I am the God of Games (Part 2)

Chapter 207

Chapter 207: Sibling Rivalry

The Long-Ears’ tribe had settled in an elevate area full of reefs and faced the sea, with every house having an ocean view even if it wasn’t exactly warm even in spring.

But that was nothing good, because the vertical cliff that kept them over twenty-meters above the sea would not ensure their safety.

Tsunamis and other natural disasters notwithstanding, the proximity meant any sea monster that could leave water for brief periods could attack them. After all, they could climb the reef cliff or simply leap over those twenty odd meters—it was no problem for most sea monsters with their massive bodies or their suction cups.

Any smart tribal chief would never set up camp here, but it was not as if the Long-Ears’ chief was a fool: he only decided to settle the tribe here because they had no choice.

After all, every other place in the Vierlin Plains were either occupied by other nonhuman tribes or claimed as hunting grounds. The Long-Ears only had themselves to blame for being the weakest tribe—not because they had few young and strong individuals, but because they were physically weak and clearly didn’t have any unique ability, and therefore couldn’t compete against other nonhumans.

As such, their kind was naturally denied any place to live, ending up having to choose a place as isolated as it was dangerous.

“Chief, we can’t go on like this! Three of us are dead in just a month!” A middle-aged Rabbitman with long gray ears complained unhappily. “The children wouldn’t have anything to eat even if we try to bear more and make up for numbers! If this continues, our tribe would be extinct in a few years!”

“Worry not, Rangka. This is only temporary—I shall find a way so that our tribe would live in comfort. You must believe in me!”

The other Rabbitman—the tribal chief of the Long-Ears—resembled Rangka in appearance, but he was older and skinny. He was no longer as tall as a typical Rabbitman, and he was grasping a long, worn and yellowed staff with his hand that was grown full of calluses.

It is a symbol of the Rabbitfolk’s tribal chief, and legend has it that it was forged out of the first magical plant that the first Rabbitfolk tribal chief had grown: the Yamallante Hollow Bamboo.

One should mention here that despite the grandness of that name, it actually was nothing special aside from a simple sign of identity.

At the moment, there was unconcealed weariness on the tribal chief’s face who clearly had not slept well for a long time. Even so, there was despair in his gaze when he spoke ever so determinedly. “Just hold on a little longer…”

Rangka watched the chief, hesitating to speak but eventually gritting his teeth to voice out what was in his heart. “Brother, us aside, the other tribesmen are never going to accept that if this continues!”

“Are we really not going to show fealty to the Grayclaw tribe? Even if we are weak and couldn’t fight, we remain one of the three oldest nonhuman races—if we submit, they would act in our best interest even if it’s in the name of our forebears! Even if we couldn’t return to our old lands, settling down on some fertile soil would still be better than this hell!”

“Rangka, I will let this go once because I understand your concern for the tribe. But never mention a word about swearing fealty anymore.” The Rabbitfolk chief—Rangka elder brother warned severely. “The Grayclaw tribe is no longer what they once were! We definitely must never join their ilk, let alone bend the knee before them! Even if our tribe might not die just to avoid slavery, we at least mustn’t submit to those who had given up on the glory of their ancestors!”