Waiting until Thomas gradually calmed down from his emotions, Eric slowly recounted the events of the journey to him like an adventure story.
From picking up A Mat and Evan, to the fateful encounter with the Elf tribe, and then rescuing an entire Dwarf tribe from danger.
Who would have thought that this trip of the children would encounter so many interesting and thrilling events. Thomas pricked up his ears, listening without missing a single word.
Staying at the Red Grass tribe, he lived in constant fear every day, with no one to confide in, while these kids lived such a rich and comfortable life.
"Cubs are truly playful." Thomas shook his head, his voice a mix of affectionate blame and relief: "It’s fortunate that Eric picked them up; otherwise, they would have been eaten by magical beasts."
Thomas paused for a moment, then mused:
"Picked up a human too? Survived rough seas, wasn’t eaten by magical beasts... That guy seems extraordinary; he must have defensive magic equipment on him."
Eric tried to recall:
"I helped him change clothes, but didn’t see anything special on him, only a very ordinary-looking silver ring on his hand."
Thomas wasn’t knowledgeable about these things either, and his expression became serious:
"In short, we cannot be negligent. Human hearts are even more unpredictable than Black Wolves; absolutely do not let him run out of the tribe and reveal the matter of us refining salt."
Max nodded slightly, his voice reassuring:
"Eric already told Michael to be careful. When they patrol, they will supervise more; a human cannot run far."
Although kindness didn’t allow Eric to see death without helping, the bloody lessons from countless stories he had heard taught him that one absolutely could not easily trust a stranger met on the road. Therefore, before setting off, he had specifically instructed Michael and Grass. Both of them were very careful; entrusting them to watch over Evan made Eric very relieved.
Hearing Eric finish recounting the process of meeting the Dwarves, Thomas remained silent for a long time, then let out a heavy sigh.
"Dwarves are not good at fighting, and on this Illusion Continent, the only thing not lacking is magical beasts. Even we beastmen find it hard to survive; every year, many small tribes are wiped out."
Mentioning these matters, Thomas’s voice became heavy, tinged with painful memories:
"A few years ago, the Queen tribe was almost completely destroyed by a rank-seven Roaring Wind Lion. Luckily, Karin arrived in time to reinforce them; warriors from both tribes joined forces to barely chase it away."
The air in the house suddenly thickened.
"Even so," he continued, "the Queen tribe suffered heavy losses, with many tribe members dead, among whom... there were even children."
Max also knew about this.
It was during a harsh winter, and Thomas’s tribe had to deduct a portion of their food reserves to aid them. But since then, the Queen tribe’s strength declined rapidly; Kon’s tribe was nearby, so they frequently had to send warriors to help.
Even the powerful Snow Wolves had to face such fierce circumstances; it wasn’t strange for Dwarves to face extinction. It was just that the reality still made one sigh with emotion.
Eric also sighed along:
"Beastmen live by hunting, and their settlements are too scattered; communication is also too inconvenient."
He unconsciously thought, if it were like modern times, just a phone call or a text message for help, with the Snow Wolves’ speed, the outcome wouldn’t have been so tragic.
Thomas raised his rough hand, gently stroking Eric’s head; his usually stern eyes now held a trace of sorrow.
"When the Golden Lion tribe allied with other tribes to establish the kingdom, besides being lured by the Black Wolves, I also once hoped... hoped to gather beastmen together, like the Ox-Head tribe. After our strength grew, we wouldn’t have to fear the threat of high-level magical beasts anymore. It’s a pity..."
His voice choked up.
It was in that battle that they trusted the wrong people, becoming pawns for the Golden Lion tribe’s ambition, causing countless Snow Wolf warriors to lose their lives on the battlefield. Other tribes also had deaths, but only the Snow Wolves suffered such catastrophic casualties because they were stabbed in the back by their Black Wolf allies.
This was also why, in the beastman world, the Golden Kingdom had such a bad reputation. Their goals went against the interests of the majority of tribes.
The original owner’s father also sacrificed himself in that fateful battle. His mother was lucky to survive but eventually passed away due to severe injuries.
Eric’s emotions were also dragged down by this heavy atmosphere. Although they weren’t his biological parents, upon occupying this body, he seemed to also inherit the pains etched deep in its memories.
Seeing his complexion drop, Max silently took a white fruit from the cloth bag at his waist and gave it to him. They were ginkgo nuts they had picked by the sea, stored in the cellar so they were still fresh.
The cool sweetness of the ginkgo spread in his mouth, improving Eric’s mood a little. He looked at Thomas, who was deep in thought, and said:
"Then if we succeed in farming and can feed our tribe members ourselves, could we gather together to live like the Ox-Head tribe?"
"Actually, when Max first told me about farming, I thought the same, which is why I agreed." Thomas replied thoughtfully: "Only, we Snow Wolves are not like the Ox-Head tribe. In their tribe, the majority are vegetarians, while we... ultimately cannot leave hunting behind."
Hearing this, Eric’s spirits immediately lifted. Wasn’t this the time for his animal husbandry plan to shine!
His eyes lit up, and he slapped his thigh with a smack, his voice full of excitement:
"Actually, I’ve also thought about this problem! Relying only on hunting is too passive; not to mention other things, just in winter alone, it’s very hard to eat fresh meat. I want to start trying to raise white rabbits, wild chickens, and wild ducks next year. Don’t look at their small size; their reproduction speed is extremely fast. The bran from the grains we grow, and the bean dregs left after making tofu can all be fed to them."
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. Eric gestured wildly, painting a bright prospect:
"Especially white rabbits! If there are no natural predators, they can give birth to several litters a year, and one litter is already a dozen. Will we still worry about having no meat to eat in the future? The more people there are, the more rabbits we can raise, and the more food we can grow. Isn’t this killing two birds with one stone!"
Thomas listened intently, occasionally nodding, but hesitation was still clearly visible on his face.
"It’s just that... we have never farmed, nor have we ever... raised animals. What if..." He said worriedly.
Actually, Eric was just a "keyboard warrior," but he had the successful experience of predecessors to refer to, so he was very bold and eager to try.
"Let’s try farming and raising animals ourselves for a year first! If there are results, we can lead other Snow Wolves to do the same. Those who succeed first will show those who follow; gradually, we will no longer have to rely solely on hunting to live!"
Eric always had sayings that sounded strange at first but made a lot of sense. This time was no exception; he successfully persuaded Thomas.
He was silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, his tense expression completely relaxing. He patted Eric’s small head:
"Alright, let’s do as you say! Actually, I don’t need to think so much anyway; after all, you are the patriarch now! Hahaha!"
Eric froze for a few seconds, then his shoulders slumped.
That’s right, the responsibility all belonged to him now. If both raising animals and farming failed, it would be trouble; the tribe members would have to follow him to drink the Northwest wind... And he had never actually put his hands to doing it either.
Seeing his crestfallen look, Max couldn’t help but laugh; he spoke up to comfort him:
"Don’t worry, as long as there is enough food, it should be easy to raise them. Even if it doesn’t succeed, we can try a few more times, and we will learn how."
A burst of loud, hearty laughter suddenly rang out, interrupting Eric’s train of thought.
He looked up, only to see Thomas laughing so hard he was leaning forward and backward.
"Cubs shouldn’t make that old-man face!" Thomas said while laughing: "During the time you guys were gone, the Ox-Head tribe agreed to send people to teach us farming. That guy Bi ran over every day to see if you guys were back yet."
It turned out the Ox-Head tribe had become obsessed with tofu.
Unfortunately, as soon as Eric left, the other Snow Wolves didn’t know how to make it solidify; Bi at most only learned how to grind soy milk. The few Ox-Head tribe members who had tasted it went everywhere bragging about the deliciousness of tofu and tofu pudding, making the others unbearably curious.