tree trunk. Taking a deep breath, he gripped his slingshot tightly, determined to continue his training. This was becoming a habit, one he knew he needed if he was ever going to improve his aim. Selecting a smooth, well-weighted stone from his small collection, he placed it into the leather pouch, pulling back the tendon string as he narrowed his focus on the target. The muscles in his arm tensed as he adjusted his angle, keeping his breath steady before releasing. The stone flew through the air, whistling slightly before striking the bark¡ªnot exactly where he had aimed. He frowned slightly but didn''t let the disappointment settle. Instead, he reached for another stone and repeated the process. Each shot carried a lesson. He adjusted his grip, his stance, the tension in his pull. He analyzed how each stone traveled, how the weight affected the arc, and how even the smallest shift in his fingers altered the direction. He was determined. If he was going to use this as a means of protection or hunting in the future, he had to become proficient. As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the field, Athan continued his routine, his mind fully absorbed in the rhythm of practice and precision. As Lara announced that the meal was ready, Athan joined the line with the others. Dinner, as usual, was a hearty stew, its rich aroma wafting through the camp. When he took his first bite, he found the flavor to be particularly well-balanced, the combination of herbs and meat blending perfectly. Turning to Lara with a small smile, he complimented her. "Good. Tastes nice." Lara¡¯s eyes lit up slightly, a quiet pride showing on her face. "Used more herbs. Meat cook slow." Athan nodded. "Can tell. Makes stew better." Lara didn¡¯t say much more, but the soft smile on her lips spoke for her. Cooking for the tribe was a big task, but knowing her work was noticed made it feel worth it. Nearby, Wade, much like last time, was about to make a comment. His mouth opened, a smirk forming on his face. However, before he could utter a single word, Rael was faster. With practiced ease, she delivered a sharp jab to his side with her small fist¡ªquick, precise, efficient. A short, pained yelp escaped Wade as he stumbled slightly, shooting her a look of mild betrayal. ¡°Ow.¡± Rael, unbothered, kept eating. Her neutral expression made it clear¡ªwhatever he was about to say, she didn¡¯t want to hear it. Wade huffed but wisely chose to remain silent, rubbing his side as he focused on his meal. The rest of the tribe, having witnessed the exchange, smirked knowingly but said nothing, letting the moment pass as they continued eating. After the meal, Rael and Lara sat in front of Athan, who handed each of them a straight branch to use for practice. The rest of the clan sat a little farther away, but some, driven by curiosity, moved closer to listen. To begin, Athan unrolled a large piece of bark where he had carefully inscribed the alphabet. Holding it up for them to see, he explained, "These are letters. Each one is important for writing. To start, we will say them out loud together. This is ''A''..." He slowly went through the alphabet, enunciating each letter clearly and waiting for them to repeat after him. Rael and Lara followed along, their voices hesitant at first but growing more confident with each repetition. Once they were familiar with the sounds, Athan instructed them to trace the symbols into the sand in front of the fire, using their sticks as makeshift writing tools. "We will do this every evening until you know the symbols by heart," he said patiently. He carefully guided them through the process, correcting their strokes when needed and encouraging them to say each letter aloud as they wrote it. His patience never wavered, knowing that repetition was the key to mastering something new. As the night stretched on, the flickering firelight illuminated their determined expressions, marking the beginning of something new¡ªwritten knowledge passed down through careful instruction. --------- Rael and Lara exchanged glances from time to time, gradually grasping that this was the foundation of writing, just as Athan had told them. However, a lingering question gnawed at both women¡ªhow did the boy know this? No one had ever taught him how to write, so how was he able to teach them? Was he making it up as he went? Their eyes, filled with curiosity and silent questioning, stayed focused on the symbols they traced in the dirt, their hands carefully drawing each one while repeating its name aloud. They followed the strokes, mimicking Athan''s instructions, slowly committing the symbols to memory. Though it was still foreign to them, the more they repeated the letters, the more natural it became. After about an hour of practice, Athan finally decided they had done enough for the night. "That''s enough for today," he said, watching as both women straightened their backs, their fingers slightly dirtied from their writing practice. Lara, still processing everything, glanced at him thoughtfully before her expression shifted. "Sing again, like before?" she asked, her voice tinged with anticipation. Hearing her request, the others in the group perked up, murmuring amongst themselves. The moment the word ''sing'' was spoken, more members of the tribe began to gather, their curiosity reignited as they moved closer, eager to listen once more. The boy, still embarrassed, nodded in agreement but suddenly had an idea. Turning to the men, he gestured for them to follow him a short distance away. Once they were gathered, he explained his plan: he wanted them to follow the melody by making deep humming sounds, using the air expelled from their lungs to create a resonating vibration. He demonstrated by whistling a simple rising and falling tune, encouraging the men to join in by producing a deep "Mmmmmh" sound that mirrored the melody''s flow. At first, their voices were uneven, hesitant, but with each attempt, the sound became richer, their chests vibrating as they synchronized. The rhythmic hum carried through the air, blending with the night''s stillness. Once the men felt confident in their harmony, they returned to the fire where the women were waiting, their eyes filled with curiosity. Athan took his place in front of them, inhaled deeply, and began to whistle just as they had practiced. The men followed, their voices deep and steady, resonating from their chests, forming a foundation of sound that filled the clearing. As the melody took shape, Athan seamlessly transitioned into singing, his voice rising and falling like waves on the ocean, carrying the harmony forward. The men, now fully immersed, followed his lead, their voices weaving together like the wind through the trees. Their deep hums resonated through their chests, creating a powerful, unified vibration that pulsed in the night air. Each sound, each voice, layered upon the other, forming something raw, something alive. For the first time, they felt truly connected¡ªnot just as a tribe, but as one entity breathing in perfect rhythm. It was no longer just a song¡ªit was a force, a heartbeat of voices that pulled them together in a way words never could. Their bodies instinctively swayed to the cadence, their breaths synchronized as if bound by an invisible thread. Some of the men felt their arms tingle, their skin rising in goosebumps, overwhelmed by the sheer depth of the sensation. Others closed their eyes, letting the sound guide them, feeling a warmth spread through their limbs like the embers of the fire before them. Stolen story; please report. The women, seated in front of them, were equally entranced. A shiver ran down Lara''s spine, her breath caught in her throat as the deep, primal tones of their clansmen''s voices filled the air. The song stirred something deep within them, something they had never felt before¡ªan emotion without name, an unspoken understanding that transcended simple sound. Their hearts beat faster, their fingers curled into the dirt beneath them as they listened, mesmerized by the harmony of their people''s voices woven together into something ancient, something sacred. As the final hum lingered in the air, fading into the crackling fire and the whispering wind, silence stretched between them all, heavy yet full. No one spoke. No one moved. They simply sat, basking in the aftershock of the moment, feeling the connection still humming between them, unbroken and everlasting. Smiling at the success of their song, the boy declared that it was now time to sleep. Gathering his things, he made his way to his bedding, settling in for the night, completely unaware that the song had ignited something behind him. The women, their eyes dark with something new, devoured their men with their gazes. One by one, they stood, silently taking their partners by the hand and leading them away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, far from the watchful eyes of the tribe. The air crackled with an unspoken energy, primal and undeniable. Lara, however, remained where she sat, unmoving, her emerald eyes fixed on Athan as he retreated to his sleeping place. A certainty settled deep within her¡ªthere would be no other for her. She had chosen. He was hers, even if he did not know it yet. Instead of following the others into the night, she remained by the fire, tending to the embers as distant sounds of wild passion resonated through the darkness. The flames flickered, casting shifting shadows, but her mind was steady, her resolve unwavering. She would wait¡ªfor him, for the right time. For now, she watched over the fire, her heart beating in rhythm with the song that still lingered in the air. ----------- The next morning, Athan woke in a good mood, stretching as he sat up. Looking around, he noticed that only Lara was awake, tending to the fire. The rest of the tribe remained in deep slumber, completely still despite the powerful rays of the sun bathing the camp in golden light. Frowning slightly, Athan wondered what was going on. It was unusual for everyone to sleep in so late. Then he reasoned that they had been physically working harder over the past few days¡ªmuch more than before, when their daily routine mostly consisted of walking through the forest in search of food. The strain of construction and farming had taken its toll. Shrugging off the thought, he went about his morning routine. Heading to the fields, he checked the moisture of the soil. Some areas seemed a bit dry, so he activated the irrigation system, watching as the water slowly filled the pathways. While waiting for the channels to distribute the water evenly, he scooped some into his hands and splashed it over his face, the coolness refreshing him fully. Once the watering was done, he closed the system and took a step back, observing the fields. His scarecrow was standing tall, and from what he could tell, it seemed to be doing its job. No fresh disturbances in the soil meant the birds had kept their distance. Satisfied, he made his way back to his bedding and picked up his map before heading toward the wall. As he neared the structure, his eyes widened in astonishment. The speed at which the wall was progressing was beyond what he had expected. They had already completed two sections past the designated door area he had discussed with his father. The realization filled him with excitement. With renewed enthusiasm, he decided it was time to shift his focus. Today, his main task would be planning and constructing the door¡ªit was going to be his project for the day and maybe tomorrow, and he was eager to get started. Inspecting the way they had finished the walls on either side, Athan nodded to himself in satisfaction. Now, he needed to design a door that could open and close without hinges. The method he had in mind was to allow the frame to rotate within a set of wooden sockets positioned at the top and bottom of the doorway. If he carved them properly and fixed them securely, the door would pivot smoothly on these points, allowing it to swing open and shut as needed. Using a sturdy branch to take measurements, he walked over to the pile of logs awaiting processing. He carefully selected one that was straight and strong enough for the structure. Grabbing his wooden mallet and sharpened stakes, he began the laborious process of splitting the log into planks, each about six centimeters thick. His arms strained with each strike, the repetitive motion sending small vibrations through his hands. The sound of wood cracking filled the air as he continued, ensuring each plank was as even as possible. Once he had made several planks, he set them aside and retrieved his hatchet, focusing on refining the edges and ensuring they were uniform. He methodically worked to straighten them, making sure they would fit together seamlessly when assembled into the door. As he worked, he gradually noticed movement around the camp. Members of the clan were finally stirring, some stretching, others rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Despite their groggy appearances, the men seemed particularly cheerful this morning, their expressions relaxed. As they passed Athan, they greeted him warmly, offering smiles and nods of acknowledgment. Even though they still looked like they could use more sleep¡ªand a large breakfast¡ªit was clear that the previous night''s events had left them in high spirits. The boy, happy to be acknowledged, felt a renewed sense of motivation. It seemed like everyone particularly enjoyed the chorus from last night. Perhaps, if they made it a habit to sing together every evening, the group would grow even closer. It was an exciting thought for Athan¡ªmusic could serve as more than just entertainment; it could become a way to strengthen their bonds. The idea lingered in his mind, making him consider exploring music further in the future. With his head full of future projects, Athan refocused on the task at hand¡ªconstructing the door. Taking his knife, he stripped the bark from four logs, ensuring they had the right dimensions to serve as the door''s frame. He carefully positioned the planks alongside the future frame, then began carving precise grooves into the wood. These notches would allow the planks to fit securely into place, forming a solid structure. Once the grooves were finished, he used his bow drill to bore holes into different sections of the frame, ensuring they aligned perfectly. Assembling all the pieces together, he inserted wooden pegs into the pre-made holes, locking the entire door into a single, sturdy block. It was the best he could do for now, given that nails or metal fasteners were beyond their current capabilities. Satisfied with his work, Athan stood back and examined the door. It was solid, well-constructed. He took careful measurements and carried them over to the doorframe in the wall to ensure everything would fit properly. Knowing he needed a second door for the opposite side, he immediately began the process again, crafting a mirror image of the first one. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the boy worked tirelessly, determined to complete both doors before the day was done. As the final piece was hammered into place, he stepped back to inspect his work, wiping the sweat from his brow. The door stood sturdy, just as he had envisioned, and a sense of satisfaction settled over him. Glancing at the sky, he realized that if he wanted enough time to practice with his slingshot before the evening meal, he needed to finish up quickly. Setting the door aside for installation the next day, he hurried toward the fields, his sharp eyes scanning the area. Not a single bird had come today. His scarecrow had done its job well. Nodding in approval, he activated the watering system, watching as the channels filled with water, feeding the soil that would nourish their crops. As the water trickled through the pathways, he scooped a handful and splashed it over his face, letting the coolness refresh him after his long hours of work. A smile tugged at his lips. Every day, he was creating something new¡ªsomething that made their lives better. It gave him a deep sense of purpose, and as he dried his hands, he felt eager to move on to his next task, knowing that each effort brought the tribe one step closer to a stronger future. Before he could proceed with his training, Lara walked up to him, looking disheartened. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, frustration clear in her voice. ¡°Athan¡­ trap broke.¡± She frowned. ¡°Went for fish. Cords got loose. Most swam away. Only big one stayed¡ªtoo big to escape.¡± She sighed, running a hand through her hair. ¡°Tried to fix. Wood too soft now. Water made weak.¡± Athan listened, nodding. He had expected this¡ªthe trap wasn¡¯t meant to last forever. Water had loosened the cords, soaked into the wood, made it weak. ¡°Not your fault,¡± he said simply. ¡°Water does that.¡± Lara kicked a small rock near her foot. ¡°Need new one?¡± Athan exhaled. ¡°Yes. I make better one.¡± Without delay, he set to work, gathering sturdy twigs and fresh cord to reconstruct it. He meticulously shaped the framework, weaving the twigs tightly together, reinforcing them with extra bindings to ensure greater durability. Once the main structure was secure, he blocked the largest opening with a solid piece of bark, ensuring that only the intended entry remained functional. As he worked, he made mental notes on how he could improve future traps¡ªthicker wood, stronger bindings. This one had to be tested carefully, strong enough to withstand the river¡¯s constant push. After a while, Lara called everyone for the meal. As Athan made his way to his father, he pointed at the new trap. ¡°Can you set it for the night?¡± Wade gave it a quick glance before nodding. ¡°Yes.¡± Taking the newly crafted trap, he headed toward the river to secure it before the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. With that settled, Athan turned back to the food line, collecting two bowls before approaching Lara. He handed one to her. ¡°Trap¡¯s done. Father¡¯s setting it now.¡± Lara¡¯s eyes lit up with relief. ¡°Good. Thank you, Athan.¡± A big smile spread across her face as she handed him his portion. For a moment, she simply watched him, gratitude clear in her expression. Then, without another word, she turned back to serve the next person in line. With his meal in hand, Athan stepped aside, feeling a quiet sense of fulfillment¡ªnot just from his work but from the trust and reliance the tribe was starting to place in him. The boy waited for his father, standing to the side. A couple of minutes later, Wade returned, spotting Athan before walking over to him. Taking his bowl, Wade glanced at his son. ¡°Old trap broke?¡± Athan nodded. ¡°Yes. Lara said water loosened the cord, so I made a new one.¡± Wade gave an approving nod. ¡°Fish trap need strong. Good fish for meal.¡± Then, before Athan could respond, Wade placed a firm but gentle hand on his head, ruffling his hair slightly. ¡°You do good work. Continue,¡± he said with a rare smile before turning to his meal. After the meal, Athan, Rael, and Lara began practicing letters on the ground again. But before they could truly start, Medi, Fi, Nat, and Meg approached. ¡°Can learn too?¡± Medi asked, eyes filled with curiosity. Athan looked up, surprised, then smiled. ¡°Yes. Sit here.¡± He quickly made space for them. Rael gave a small nod. ¡°More learn, better.¡± Athan picked up a stick and drew a letter in the dirt. ¡°Watch first. Then you try.¡± Lara, already holding a stick, smirked. ¡°Easy.¡± Fi frowned slightly. ¡°Not easy. Look hard.¡± Athan chuckled. ¡°Slow first. Try like this.¡± He demonstrated the strokes again, making sure they could follow. Each of them took a sturdy branch and began tracing in the dirt, some more hesitant than others. Nat scratched her head. ¡°Mine bad.¡± Meg glanced at her own shaky lines. ¡°Mine too.¡± Rael, watching them, gave a small reassuring smile. ¡°Not bad. Just start.¡± Medi, biting her lip in concentration, tried again. ¡°Like this?¡± Athan nodded. ¡°Yes. Good. Keep going.¡± The group continued practicing, their focus deep, as the flickering firelight cast long shadows over their hands and the letters they shaped in the dirt. As they worked, Athan moved between them, correcting their forms and encouraging them to repeat each symbol aloud. The new learners were slower, their lines wobbly, but they were determined, following his guidance with growing confidence. The flickering fire cast long shadows over the practice area, their focused expressions illuminated by its glow. Once the studying session was over, a different kind of anticipation filled the air. The group of women exchanged glances before turning toward Athan, their eyes gleaming with expectation. "Sing again?" one of them asked, and soon the others were nodding in agreement, their excitement evident. Athan turned to look at the men, who also seemed eager to repeat the chorus from the night before. Their expressions carried a sense of excitement and pride, as if the act of singing had become something more than just a sound¡ªit was an experience they wanted to relive. Sighing, but unable to hide his own satisfaction, Athan stepped toward the group of men and began whistling the familiar tune. The men joined in almost instantly, their deep voices humming in unison, their chests vibrating as the sound resonated through the air. This time, the song carried even more strength than before. Their voices rose with intensity, filling the night with a raw, powerful harmony that pulsed like a living force. The firelight danced against their faces as they sang, the rhythm pulling them in, their bodies instinctively swaying with the melody. The women sat spellbound, their eyes locked on the men, their bodies reacting to the sound in a way they could not fully explain. Goosebumps spread across their skin as the depth of the song reached them, stirring emotions they had never felt so strongly before. The connection between the singers and the listeners was undeniable¡ªwoven together through sound, breath, and unspoken understanding. As the previous night, the boy returned to his bedding after the chorus. But tonight, he did not fall asleep as quickly. His gaze lingered, puzzled, as he watched the women of the group take their men by the hand and disappear into the forest. The only one who remained was Lara, tending to the fire. Confused by what was happening, Athan sat up, his curiosity getting the better of him. After a moment of hesitation, he stood and made his way toward Lara, intent on asking her what was going on. "Why they go in forest? We no go?" Athan asked, still not understanding what was happening. Lara turned toward him, her emerald eyes widening in surprise as her face flushed red with embarrassment. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but no words came out immediately. Instead, she glanced away, her fingers fidgeting near the fire. At that moment, a distinct sound carried through the night from the direction where Ok, Medi, and Fi had disappeared. Athan''s ears perked up, his curiosity deepening as he tried to make sense of what was going on. The sounds triggered something in his memory... but Athan''s thoughts came to a sudden halt. Completely dumbfounded, he stared toward the forest, realization dawning on him. His wide eyes shifted to Lara, who was still visibly flustered, before flickering back to the trees. From different directions beyond the clearing, distinct noises reached his ears¡ªsounds that left no room for misinterpretation. A chorus of activity, each voice coming from a separate part of the woods. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Should he laugh? Should he be horrified? His mind raced as he grasped the full implications of what had just happened. The tribe... was using his song as a mating call. Before he could recover from his shock, he heard Lara''s voice, small and uncertain. "You... want to... with me? But..." Her gaze flickered over him from head to toe before she hesitated, then continued, "You still small to..." Athan stared at her with wide eyes, his breath catching. The realization hit him¡ªshe was almost willing to go through with it right then and there. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, filled with a yearning that left no doubt about what the song had stirred within her. The effect was undeniable. His heart pounded, his body tense as he felt the weight of the moment pressing on him. His lips parted, but no words came out. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away as he bit his lower lip. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fists and willed himself to regain control. "No," he finally muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly, breaking the spell. He had to steady himself. This wasn''t the time. This wasn''t right. Lara blinked, watching him, her breath shallow. But she didn''t push. Instead, she averted her gaze, her expression unreadable as she turned back toward the fire, the embers reflecting in her eyes. Looking into her eyes, he said softly, "Lara, I''m sorry, but my body is not ready for that yet. We need to wait until it is, all right?" He wasn''t sure what else to say, his voice hesitant, unsure how to ease the tension between them. Lara searched his face, her expression shifting as uncertainty clouded her features. "You... not want me?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with sadness, as if fearing rejection. The boy felt panic creeping in and quickly responded, "No, I do want you, of course! But I''m still too small for that, Lara. We wait, and then... when I''m ready, we can do that too. As much as you want." Lara looked into his eyes for a moment, as if searching for something. Then, a small smile tugged at her lips. "That''s all right. Go sleep, grow tall." The boy nodded before hurrying back to his bedding, eager to bury himself under his furs and escape the whirlwind of emotions swirling in his mind. He shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to sleep, but rest would not come easily tonight. His thoughts spun, replaying the conversation, the intensity in Lara''s eyes, the weight of his own words. Meanwhile, by the fire, Lara remained seated, her emerald eyes flickering with the glow of the flames. She watched Athan for a long moment, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. Her heart beat steadily, her mind replaying his words. "So¡­ he does want me," she thought to herself, feeling warmth spread through her chest. She poked at the fire absently, letting the embers dance into the air, her resolve only growing stronger. For now, she would wait. But someday, he would grow, and when that day came, she would be ready. Chapter 17 - Between Words and Gestures Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 30, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ---------------------------- Athan woke the next morning feeling completely out of sorts. His body was heavy with exhaustion, his limbs sluggish as he sat up from his bedding. The night had been anything but restful. He had tossed and turned for hours, his mind refusing to settle after the conversation with Lara. The weight of her words still lingered, pressing on his thoughts no matter how much he tried to push them aside. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind replayed the way she had looked at him, the emotions in her voice, the way she had accepted his answer without argument. And then there were the sounds from the forest¡ªlow murmurs, rustling leaves, and occasional noises that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. They had carried on deep into the night, making it impossible for him to drift into a peaceful sleep. Rubbing his face, he sighed heavily before forcing himself to his feet. His body ached from the lack of rest, and his mind felt sluggish. He stretched his arms over his head, hoping to shake off the stiffness, but the exhaustion remained. Glancing around, he noticed that the rest of the tribe was still asleep, their heavy slumber a stark contrast to his own restless night. The only one awake was Lara, tending to the fire as she usually did in the mornings. The sight of her made his stomach clench, and he quickly looked away, unsure of how to face her after last night. Still, there was work to do. Whether he was rested or not, the tribe needed him. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to face the day ahead. Getting up, the boy made his way to check the fields. The soil was still damp, confirming that the irrigation system had worked well overnight. However, something new had appeared in Field 2¡ªa small sprout had broken through the soil. The boy went back to his bedding, grabbing his notebook. As he walked toward Field 2, he flipped through the pages, checking his previous notes. Counting the days since he had planted the seeds, he realized that exactly seven days had passed. He ran his fingers over the fresh sprout, his heart filling with excitement. It was proof that his efforts were paying off, and he couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride. Checking every other field carefully before returning to Field 2, Athan sat on the ground, taking a moment to record his observations. He noted that the seed in Field 2 had taken exactly seven days to sprout, making this an important reference for future plantings. Satisfied with his notes, he returned to his bedding to store the notebook safely before heading to the stream to wash his hands, splashing cold water on his face to fully wake up. The refreshing sensation helped clear some of the fatigue from his restless night. With his mind now focused, he walked over to inspect the two wooden doors he had crafted, still lying on the ground, waiting to be installed. Running his fingers over the smooth wood, he mentally planned his next steps. Since the trench was still present, the boy took careful measurements using wooden markers. Selecting a log of the right dimensions, he stripped away the bark, ensuring a smooth surface before marking precise spots for the door''s pivot points. Taking into account the door''s size and structure, he began carving holes into the log, making sure they would fit the pivots securely when installed. His movements were steady despite the lingering fatigue from his restless night. Every cut had to be precise¡ªtoo deep, and the pivot would be loose; too shallow, and it wouldn''t turn properly. The rhythmic scraping of his knife against the wood filled the air, each motion methodical as he focused entirely on his task. As he worked, he occasionally paused to check his measurements, making small adjustments to ensure everything aligned perfectly. This was an important step, and he couldn''t afford mistakes. Completely absorbed in his task, Athan paid no attention to his surroundings, his entire focus locked onto shaping the wood correctly. The rhythmic scraping of his knife against the surface filled the quiet morning air, each precise cut smoothing the edges of the frame. He adjusted his grip, carefully working the pivot slots, unaware of anything else around him. It wasn''t until a voice broke the silence that he realized he was no longer alone. "What you do?" a familiar voice asked. Athan flinched slightly at the sudden interruption, his knife pausing mid-cut. He snapped his head up, his eyes landing on Lara, who stood nearby, watching him with curiosity. A soft, amused smile played on her lips, her emerald eyes flicking between his hands and the wooden frame in front of him. She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by what he was building, the morning sunlight casting a warm glow over her face as she stepped closer. The boy trembled slightly, his face turning red as he looked at her. He hesitated before showing her the pivot slot he was carving. "This go here, so door can open and close," he explained, his voice a bit unsteady. Lara stepped closer, tilting her head as she examined his work. "So, this door?" she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the wood. She ran her hand along the smooth surface, nodding slightly as if trying to understand the mechanics. Athan nodded, avoiding her gaze for too long. His grip on the knife tightened slightly, the awkwardness of the moment settling between them. He cleared his throat and resumed carving, his strokes more deliberate now, using the motion as a way to ground himself. The air felt heavier, charged with something unsaid. He could still feel Lara''s presence close to him, watching, curious, lingering in a way that made him unsure how to react. He didn''t know how to face her right now, not after last night''s conversation. But for now, the work gave him an excuse to focus on something else. Lara stood silently for a moment, watching Athan''s careful movements as he carved. Then, after a brief hesitation, she reached for a knife of her own, her fingers wrapping around the handle with quiet determination. Kneeling beside him, she began carving the other side of the log where the boy had marked the spot for the next slot, mimicking his actions as best as she could. Sensing movement beside him, Athan glanced up and saw her trying her best to help. He raised an eyebrow, watching her hands carefully. She was focused, her brows slightly furrowed, her lips pressing together in concentration. Each stroke was slow, uncertain at first, but she didn''t stop. Adjusting his position, Athan held his piece against the pivot to check if the slot was shaping correctly. As he did, he noticed Lara stealing glances at him, studying his method before returning to her own work. She was imitating him, carefully observing his every move, doing her best to replicate it. Her strokes remained hesitant at first, the motion unfamiliar, but with each attempt, her confidence grew. The rough cuts became smoother, the shape of her slot slowly taking form. Athan allowed a small smirk to tug at his lips. She was learning quickly, and she was determined. For a while, they worked side by side in silence, the rhythmic sound of carving filling the space between them. The tension from before lingered, unspoken yet undeniable, but neither of them acknowledged it. Instead, they let the work speak for itself, their quiet collaboration bridging the gap between them. Seeing her determination, Athan paused for a brief moment. "Here, like this," he said, demonstrating a smoother carving technique. He guided her hand briefly, showing her how to apply even pressure with each stroke. Lara nodded and adjusted her grip, following his lead with newfound confidence. The quiet rhythm of their carving filled the air, the soft scraping of wood against blade blending with the natural sounds of the village. The awkwardness from earlier seemed to fade, replaced by the simple act of working together. They didn''t need words¡ªjust the shared effort of creating something with their hands. About twenty minutes later, the slot Athan was carving had reached the right size. He then stopped Lara before rolling the log to fit it around the pivot points of the door, adjusting it slightly to make sure it aligned properly. Running his fingers along the edges, he tested its movement before stepping back, satisfied with his work. Glancing at Lara, he caught her watching him intently, her emerald eyes filled with determination. Encouraged by his actions, she carefully tested the slot she had been working on, her fingers running along the edges as she checked its fit against the pivot. Her movements were slower, more deliberate, as she tried to replicate Athan''s precision. Her lips pressed together in concentration as she adjusted the piece, shifting it slightly before stepping back to assess her work. When she saw that her slot was aligning correctly, a deep sense of pride swelled in her chest. She had done it¡ªshe was truly helping Athan, not just watching. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and for a moment, she forgot about everything else. This wasn''t just about the door; it was about proving to herself that she could do more, that she could stand beside him and be useful in ways she never had before. The boy, seeing her determination, simply smiled to himself and continued carving the other log after taking careful measurements. Side by side, they worked in quiet concentration, their hands moving steadily over the wood, the soft scraping sounds blending into the tranquil morning air. The tension between them from earlier had faded, replaced by an unspoken understanding as they worked together toward their shared goal. Once Athan had completed his piece, he set his knife down and stretched his fingers, feeling the ache from the precise carving. He glanced at Lara, who was still focused on her task, her hands steady as she refined her own work. He appreciated the help more than he could express and turned to her with a small, genuine smile. "Thank you," he said simply. Lara met his gaze and returned the smile, a quiet satisfaction in her expression. "Good work," she replied before standing up, brushing off the wood shavings from her hands. She gave him a final nod with smile before returning to tend the fire, leaving Athan to his next task. Now that the pieces were ready, Athan took the floor beam and rolled it toward the open door frame in the wall. Since the trench was still in place where the door would be installed, he had the advantage of clearly seeing how the pieces would fit together. He carefully positioned the beam, checking its alignment, his mind already planning the next steps to secure it properly. Using the wheelbarrow, he made his way to the cliff, carefully selecting sturdy rocks before loading them in and transporting them back to the trench where he was working. Once there, he began positioning the rocks, layering them with packed earth to ensure a solid foundation. With precise movements, he pressed them firmly into place, securing the log that would become the base of the door. Once satisfied with the stability of his work, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stretched his back, feeling the strain of the morning''s effort. With the task complete, he made his way back toward the fire, where the adults had begun to stir, the quiet hum of conversation slowly filling the air as the village woke to another day. Most of the men had a pale, exhausted look, their fatigue evident. His father was the only one who still seemed in relatively good shape. Athan shook his head, suppressing a quiet laugh so as not to draw attention to himself. Having read many books glorifying harems in his past life, he found it amusing that most of the men in the tribe¡ªwho had likely thought they were living a dream¡ªwere now on the verge of collapse after just two days of activity with two or three women at their sides. In the stories, protagonists always seemed to have limitless stamina, defying all logic. But in reality, satisfying multiple women to their content and doing so repeatedly was no easy feat. Even for men as physically fit as those in the tribe, endurance had its limits. Hiding his amusement, the boy went to find his father, as the other men seemed to need a moment to recover. He asked for his help to lift the doors, leading his father toward the spot where they lay on the ground. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Wade eyed the wooden panels curiously, clearly wondering how they would be used. Without asking further, he bent down, grabbed one of the doors, and followed Athan to the wall where the frame had been set. Once they placed the door near the entrance, Athan gestured for him to retrieve the second door and the upper frame section. Without hesitation, his father complied, moving with the quiet efficiency that Athan had come to admire. Once all the pieces were in place, the boy asked his father to install the door, fitting its pivot into the base slot. He then gestured toward the upper pivot point, pointing at the small protrusion above the door frame where the other slot would rest. His father put his hand on it following his instructions without question. Athan carefully opened and closed the door, observing the way the pivot functioned, ensuring it rotated smoothly without resistance. Satisfied with the motion, he nodded to himself before looking up and noticing several men approaching, ready to resume their work. He quickly intercepted them, requesting their assistance with the next step. With their help, they installed the second door and then lifted the horizontal beam that would sit above the frame. Athan took precise measurements, making sure that the top of the doorway would be secure the pivot resting inside the slot without probleme. He planned to carve the beam edge into half-moon shape so that it could simply be lowered into place, resting firmly on either side of the door beam for added stability. Of course, he would also tie it down afterward to ensure it would not shift or fall. Once the doors were temporarily removed from their supports, the men returned to their usual work, while Athan remained behind, focused on carving the top beam to fit perfectly into place. After about an hour, the boy was finally satisfied. He made one last careful adjustment to the lower and upper beams, ensuring that the door could only be opened inward. Every cut was precise, making sure the pivots rested securely in their slots. Once he was sure everything was ready, he called the men back to help. Together, they carefully set the doors into place, Athan making small adjustments as needed to ensure a perfect fit. The wooden panels now stood firmly in the entrance, marking the completion of a crucial step in securing the settlement. Two men began to tie it in place to the wall making sur it would not budge from there. Testing the door opening and closing them making sur nothing felt out of place. Stepping back, Athan examined their work, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. The doors were now properly installed, but one final issue remained¡ªhe needed to figure out a way to lock them at night. His mind was already racing with possible solutions as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, knowing that securing the door to the village would be his next challenge. Thinking about it, for now, without iron, he couldn''t make truly solid pieces. So he opted for another approach. Returning to the pile of branches and logs, he searched for two pieces in the shape of an L. After a moment, he found two, though they were slightly too thick for the use he intended. He set to work trimming them down, ensuring that their structural integrity remained intact. Once they were of the proper thickness, he grabbed his bow drill. Examining the drill stone, he decided to swap it for one that matched the size of the branches he was working with. Glancing around, Athan noticed Lara tending the fire. She seemed like the best person to assist him at the moment. Wanting her help once more, he approached. Lara, happy to be useful, added a log to the fire before following him. ¡°I need you to hold this steady while I use the bow drill,¡± Athan explained, gesturing to the piece of wood. ¡°It has to be straight, or the hole won¡¯t be clean.¡± Lara nodded, stepping closer and placing her hands firmly on the drill piece. ¡°Like this?¡± Athan checked her grip before giving a small nod. ¡°Yeah, just keep it steady. I¡¯ll do the rest.¡± Setting the bow against the drill, he began moving it back and forth. The friction built slowly, a faint wisp of smoke rising as the wood started giving way. The process was slow, and working at this angle made it even harder. ¡°This take long?¡± Lara asked, watching as Athan continued, sweat forming on his brow. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s slow,¡± he admitted, adjusting his stance. ¡°But once we get through this side, we¡¯ll do the same on the other log. Then the locking bar can fit in place.¡± Lara¡¯s grip tightened slightly. ¡°I hold strong. You work faster.¡± Athan smirked. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try.¡± With renewed effort, he worked the drill with more force. After a long struggle, the drill finally pierced through the log on the right side of the door. Both of them leaned back, taking a moment to breathe. Athan wiped his brow, feeling the strain in his arms, while Lara flexed her fingers, sore from holding the wood in place. ¡°One down,¡± Athan said, exhaling. ¡°We take a short break, then do the next one.¡± Lara glanced at the hole they had made and gave a small nod. ¡°Good. Then door lock at night. Safe.¡± Athan looked at her, surprised by her thoughtfulness. ¡°Yeah¡­ exactly.¡± They took a short break, drinking some water before moving on to the second hole on the opposite log, now more accustomed to the difficulty of drilling at this angle. They resumed their work with renewed determination. Taking their time, making sure to do the best job possible, the drill finally broke through the other side. Both of them let out a sigh of relief, sitting down to catch their breath. Athan wiped the sweat from his forehead before turning to Lara. ¡°Thanks for your help,¡± he said sincerely. Lara shrugged slightly but offered a small smile. ¡°I like help. You do much. Now I do too.¡± Athan chuckled, leaning back on his hands. ¡°Yeah, but I feel bad. You¡¯ve been helping me a lot today. I haven¡¯t done much for you in a while.¡± Lara tilted her head, thinking. ¡°You make village safe. That help.¡± Athan glanced at her, surprised by her straightforward answer. She wasn¡¯t looking for anything in return¡ªshe just wanted to help. Standing up, she brushed the dust from her hands. ¡°I go check fish trap. Maybe fish for soup.¡± Athan nodded, watching as she walked toward the river, her steps moving with purpose. As she disappeared into the distance, he let out a breath and turned his focus back to his work. Shaking off his thoughts, he grabbed the L-shaped branch, ensuring the smaller part faced upward, and began inserting it into place, determined to finish the locking mechanism as soon as he could. Taking his wooden mallet, Athan began tapping the L-shaped piece into place, ensuring it protruded slightly on the other side. He worked carefully, checking the alignment as he hammered. Once the L on the inside of the village extended about six centimeters from the log, he stopped and repeated the process on the opposite side of the door. Switching to the other side, he took his knife and carefully cut the excess length protruding from the log, ensuring the L pieces remained firm and locked into position. Using the same method he had applied with his hammer, he secured them tightly, making sure they wouldn''t shift. With the locking pivots now in place, all that remained was to take a long wooden plank, thinner than six centimeters, and position it across the door to keep it securely closed at night. Athan picked up a plank, measuring its width against the slots he had carved, his mind already picturing the final step of the locking mechanism. He checked the wooden planks he had already prepared and found one that fit. Dragging it over to the entrance, he felt a presence. Wade. Watching. Without a word, the man stepped forward to assist him. Athan gestured toward the L-shaped pieces on either side of the door. ¡°Put it here,¡± he instructed, positioning the plank across them. ¡°This keeps door shut.¡± Wade followed his lead, setting the plank down and testing its stability. He pressed against it slightly, checking that it wouldn''t budge. Satisfied, he gave Athan a firm pat on the shoulder. "Good," he said simply before turning back to his own work. With the doors now fully secured, Athan glanced toward the nearly completed wall. Thanks to everyone''s efforts, the fortification would soon extend all the way to the river. Their security was improving¡ªat least, as long as no animal decided to brave the water to bypass the barrier. The boy had some thoughts about utilizing the forest on the other side of the river, but for now, they would be able to stay where they were without any major issues¡ªat least until their homes were fully constructed. But before that, Athan had a small project in mind. Gathering his tools into the wheelbarrow, he walked toward the area where he had previously cut logs. Selecting a small piece of wood, he carried it over to a spot near the fields and sat down. As he settled, his eyes caught sight of more seedlings breaking through the surface in Field 2. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips¡ªproof that their efforts were bearing fruit. Setting his focus back on the wood in his hands, he began carving, his knife gliding across the surface with careful precision. Every movement was deliberate, each cut shaping the object he envisioned. Putting a lot of thought into it, he carved each line with precision. Once the basic object was shaped, he began decorating it with floral designs on each side before adding some flame pattern to the mix, making it far more beautiful than just a simple functional piece. After finishing the carvings, he started a small fire near the field, carefully using the flames to smooth the edges and remove any splinters. The heat darkened the details slightly, giving the piece a more refined appearance. Once satisfied, he cleaned the object, rubbing away any excess soot. An idea struck him¡ªhe could use fresh tree sap to give the wood a polished finish. He retrieved a small amount of sap from a freshly cut tree, passing by one of the men who was in the process of chopping wood. The man gave him a curious glance but continued his work as Athan quickly moved on. Returning to his spot, Athan used a piece of leather to rub the sap over the wood''s surface in circular motions, ensuring an even coat. The natural resin seeped into the grain, giving the object a subtle, waxed sheen that enhanced both its beauty and durability. Satisfied with his work, the boy activated the watering system, carefully monitoring the flow to ensure that each section of the field received enough moisture. He adjusted the channels slightly, making sure no water was wasted and that the soil remained evenly damp. Once he was certain everything was running smoothly, he knelt by the water source, rinsing his hands thoroughly before splashing cool water onto his face, letting the sensation refresh him. The morning sun was already climbing higher, and he could feel its warmth starting to press down on him. Feeling more awake, he retrieved his slingshot from his pouch, gripping the familiar wooden frame in his hands. Stepping a few paces away from the field, he picked up a few small stones and took aim at a distant tree. He pulled the band back, feeling the tension before releasing¡ªhis shot flying off to the side, missing the target completely. Frowning, he narrowed his eyes and adjusted his stance before trying again. The second shot was closer, but still not quite on target. Practicing with the slingshot had become a necessary routine for him. If he could improve his accuracy, he might be able to defend the fields better from birds and small animals. He spent several minutes honing his aim, gradually improving with each attempt. Once he felt satisfied with his progress, he closed the watering system, ensuring that no excess water was left flowing, and turned back toward the village, ready to continue with the day''s tasks. After that, returning near the fire, Athan noticed a group of hunters standing nearby, their expressions filled with frustration, while the workers on the wall seemed to be grinning to themselves. Curious, he approached, catching bits of conversation as he neared. "We come back¡­ hunt¡­ wall close," one of the hunters muttered, crossing his arms. "No way inside. Wade open for us." Hearing this, Athan¡¯s lips curled slightly in amusement, though he tried to suppress it. At least he now knew the doors were working exactly as intended. If they could keep the hunters out, they would certainly keep other unwanted visitors from entering as well. Satisfied, he turned away, making his way toward the food line where the evening meal was being served. As he approached, he spotted Lara distributing bowls of steaming soup. When his turn came, he accepted the bowl from her hands with a small nod. "Thanks." Lara met his gaze briefly, her lips curling into a faint smile before she turned to serve the next person. Athan carried his bowl to a nearby spot, settling down on the ground as the warmth of the meal seeped through his fingers. Letting out a breath, he took his first sip, letting the rich flavors soothe both his exhaustion and his thoughts. The day had been long, but progress was being made, and that was enough to satisfy him for now. Then came the evening''s study of the alphabet. As the lesson progressed, one of the women in the group suddenly suggested that the men should sing. Athan immediately refused for the night, not wanting to relive the awkwardness of the previous evening. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a few of the men subtly exhaling in relief, their shoulders relaxing at his decision. Internally chuckling at their reaction, he turned his attention toward Lara. She, too, seemed relieved, her posture easing as she avoided looking toward the others. Amused, Athan quietly approached her, curious if she had been just as eager to avoid another round of singing. But before speaking, he reached inside his clothes and pulled out the small object he had spent the afternoon carving. It was wrapped carefully in a large tree leaf, secured neatly around it. "Here... it''s for you," he said, his voice slightly hesitant as he extended the gift toward her, feeling a bit shy about the gesture. The young girl, surprised, took the object in her hands, looking at it curiously before glancing at Athan. "What... this?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. The boy simply gestured for her to open the package. "Open it, you see," he replied. Lara hesitated for a moment, then carefully peeled away the large tree leaf, revealing the item inside. The movement caught the attention of the nearby women and a few curious men, their gazes shifting toward Lara as she uncovered the gift. Inside was a finely carved wooden comb, its surface darkened to a deep, rich hue by the layer of tree sap that had been used as a natural polish. The polished wood reflected the flickering firelight, giving it an almost ethereal glow. Lara''s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in astonishment. The details of the carving were delicate, precise¡ªan intricate pattern adorning the handle. The craftsmanship was unlike anything she had seen before, and she held the comb with a mix of awe and hesitation. Yet, despite its beauty, she was unsure of its purpose. Turning to Athan, her brow furrowed slightly in silent question. Seeing her confusion, the boy extended a hand toward her with a small smile, ready to demonstrate. The young woman placed the comb in his outstretched hand, and the boy closed his fingers around it before gently reaching for a few strands of her hair. Carefully, he ran the comb through her hair, demonstrating its use as he spoke. "This... called comb," he said slowly, his words measured. "It go through hair... like this. Make straight, help remove knots... knots come natural." As he withdrew his hand, stepping back slightly, Lara remained still, her lips slightly parted in amazement. She reached up hesitantly, running her fingers through the section of hair he had just combed, feeling how smooth it had become. The strands separated easily, free of tangles, and she glanced back at Athan, her emerald eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "It... soft," she murmured, her fingers tracing over the fine lines of the comb once more as the boy handed it back to her. She turned it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship, before looking back at him. "You make?" Athan nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze. "Yeah. Thought... help." Lara''s lips pressed together as she looked down at the comb again, as if committing every detail to memory. She traced the carvings with her fingers, feeling the smooth grooves and ridges, before letting out a small breath. Then, with a soft smile, one that carried warmth and quiet gratitude, she lifted her gaze to meet his. "Good. Like." Athan exhaled, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath. He hadn''t expected such a warm reaction, and for a moment, he felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest¡ªsomething light, something... satisfying. "It''s a small thanks for all the help you''ve been giving me until now," he said with a smile, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. As he glanced to the side, he noticed the other women of the clan now fixated on the object in Lara''s hands. Their eyes flickered between the comb and Athan, curiosity and envy clear on their faces. Some whispered among themselves, while others simply observed in silence. Realizing he might be asked to make more, Athan quickly decided to retreat before any requests could be made. Without another word, he turned and swiftly left the scene, leaving Lara standing there, her fingers still wrapped around the comb. Her heart beat faster than before, a warmth spreading through her chest. Her fingers tightened slightly around the comb, but her mind was no longer focused on the object. Instead, it lingered on the boy who had given it to her¡ªthe way he had carefully crafted it, the slight nervousness in his voice when he handed it to her, and the warmth in his eyes when he saw her reaction. She had never received something so personal before, something made just for her. It was a simple gesture, yet it carried a weight she couldn''t quite describe, one that left her feeling both flustered and oddly comforted. Chapter 18 – The Birth of a Tradition Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 31, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ---------------------------- In the morning, Athan wakes up in a good mood and goes to check the fields. Several plants have broken through the surface during the night in Field 2. The soil is still moist, so there is no need to activate the watering system. After washing his hands and face, the boy heads towards the wall, specifically the section they are currently closing, which is located in front of the future toilets. Speaking to the men, he instructs them to attach a log approximately 30 centimeters above the ground, leaving a gap underneath for organic waste to eventually pass through into the forest. He hands them two flat stones and asks them to place them upright on either side of the log to keep it elevated before securing it in place. He then advises them to attach two support logs on each side to reinforce the structure, ensuring its stability and durability over time. The boy left the men and returned to tending the fields, meticulously clearing the pathways that had been dirtied by water runoff, ensuring that the soil remained loose and well-aerated for future planting. He checked the moisture levels of the soil, taking note of any areas that might require additional attention in the coming days. Once satisfied, he turned his attention to preparing future Field 10, marking the boundaries and beginning the initial process of clearing rocks and weeds from the area. However, before he could get far, a group of women approached him. Their expressions were a mix of curiosity and expectancy. One of them, a younger woman with long, dark hair named Fre, stepped forward hesitantly, clutching the edge of her leather clothing. ¡°Athan¡­ make comb? Like Lara?¡± she asked, voice cautious but hopeful. ¡°We have long hair too.¡± Behind her, the others nodded in agreement, their gazes fixed on him, waiting. Having thought about this issue for part of the night, Athan looked at each of them carefully, taking in their expectant expressions. Athan, having thought about this issue for part of the night, looked at each of them carefully. Taking in their expectant expressions. He sighed, then spoke in a calm but firm tone. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but no.¡± His voice carried certainty, but not unkindness. The women blinked, some shifting slightly. ¡°These combs are not just simple objects; they are meant to be crafted by a man for the woman he fancies.¡± He gestured toward where Lara usually was. ¡° Giving them away without meaning would take away their significance. ¡± Fre furrowed her brows. ¡°Not same?¡± Athan shook his head. ¡°Would it feel right to receive one from me, knowing it should hold a deeper intention?¡± His response made the women pause and think, just as he had intended. Some exchanged uncertain glances, while others lowered their gazes, considering his words carefully. A few of them crossed their arms, frustration flickering across their faces, but none spoke out in protest. Fre, the one who had asked, furrowed her brows and bit her lip, as if trying to reconcile his explanation with her expectations. One woman huffed softly, shaking her head, while another sighed and gave a small nod, seemingly accepting the reasoning. The group slowly began dispersing, murmuring among themselves, their expressions a mixture of disappointment and newfound understanding. He didn''t want to make combs for all the women of the clan¡ªit was better for them to receive one from their own man. He felt only slightly bad for the men who would likely face some silent treatment unless they crafted a comb themselves, but at this point, that was no longer his problem. Smiling, the boy began cleaning the field without any worry. In the meantime, Ok was being pestered by Medi and Fi as they worked alongside him to strip the bark from the trees that Wade and Yun had felled. The two women, who had initially approached Athan for a comb before seeking their own men, now turned their efforts towards Ok. They surrounded him, standing close as they leaned in, speaking in low, coaxing voices, their tones laced with playful persistence. Medi nudged his arm with a teasing smile. "Ok, you make comb, yes? You know wood. Easy for you." Fi, crossing her arms, tilted her head and pouted slightly. "We wait, but not long. Combs needed. You strong. Good hands." Ok hesitated, his hands tightening around the bark he was peeling. He could feel their expectant gazes on him, their subtle pressuring making it harder to focus. He glanced at them, noting the way Medi''s fingers traced the rough wood as if already imagining it shaped into something delicate, while Fi shifted impatiently, her foot tapping lightly against the ground. "I work," Ok finally muttered, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand. Medi giggled. "Yes, but later, combs?" Fi leaned closer. "You make, we happy. Maybe we happy for you too." The way she said it sent a ripple of nervousness through him, and he swallowed hard. He wasn''t sure if their playful flirting was just for fun or if they truly expected him to give in, but he knew one thing¡ªhe wasn''t getting out of this easily. The same phenomenon spread among every man in the tribe¡ªthe idea that a comb was a mark of affection ignited a frenzy among the women, spreading like wildfire. The air buzzed with excitement and urgency, as women whispered among themselves, strategizing how to secure a comb before the others. Some sought out their partners with expectant expressions, while others were more forceful, grabbing their men''s hands and placing them on wooden branches as if to demand, "Now, carve!" Tensions flared, and friendly competition quickly turned into heated rivalries. Some women resorted to bargaining, offering small favors or extra portions of food, while others took a more aggressive approach, sulking or outright threatening to withhold warmth and companionship if their demands were ignored. The men, caught off guard by the sudden expectations, groaned in frustration but knew there was no escape. At one point, two women nearly came to blows over a half-carved comb, each claiming it was meant for her. It took the intervention of Rael to settle the matter before it escalated into something worse. By the time the sun began to set, almost every man in the tribe was grumbling as they sat around their sharpening knives, awkwardly attempting to carve intricate patterns into pieces of wood, knowing that failure was not an option. ---------- That day, the boy''s tasks were progressing quickly¡ªanother field was completed. He took note of this achievement but, just like the previous nine, he still had no seeds to plant in it. He wondered what he could do about the situation, his mind racing for a solution. Shrugging after a moment, still without a clear solution except for returning to the woods to search for more resources¡ªsomething he couldn''t do alone¡ªhe exhaled heavily. His gaze then drifted towards the pile of drying wood, neatly stacked and waiting to be transformed into beams or planks. The sheer volume of lumber was impressive, yet it brought a troubling realization. As he studied the assortment of timber, a deep frown settled on his face. How could they construct buildings properly without nails? The technique he had used to craft his hammer had its limits, and he had already encountered these shortcomings when assembling his wheelbarrow. That project had been a struggle¡ªeach joint had required extensive carving to fit together, and even then, the structure had been barely stable. In motion, the wheelbarrow groaned and creaked, every jolt reminding him of its fragility. Frustration flickered in his eyes. He clenched his fists, feeling the urge to improve their methods. The day he finally had nails, he swore to himself, he would rebuild the wheelbarrow¡ªone that was not only functional but durable, silent, and efficient. Letting out a sigh, the boy knew he could not begin carving alone¡ªthe task was far too large for just one person. Instead, he retrieved his wheelbarrow, which, as always, creaked loudly with every movement. He made his way toward the cliff near the waterfall, where the sound of rushing water filled the air. Arriving at the rocky area, he began selecting stones, carefully assessing their shape and weight before setting them aside. He meticulously sorted the rocks into clear piles based on their type, paying close attention to their texture and color. As he worked, memories of his past life surfaced¡ªback when he was just a child, fascinated by stones. He had once loved their various hues and intricate patterns, spending hours collecting and admiring them. That youthful passion had never truly faded, and as he grew older, he had gathered complementary knowledge, embedding itself into his mind, never to be forgotten. Now, those skills were proving useful as he examined each stone, considering how they might best be utilized in future construction efforts. Looking at most of the stones there, he immediately recognized their potential uses. The majority of the rocks scattered on the ground were limestone, a valuable resource. He knew that when heated to the right temperature, limestone could be turned into lime powder. By mixing this powder with sand and water, it would create a strong mortar, capable of easily and efficiently binding stones together. This discovery was crucial¡ªit meant they could construct sturdier shelters, roads, and walls that would withstand time and the elements. Excitement bubbled within him as he realized the impact this could have on their tribe''s development. With proper use, they could quickly surpass the other settlements in terms of infrastructure and security. The thought of their small group transforming into a thriving, advanced community filled him with determination. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Without hesitation, he set to work, gathering all the valuable limestone into a single designated area. He knew he had to make it clear that these stones were special and should not be touched or used carelessly. Using his wheelbarrow, which groaned under the weight of each load, he quickly began constructing a sizable pile, ensuring that each rock was neatly arranged. As he worked, his movements were swift and efficient, his focus unwavering. Sweat gathered on his brow, but he paid it no mind. The importance of this task outweighed any discomfort. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn''t notice when Lara approached from behind. She stood for a moment, observing his efforts, her gaze shifting from him to the creaking wheelbarrow. Without saying a word, she knelt down and began collecting stones as well, carefully placing them in the designated pile. She mimicked his method before hesitantly asking, "Where do these go?" Her voice was soft, uncertain, yet eager to contribute. The boy pointed to a pile with a smile, and she carefully aligned the rocks by shade and texture, attempting to match them just as he seemed to be doing. Her silent participation spoke volumes¡ªthough she did not fully understand what he was doing, she trusted him enough to follow his lead. Without questioning, she moved with careful and deliberate motions, placing each stone with the same precision he displayed, her focus sharpening with each movement as she grew more confident in the task. She would occasionally glance at him, watching for approval or any subtle shifts in his expression that might indicate if she was making a mistake. Her fingers traced the rough surfaces of the stones, feeling their weight and texture, slowly developing a sense of their differences. A quiet rhythm formed between them, unspoken yet synchronized. The warmth of the sun bore down on their backs, dust clung to their hands and clothes, but neither seemed to mind. The unspoken understanding between them deepened as they worked side by side, each contributing to something larger than themselves. After a while, the boy and girl had accumulated several piles of stones, with the one made from limestone standing out as the largest, nearly four times the size of the others. Alongside it, he had gathered a significant amount of granite, its rough and sturdy texture distinct from the softer limestone. There was also a large pile of sandstone, known for its durability and suitability for construction, its rough, grainy surface making it an ideal material for building solid structures. The boy ran his hands over its surface, appreciating its resilience and potential use for foundation work and walls. Additionally, he had set aside a collection of smooth river stones, their surfaces polished by years of flowing water. These, he knew, could be useful for pathways, drainage systems, or even decorative elements to add refinement to their structures. He took a moment to examine the various sizes, contemplating their placement in future projects. He had also a growing mound of fine gravel, its small, jagged pieces perfect for stabilizing foundations, improving traction on pathways, or filling gaps between larger stones. He considered its importance in road-making, realizing it would be crucial in creating durable, walkable surfaces for the settlement. But his biggest find of the day was a stone ore, black with streaks of orange and red¡ªclearly iron ore. The mineral was as big as his head, and he had discovered it beneath a pile of other stones near the cliff. Looking up, he realized it must have fallen from above. The thought made him wonder¡ªwas there an iron vein hidden up there? If so, it could change everything. But he had no way to climb and check, at least not yet. Carefully, he lifted the heavy stone and moved it to the side, making sure to hide it behind a larger rock where others wouldn''t easily find it. His mind raced with the possibilities. If he could find more, if he could figure out how to extract and refine it, the tribe could move beyond simple wooden and stone tools. He clenched his jaw, realizing the challenge ahead. No one in the clan knew what iron was, let alone how to shape it into weapons or tools. But he did. The knowledge from his past life burned inside him, eager to be put to use. For now, he would keep this discovery to himself. If there was more, he would need a way to extract it without raising suspicion¡ªuntil the time was right. Putting the matter of the ore aside, he surveyed his growing stockpile, he began formulating plans for how best to utilize each material. His mind raced with ideas¡ªstone-reinforced walls, sturdy flooring, even primitive road systems. The vision of a structured, well-planned settlement filled his thoughts, and for the first time, he truly believed in the possibility of transforming their tribe''s way of life into something lasting and secure. Lara watched the boy deep in thought before tilting her head and asking with a playful smile, "What we do now?" Her eagerness to help was evident in her tone. Athan, looking at the setting sun, smirked and said, "Meal ready if you help more?" He winked, teasing her. Lara rolled her eyes but grinned. "You also help with meal," she retorted, crossing her arms and raising a brow. Athan chuckled at her quick comeback. "Okay, okay," he said with a grin, then pointed at the tools. "Go get dig tool. We make ground flat for bath, near waterfall." Lara huffed playfully but turned on her heels, heading off to retrieve the tool. Athan smirked, shaking his head amused by the older girl, shifting another heavy stone into the wheelbarrow. He worked swiftly, lifting and moving rocks, the sound of them clinking together filling the quiet air. When Lara returned, carrying the digging tool with exaggerated effort, she let out a strained breath. "Haa... heavy! Maybe you cook, I do strong work?" She smirked slightly, though her words were broken. Athan chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Oh? Now you are the strong one? Maybe I sit, and you dig all?" Lara narrowed her eyes, puffing her cheeks in mild frustration before shaking her head. "You dream! Work now." Laughing, Athan grabbed his tool and motioned for her to follow. The playful banter, despite the language barrier, kept their spirits high as they continued their labor. ------------ Rael kept a watchful eye on her son as the day wore on. She was not amused by the commotion surrounding the combs, but she couldn¡¯t entirely blame him. He had simply given a gift to the woman he fancied¡ªa small token of appreciation for her help. But what started as a simple gesture had grown into something else. Now, the women of the clan competed for attention, trying to gain more favor from their shared partners. A problem that had never existed before was now taking root, disturbing the tribe¡¯s harmony. Rael sighed, crossing her arms. This needed to stop. If left unchecked, these tensions could fester, creating deeper divisions. She had to act¡ªbefore it got worse. Nearby, Wade walked past, noticing his woman watching their son with a frown. He knew that look. She was thinking about the clan''s trouble. Stepping closer, he spoke simply. ¡°Talk to Athan? Boy always have ideas. Maybe help.¡± He shrugged. The boy had a way of finding answers when others couldn¡¯t. Rael glanced at her partner, considering his words. She would wait until after the meal. First, the tribe¡¯s needs¡ªthen, she would deal with this growing tension. ---------- After a while, the boy stopped Lara from continuing. The afternoon was well advanced, and if they wanted to make the meal, they needed to start soon. About half the area for one of the two baths he envisioned had been dug. Maybe they could finish it by tomorrow evening. He gathered their hoes and dropped them into the wheelbarrow before leading Lara toward the waterfall. Once there, Athan washed his hands and face, sighing in relief as the cool water refreshed him. Lara, however, hesitated a few steps behind, her body tense as she watched him. Her unease was clear. "Be careful," she muttered, her voice quieter than usual. Athan paused, glancing at her curiously. It wasn''t like her to be so hesitant. Then, the realization hit him¡ªno one in the tribe knew how to swim. That was why Lara and his father had no problem retrieving the fish trap; the water had only reached their knees. But beyond that? The deeper parts of the river had always been off-limits. His parents had warned him from a young age never to go near the water unless it was for filling his waterskin or fetching water for the tribe and to always be under watch. Now, seeing Lara''s wary expression, he understood why. The boy said, "Come, clean your hands and face too. It is good to be clean." The young woman huffed, crossing her arms. "I always clean!" she insisted, though her voice held a hint of doubt. Despite her words, the afternoon of working the ground had made her sweat, and she could feel the dust clinging to her skin. Not wanting to smell bad, she hesitated before stepping forward, kneeling near the water''s edge. She cupped the cool water in her hands, splashing it onto her face and rubbing away the sweat and grime. She sighed softly, the fresh sensation soothing against her warm skin, though she still threw a glance at Athan as if daring him to say anything more about it. The boy, still smiling, turned his attention back to the task at hand. He took a careful look at the field before opening the watering system, watching as the water slowly spread through the pathways, saturating the soil. He waited patiently until the ground was sufficiently moistened before shutting it off, ensuring they didn''t waste any water. Satisfied with the work done, he turned to Lara, giving her a small nod before they both made their way back toward the fire circle, the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows behind them. The embers in the fire circle were still glowing, so with a few dry pieces of wood, Athan quickly revived the flames. Once the fire was stable, he and Lara made their way toward the fish trap. Lara stepped cautiously into the water, shivering slightly as the cool current swirled around her legs. Reaching for the woven trap, she pulled it up with a firm tug, water cascading from it as she lifted it higher. Inside, two large fish and two medium-sized ones flailed, their bodies twisting violently in an attempt to escape. She grunted as she steadied the trap, then glanced at Athan. "Good fish today." Athan nodded, grinning. "Big ones. Meal will be good." Lara reached inside carefully, grabbing one of the larger fish and dropping it into their fish bag. One of the medium fish thrashed wildly, nearly slipping from her grasp, making her huff in frustration before managing to secure it. Athan chuckled at her struggle, but she only shot him a brief glare before continuing. Once all the fish were secured, they reset the trap with fresh bait before heading back to the fire circle. The sun had dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the camp as the smell of burning wood filled the air. With the meal now in hand, they prepared to cook, the sound of crackling flames welcoming them back. The boy began making several trips to fill the cooking pot with water while Lara carefully cut open the fish, gutting and cleaning them with practiced efficiency. Once the fillets were prepared, she set some of the meat aside for smoking, ensuring they had preserved food for later, while the fish heads and tails were placed in the pot to begin a simple but hearty soup. As Athan continued his task, the hunters returned, carrying their latest catch¡ªa large rabbit. One of the men approached him, recounting the hunt with a satisfied grin. "Rabbit come close to bait. Ulf throw spear, fast. Hit good." He gestured towards Ulf, who nodded in confirmation, holding up the rabbit with pride. Athan glanced at the animal, noting its size. It was a solid catch and would add to their meal for the night. With a nod of approval, he returned to his task, knowing that every bit of food they gathered now would help them through the coming days. Hunting those big rabbits was always difficult; the hunters had only managed to catch two since the village was established. The prey were incredibly fast, requiring both skill and a fair amount of luck to successfully trap or strike one down. Lara worked carefully as she cut the rabbit open, taking special care not to damage the fur, knowing that Medi would want to tan it properly. She moved with practiced precision, her hands steady despite the fading light. As always, the bones were cracked and added to the soup, their rich marrow enhancing the broth. Once stripped of their usefulness, the remaining bones were tossed into a pile near the fire. Athan had plans for these¡ªhe intended to burn them thoroughly before grinding them down into a fine powder. He knew from his past life that bone ash could be used to enrich the soil, providing valuable nutrients that would help strengthen future crops. He glanced at the small pile, already calculating how much he would need to fertilize their fields properly. Every little improvement counted, and he was determined to use every resource efficiently. The girl carefully arranged the rabbit meat on the smoking rack, ensuring the pieces were evenly spread to dry properly over the slow-burning embers. The rich, savory scent began to mingle with the wood smoke, a comforting reminder of the meal they would enjoy in the coming days. Knowing that a hearty ragout would be the best way to use the preserved meat, she mentally planned the ingredients they would need. With the preparations underway, she stepped back, glancing at Athan with a small nod of satisfaction before returning to tend the fire. As the boy finished filling the pot, one of the hunters, Thad casually dropped some root vegetables into the broth, a staple in their meals. Athan paused, staring at them with sudden interest before turning to Lara and the hunter. "Can I have one?" he asked, his tone eager. The girl and the man exchanged a glance before the hunter shrugged and handed him one. Athan held the root in his hand, turning it over, studying its texture and shape. A thought formed in his mind¡ªif it grew in the wild, could he cultivate it in the fields? Could he regrow and multiply it, ensuring a steady food supply? Excited by the idea, he quickly took the root and hurried back to Field 9. His mind raced with possibilities as he carefully selected a spot where the soil was loose and rich. Kneeling down, he used his fingers to dig a small hole, ensuring it was deep enough to protect the root while allowing it to sprout. He gently placed it inside, covering it with soil and patting it down with careful precision. Would it take? Would it sprout and grow? He had no way of knowing for sure, but he was eager to find out. His past life had given him knowledge of farming, but experimenting in this world, with its different conditions, was a new challenge. He considered watering it but hesitated¡ªtoo much water could rot it before it even had a chance to grow. Instead, he decided to wait and observe. He quickly marked the spot with a small pile of river stones, ensuring he wouldn''t lose track of it. Before heading back to his bedding, he took out his notebook, a habit he had formed to record everything new, and carefully wrote down the location, date, and soil condition. He also made a note to check the root daily, to see if any sprouts emerged or if he needed to adjust the conditions. With a final glance at his small experiment, he stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands. This was just the beginning, but if it worked, it could mean something far greater than just one meal, meaning a steady supply of those roots. Chapter 19 - Closing the Gaps Join the Adventure on Patreon! ?? Haven''t joined Patreon yet? You''re missing out! On the free platform, a new chapter will be added every Friday at 5 PM. Once a Week. On Patreon, I will do my best to upload 1 chapter every two day, we''re already at Chapter 33, giving supporters exclusive early access to the latest chapters before anyone else! ?? What you get by joining: Read ahead and stay ahead! ?? Exclusive early access to new chapters. Support the growth of The Greatest City Developer. Don''t wait! Join now and be part of the journey. ? Go to: Patreon.com/WLTBneet (Type it in your browser!) Your support makes all the difference¡ªthank you! ?? ---------------------------- Athan rose from his bedding and grabbed his wooden bowl. As he stepped forward, he moved toward the forming line for the evening meal. However, something felt off. The usual chatter that filled the air during mealtime was absent. Instead, an unsettling silence had settled over the clan, making his steps slow instinctively. He exchanged a glance with Lara as she filled his bowl, her own expression mirroring his confusion. The two of them, unsure of what was happening, kept quiet and took their places by the fire. Athan sat down, and the older girl settled next to him, both eating their meal in silence as their eyes wandered over the camp. The tension among the clan members was undeniable¡ªsubtle glances, hushed murmurs, and stiff shoulders made it clear that something was wrong. After a while, as they finished their food, Rael, Athan''s mother, approached them. Her expression was serious as she gestured for them to step aside. Without a word, they followed her a short distance away, avoiding the prying ears of the others. With a sigh, Rael began to explain. The situation with the combs had escalated. What had started as a simple act had spiraled out of control¡ªwomen had begun forcing their men to create combs as proof of their affection. However, most of the men lacked the skill to carve such an item, which had led to frustration and disputes. Some women had resorted to pressuring their partners, while others had gone so far as to barter and compete with each other, creating rifts within the group. The most alarming part, Rael revealed, was that two women had nearly come to blows over a comb, each claiming it should be theirs. It had taken her intervention to stop the fight before it turned physical. Athan and Lara listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to disbelief as they absorbed the unexpected consequences of what they had believed to be a simple gesture. Neither of them had anticipated that the act of gifting a comb would lead to such turmoil within the tribe. Lara, unsure of what to do, remained silent, while Athan sat deep in thought, his brows furrowed. The two women watched him closely, recognizing that if anyone could come up with a solution, it would be him. After a long moment of contemplation, Athan let out a sigh, his decision made. He looked up and said firmly, "Alright, please call all the men to me." The two women nodded and quickly left to gather the men. In the meantime, the boy was still thinking. I don''t want to make combs for other men, he thought, so an alternative was needed... Once all the men had gathered away from the women of the group, Athan observed their reactions. From what he could see, several of them bore resentment toward him for involving them in this matter of symbolic gifts. Understanding their frustration, the boy took a deep breath before speaking. "I am sorry. I did not mean to make trouble. I did not think combs would cause this." Some of the men grumbled, their expressions still carrying traces of resentment. Athan continued, speaking slowly so everyone could understand. "These are gifts that must be made by you, so I cannot make them for you." Several men still looked at him with irritation, but he smiled and added, "However, I can help you learn." Surprised, the men exchanged glances, contemplating his words. "Starting tonight, and on the following nights, while women study writing, I will teach you how to carve your combs." Athan explained. The men''s expressions shifted from doubt to relief¡ªmost were reassured to know they wouldn''t have to struggle alone with the task of crafting the combs. After that, Athan asked Lara and his mother to gather the women. As the group formed, he noticed the heavy atmosphere settling over them. Realizing that he needed to quickly ease the tension, he spoke loudly enough for the men to hear as well. "I am sorry. Did not think before giving the comb to Lara. But not be mad at your men. They try to make combs for you, and they ask me for help. It takes time. We make them little by little every night, so you all get one soon. Please, do not push men too much. They care for you." At first, the group was hesitant, their expressions still tense. Some crossed their arms, others exchanged doubtful glances, but as Athan spoke with calm assurance, the weight of his words started to settle in. Slowly, the tension in the air eased. The women, though not entirely satisfied, seemed to accept the compromise. Meanwhile, a quick glance at the men showed that they, too, looked relieved, reassured by Athan''s willingness to guide them through the process. The atmosphere, though not completely back to normal, had shifted¡ªthere was now a sense of resolution, a quiet understanding that things would move forward. --------------- Rael watched her son after his speech, a quiet smile forming on her lips. She felt both happy and proud¡ªAthan had not only addressed the conflict but had also found a simple and effective way to ease the tension within the clan. His ability to think, adapt, and bring people together reassured her. She took a slow breath, observing the way the men relaxed their shoulders, no longer burdened by resentment, and how the women seemed more at ease, nodding to one another as they accepted the compromise. The once-tense atmosphere was slowly shifting into something calmer, more united. Her gaze lingered on Athan. He was still young, but his presence carried a weight beyond his years. He was no longer just a boy finding his place in the tribe¡ªhe was guiding them, even if he didn''t realize it yet. She felt a warmth in her chest, a mixture of relief and admiration. If he continued like this, there was no doubt in her mind that he would shape the future of their people. For now, though, she let herself enjoy the moment, grateful that, even in the face of unexpected conflict, her son had found a path forward. As for Lara, she never took her eyes off Athan. To her, his presence, the way he stood and spoke in front of everyone with such confidence, was truly awe-inspiring. She had known him since he was born, watched him grow, yet every day he managed to surprise her. He was no longer just the boy she had seen grown up¡ªhe was becoming someone greater, someone who could shape the future. She studied his posture, the way he carried himself. His expression was calm but firm, his words measured. At times, his presence felt almost dominating, as if he stood above the rest of the tribe despite his young age. He wasn''t just reacting to problems anymore¡ªhe was leading, guiding. A part of her felt a strange sense of pride, as if witnessing something special unfold before her eyes. But at the same time, a small part of her wondered how much more he would change. Would he still be the same Athan she had always known? Her fingers subconsciously tightened around the edge of her clothing as she exhaled softly. He was capable¡ªthere was no doubt about that. He had already done more than anyone else in the tribe, proving himself time and time again. Yet, watching him shoulder so much responsibility made her uneasy. Did he truly understand the weight he carried, the expectations pressing down on him? She admired him deeply, more than she could ever put into words. To her, there was nothing he couldn''t overcome. Every challenge, every problem¡ªhe faced them without hesitation, always finding a solution. It was as if he saw the world differently, where others saw obstacles, he saw paths forward. His confidence, his unwavering determination, made her believe that as long as he was there, nothing could go wrong. No matter how difficult things became, Athan would always find a way. ---------------- Athan sighed internally. The more time passed, the more responsibilities piled onto his shoulders. He had never intended to be the one making combs for the entire tribe, yet now he was responsible for teaching every man how to carve them. On top of that, he was already instructing a group of women in writing, ensuring they memorized letters and symbols. Every day, new demands arose, and the sheer weight of it all made his head ache. But dwelling on it wouldn''t help. Deciding to keep moving, he turned to the women and instructed them to begin practicing the alphabet. He watched as they settled into their groups, murmuring as they traced letters in the dirt or recited them aloud. He observed them for a moment, noting how they were now able to work together, correcting each other''s mistakes. Their confidence in writing was growing, and unless there was a major problem or the entire group forgot a section of letters, they no longer needed his constant supervision. That realization gave him a small sense of relief¡ªit was one less task he had to manage on his own for the moment. Now, he could focus on the men. He instructed them to gather a piece of wood each and bring their knives. Once they were ready, he demonstrated the carving techniques he had mastered for shaping the combs. He moved with precision, showing them how to hold the knife correctly, how to scrape along the grain of the wood to avoid splintering, and how to carve even on each side. As he observed the group, he quickly noticed Ok making rapid progress. The man''s hands moved with confidence, his strokes steady and deliberate, his focus unwavering. Athan nodded in approval, recognizing the experience Ok had gained since making the tribe''s shoes. His hands were sure and precise, shaping the wood with an ease that the others struggled to replicate. It was clear he had spent time working with different materials, learning how they responded to carving. When Athan had to step away to check on the women, he left Ok in charge of guiding the others. Ok took the role naturally, adjusting the explanations Athan had given and filling in small but important details that made the work smoother. He demonstrated how to adjust grip pressure for better control, how to angle the blade properly for cleaner cuts, and how to avoid splintering the wood. His methodical way of teaching helped the other men grasp the process more easily, making steady improvements under his instruction. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The air filled with the rhythmic sounds of carving, the sharp scrape of blades against wood blending with the occasional murmurs of concentration. Some of the men struggled, but Ok moved among them, correcting their grip, showing them how to better guide their strokes. His patience made the process less frustrating, and soon enough, even the slowest learners began to see results. The once hesitant movements of the men grew more confident, and Athan, watching from a distance, exhaled quietly. Maybe this task wouldn''t be as exhausting as he had first thought. Seeing the group work together, learning from one another, gave him hope that they would all improve faster than expected. Athan exhaled quietly, watching the progress unfold. Maybe this task wouldn''t be as exhausting as he had first thought. After about an hour, he clapped his hands to get everyone''s attention, signaling the end of the lesson. "That''s enough for today," he announced, his voice firm but calm. "We''ll continue tomorrow." The men, some stretching their tired hands, nodded in agreement. Some had made decent progress, while others were still struggling, but the atmosphere was more relaxed than when they had started. There was an unspoken understanding that, with time, they would improve. Meanwhile, the women began sweeping away the dirt and markings from where they had been practicing the alphabet, smoothing the ground in preparation for the next lesson. Their quiet movements and occasional chatter signaled a sense of routine settling in, as if this practice had already become a natural part of their daily lives. Feeling exhaustion settle over him, Athan gathered his things and made his way back to his bedding. The day had been long, filled with responsibilities and lessons, and though his mind was still racing with thoughts of what needed to be done next, his body reminded him of its limits. He was still just six years old, and no matter how much he accomplished, fatigue always caught up with him. Lying down, he let out a slow breath, staring up at the dim sky above. Tomorrow, he would have to think of the next steps¡ªthere was always something to improve, something to build. But for now, he allowed himself a brief moment of rest. With that final thought, his eyes drifted shut, and sleep quickly took over. ------------ The next morning, as the sun began to rise, Athan woke up and stretched before stepping outside. Passing by the fields, he noticed that the soil looked drier than usual. Without hesitation, he activated the watering system, watching as the pathways slowly filled with water. While waiting for the soil to soak up the moisture, he took the time to wash his hands and face, enjoying the refreshing sensation of the cool water against his skin. As he was occupied, he suddenly heard the sound of water splashing nearby. Turning his head, he saw Lara mimicking his actions, cupping water in her hands and gently washing her face. A small smile tugged at his lips¡ªit seemed she had started to appreciate the habit of these morning ablutions. Once the pathways were fully saturated, Athan made his way toward the fields to check on the crops. Field 2, where the plants had begun sprouting a couple of days ago, immediately caught his attention. The young shoots had started to develop long, thin tendrils, stretching outward as if searching for something to hold onto. Some had already latched onto small rocks and blades of grass, their delicate spirals wrapping tightly around anything they could grasp. Observing this, Athan realized that this particular plant must be a type of vine. Understanding the plant''s need for support, he set out to gather sturdy branches, intending to place them into the soil to provide a structure for the vines to cling to and grow upward. As he walked past the treeline, he selected branches that were thick yet flexible enough to serve as natural stakes. He stripped away excess leaves and twigs, making sure they were smooth before carrying them back to the field. Lara followed him closely, watching curiously as he carefully positioned the sticks into the ground at even intervals. Though she assisted him, she clearly didn''t fully understand what he was doing. Still, she helped without hesitation, mimicking his movements and pressing the stakes firmly into the soil alongside him. Occasionally, she would glance at Athan, her brows furrowed slightly as if trying to decipher his reasoning. Despite her uncertainty, she trusted his judgment, knowing that he always had a plan. The two of them spent about twenty minutes setting up the supports, making sure each stake was secure. Once finished, Athan carefully guided some of the tendrils toward the supports, gently wrapping them around the sticks to encourage upward growth. As he stepped back to admire their work, a small sense of satisfaction washed over him. It was another step toward making their fields more productive, another step toward ensuring the tribe''s survival. He exhaled deeply, feeling the steady progress of their efforts take shape before his eyes. Beside him, Lara observed the structured rows of stakes, her gaze lingering on the carefully placed supports. After a while, she turned to Athan, her voice filled with curiosity. "Now we dig?" she asked, pointing toward the partially excavated ground where they had started digging the day before. Athan nodded, wiping a bit of dirt from his hands before stepping toward the tools. He grabbed the wheelbarrow and the hoe, his fingers tightening around the handle as he assessed the area. The bathing space needed to be properly leveled, ensuring water would correctly flow inside the future bath. Without hesitation, he struck the ground, loosening the packed earth before pushing the soil aside. As he worked, he made sure to move the excess dirt to the growing pile they had started the previous day using the wheelbarrow, ensuring that it would be in a manageable location for future use. Lara followed his lead, grabbing another hoe and mimicking his movements. Though her strokes were initially uneven, she quickly adjusted, watching Athan for guidance. The rhythmic sounds of digging filled the air as they worked side by side, the morning sun casting long shadows over the field. Slowly but steadily, the bathing area began to take shape. After a while, the two of them heard voices approaching. The team that had been working on the walls had finished and wanted Athan to inspect their progress. Pleased by their enthusiasm, the boy readily agreed. Lara, equally curious to see the improvements made for the tribe''s safety, followed closely behind him. As they arrived near the completed section, Athan''s eyes immediately focused on the small hole in the ground¡ªpart of the future waste disposal system the workers had carefully constructed. He stepped closer, inspecting the depth and placement, nodding in approval as he envisioned how the system would function once completed. Continuing his inspection, he walked along the length of the wall, running his hands along the sturdy logs, ensuring their placement was solid and secure. When he reached the end of the structure near the water, he noticed a significant defensive measure¡ªthe team had placed a thick barrier of branches in the shallows, partially obstructing the path leading from the water''s edge. This meant that any intruders trying to cross from that direction would have no choice but to wade through the water or swim, making them slower and more vulnerable. Athan stood back, observing the entire structure and imagining future enhancements. A small smile formed on his lips. This was real progress¡ªstep by step, their home was becoming safer. Turning toward the workers, he beamed with genuine appreciation and declared, "You have done it! Now village be much safer, and it is all thanks to you! A huge thank you!" The workers, tired but proud after multiple days of work, exchanged satisfied glances, some giving small nods, others grinning at Athan''s praise. Their hard work was paying off, and the tribe was one step closer to true security. Athan said, "Now, those who need a break, you can rest or do whatever else you need. But before, I want to show you next step of what you be working on afterward." He led the group toward the pile of logs that had been set aside during the wall construction. While most had been used for the structure, the larger trees had been reserved for future projects. Standing before the group, he pointed at the logs and continued, "Next, we need to carve these into two shapes. We''ll need square-shaped logs and planks." Using a branch, he traced shapes in the dirt to illustrate. "For square beams, you only need to carve logs into this shape here, but try to make them as big you can," he explained, outlining the process. For the planks, Athan retrieved the wooden stakes they had used earlier, along with the bow drill he had made to create holes in wood and he also grabbed his wooden mallet. Demonstrating, he used the bow drill to bore holes along the length of a trunk before inserting the stakes into the openings. Then, using the wooden mallet, he alternated striking the stakes from top to bottom along the log, gradually splitting it apart as evenly as possible. Once the first plank was separated, he repeated the process to create additional planks. "Last step is refine them, making sure surfaces as straight as possible," he said, running his hand along the rough plank. "And with that, we have our basic wooden boards." Once the demonstration was finished, some of the group, needing a break, dispersed to tend to other tasks. Meanwhile, the others, eager to continue, began carving the beams and planks Athan had instructed, setting the foundation for their next construction efforts. The boy and the young woman, determined to finish before the end of the day, returned to their digging. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the field as they worked, their movements steady and purposeful. The sound of shovels striking the earth and the occasional grunt of effort filled the air as they carefully leveled the entire excavation site. Sweat glistened on their foreheads, but neither of them slowed, their focus unwavering. Each scoop of soil brought them closer to completing the bathing area, a crucial addition to improving the tribe''s daily life. After what felt like hours of hard labor, they finally stepped back to assess their work. The entire area was now properly shaped and ready for the next phase. However, before they could proceed, they would need two essential materials, clay and sand. That task would have to wait until the next day. Feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over them, Athan and Lara decided it was time to prepare the evening meal. Heading toward the fish traps, they retrieved two medium-sized fish that had been caught, resetting the trap with fresh bait before returning to camp. Athan then made several trips back and forth to fill the cooking pot with water from their supply while Lara prepared the fish, cleaning and arranging them for smoking. Tonight, as well as in the coming days, they planned to make stews using the smoked meat from the massive rabbit they had caught the day before, ensuring their meals would be both hearty and long-lasting. The hunter then arrived, but today, they had no game to bring back, only a collection of berries and root vegetables. Athan took two of the roots, deciding to bury them in Field 9, hoping they might grow and provide a future food source for the tribe. After doing so, he paused by his bedding, taking a moment to note the changes in Field 2 and Field 9, tracking on paper the tribe''s agricultural progress. Once satisfied, he returned to help Lara, who was occupied with boiling the stew. She carefully placed heated stones into the cooking pot, allowing the water to reach a boil before removing them and replacing them with newly heated ones. The alternating process helped maintain the heat, ensuring the stew cooked thoroughly despite their lack of metal cookware. The rich aroma of the simmering broth mixed with the earthy scent of the smoked rabbit, promising a hearty meal for the evening. Athan watched for a moment before stepping in to assist, stirring the mixture with a wooden ladle to ensure even cooking. The steam rose in thick swirls, carrying the scent of their meal through the air. Nearby, some of the other tribe members had begun to gather, drawn by the inviting smell. Their expressions, once weary from the day''s work, softened in anticipation of a warm meal. Lara, focused on maintaining the fire, occasionally glanced at Athan, ensuring the process was going smoothly. She adjusted the positioning of the stones, making sure the heat was distributed evenly. Meanwhile, Athan considered how the meal, though simple, was another step in reinforcing their stability as a tribe. Providing food, securing defenses, and organizing labor¡ªit was all connected. As the stew thickened, Lara scooped a small portion into a wooden bowl, blowing gently on it before tasting. A pleased smile spread across her face as she nodded approvingly. "It ready," she said, glancing at Athan. He gave a small nod before turning to the others who had gathered. "Come, eat. You all worked hard today." As the tribe gathered around the fire, bowls in hand, a sense of calm settled over the camp. The air was filled with the rich scent of the stew, blending with the faint smokiness of the fire. Athan watched as the tribe members took their portions, murmuring in quiet satisfaction as the warmth of the meal spread through them. Lara sat beside him, her own bowl in hand. She took slow bites, occasionally glancing at Athan, a soft smile playing on her lips. "It strange? How things feel¡­ peace now," she mused. Athan nodded, taking a sip of the broth. "It is. But it''s good. The wall is finished, the combs issue is settled, and now we''re building things that will last." His mother, Rael, also seemed to notice the shift. When their eyes met across the fire, they exchanged a small nod, silently acknowledging the return of harmony within the group. It was a reassuring sight¡ªafter the day''s work and lessons, the tribe had regained its unity. After the meal, Athan resumed the lessons he had started earlier. The men continued their diligent efforts, carving combs with growing skill, determined to craft meaningful gifts for their partners. Meanwhile, the women practicing writing were reaching a new milestone¡ªsoon, they would be ready to learn how to connect the symbols, marking the second steps toward a written language. Beyond just a lesson, the comb-making and writing sessions were shaping into traditions¡ªone strengthening bonds between couples, the other laying the foundation for a recorded history. The tribe was evolving, step by step, and Athan could feel the significance of these small yet vital advancements taking root in their daily lives.