I Became the Progenitor Vampire-Chapter 226 - 227: The Tragic Continuation of the Race, All for Survival

Chapter 226: Chapter 227: The Tragic Continuation of the Race, All for Survival

In the barren wilderness deep within the Far Mountain Range, there lies a valley shrouded by clouds and fog all year round.

Within a small city capable of accommodating three thousand people…

“Clan Leader Rabi, there’s still no information about Prince Anakin…”

Masi Hammer stood behind the Dwarf King, his expression filled with dejection.

The king of the Dwarf Tribe—Rabiao Hammer—now gazed solemnly through the window of his modest thatched hut at the Dwarves moving ores on the street outside.

This city had been built by the hands of Dwarves.

Dense fog, hundreds of blades thick, perpetually concealed the valley below from the skies, such that even the Double-legged Flying Dragons of the Beastman could not detect this massive, ten-kilometer-wide valley inhabited by a group of Dwarves unless they descended to a certain distance.

But now, this city, which could hide from external enemies, was no longer in the hands of Dwarves.

Rabiao’s brows were furrowed, his hands braced against the window, the veins on the backs of his hands prominently displayed.

The most noticeable figures on the streets outside were not the Dwarves, but the tall, ferocious-looking Beastmen.

Now, the Beastmen were the masters of Dwarf Valley. These hot-tempered creatures would whip any slow-moving Dwarf viciously with their long whips upon discovery.

Slave—a term that Rabi felt an indescribable humiliation in uttering.

But the Dwarves were now the slaves of the Beastmen!!

At this thought, a suppressed fury flickered through the eyes of Rabiao, clad in his black feather coat.

They were the great Barbarian Hammer Tribe, possessing the noble bloodline of the Dwarf royal family. Yet now, a group of filthy and contemptible Beastmen dared to enslave them.

This was a disgrace etched into their very bloodline!

The Beastmen would have to bear the wrath of the Dwarves!!

“Prince Anakin has Master Valen with him. I believe nothing too serious will happen to them. Has the team made contact with the Copper Hammer Tribe in the south yet?” Rabi turned his head and looked at Masi with a piercing gaze.

“No one can trample on the dignity of Dwarves with impunity! I will make these Beastmen taste the rage of the Dwarves!”

Looking into Rabi’s intense eyes, Masi suddenly fell silent.

“King, the Copper Hammer Tribe relocated two hundred years ago; we still need time to locate them…”

Upon hearing this response, disappointment flashed in Rabi’s eyes. The Copper Hammer Tribe was the nearest Dwarf Tribe to them, boasting a population of fifty thousand.

Dwarves were an entirely militarized battle race; every Dwarf was a strong heavy infantry with formidable strength.

Moreover, the Copper Hammer Tribe had 3,000 giant-horned goat cavalry and 500 Dwarf War Cars—their power was sufficient to launch a large-scale war.

If the Copper Hammer Tribe knew of the Barbarian Hammer Tribe’s plight, Rabi believed they would dispatch a strong army to declare to the world that Dwarves will not tolerate invasion.

The once most powerful Dwarf Kingdom, destroyed by Abyss Demons tens of thousands of years ago, had only been reestablished near the Storm Sea in the Barbaric Stone Mountains ten thousand years ago.

After tens of thousands of years of dispersal, Glories of the Main Plane were now full of the vestiges of Dwarves, with countless tribes similar to the Barbarian Hammer Tribe.

The Dwarf Kingdom of the Barbaric Stone Mountains was too far from them. Even if they traveled by boat, it would take nearly half a year to reach, leaving no chance for reinforcements.

Therefore, Rabi could only turn his attention to the Copper Hammer Tribe, which was closer to them.

“The relocation of the Copper Hammer Tribe was too sudden, we didn’t even realize they had moved until a year after, when we went to their garrison and found them gone,”

Masi began to explain. “But at the time, we didn’t take it seriously. After looking for a while and not finding them, we gave up.

Now, trying to find them again…” He didn’t finish his sentence and just shook his head with a wry smile.

There was one stubborn fault within Dwarf Tribes: although they were remarkably united against external enemies, they looked down upon each tribe that shared a different surname.

Instead of forging kinship ties, they preferred to stay underground, mining and forging weapons.

So it was that they didn’t discover the opposing race had moved their settlement until a year later.

“Don’t give up the search, the Copper Hammer Tribe is currently the only reinforcement we have; the other Dwarf Tribes are too far away,” Rabiao shook his head, his eyes flickering with contemplation.

“At the same time, if we can’t get in touch with Prince Anakin and Master Valen, send out other Dwarves to search for allies.

We must not relax in our search for Dwarf Tribes, and we cannot give up on contacting allies.

We need the support of external forces.”

“Yes, my king,” Massi hammered his chest firmly with his hand.

At that moment, a towering figure of 2.2 blades in height entered from outside the house.

The massive lion’s head revealed the identity of the visitor, the king of the Beastman Tribe—the Lion-man Clan.

The golden fur on the Lion-man was majestic, like that of a lion, and he wore a half set of dark-patterned armor that clearly was the product of Dwarf craftsmanship.

His deep blue eyes were filled with a sense of oppression, and his hands were not those of a human but the claws of a wild animal.

“King of the Dwarves, next month we need you to forge 5,000 sets of armor and 5,000 weapons…”

The Beastman King’s tone in the common language of Glory was commanding and brooked no argument.

Massi looked at the Beastman King with anger in his eyes and bellowed, “Greedy Beastman!! Impossible!!

The Dwarf Tribes do not have such a formidable forging capacity; the 3,000 sets of armor forged this month have already exhausted all the ore from our stockpiles!

At most 2,000 sets!! And for weapons, only 1,000 can be provided!”

Cap Lion shook his head with a mocking expression.

“Dwarf, this is not a negotiation; this is an order!”

After saying this, he turned his head to look at the Dwarf King Rabiao, who, despite being enslaved, still had an extraordinary bearing under his black feathered cloak.

“King of the Dwarves, I hope you recognize the reality that the Dwarves are now my slaves. If you wish to receive better treatment, strive to cooperate.”

After speaking, he gave Rabiao a meaningful glance.

“Don’t even think of pulling any tricks under the eyes of the Beastmen, Dwarf King. You’re a smart man; I trust you’ll choose the correct path.”

The Beastman King then waved his hand and left the dark and dilapidated old thatched cottage.

Only two Dwarves with very ugly expressions were left inside the house.

Massi fell into silence upon witnessing this scene.

The Dwarves now had no room to resist.

Rabiao violently threw off the black feathered cloak he was wearing on the ground, revealing his burlap clothes underneath which were bound with dozens of Magic Prohibition Chains.

Lips slightly pale, a cold light flashed in Rabiao’s eyes, but the Dwarf King didn’t speak another word.

Only the weak wail and complain helplessly; the Dwarves would pay back the humiliation with their blood.

————————

After the Beastman King Cap turned and left the house, another figure just as tall and imposing as Cap came out from another house, his demeanor cruel and chilling, tinged with an air of slaughter.

He wore mottled grey beast hides, and his muscular and scarred body subtly revealed itself in movement, with a giant tail swinging behind him.

Savage and primal.

The wolf skull on his head was a terrifying sight, his narrow, green eyes filled with murderous intent, and sharp tusks protruded menacingly from his mouth.

This was one of the noble warriors of the Beastman Tribe, a member of the powerful Strong Battle Race—the Werewolf Clan.

“My King, why don’t we kill this Dwarf King? His existence poses a great threat to us.”

Craig Shadow Hunter’s eyes were filled with confusion. The Dwarf King was the cornerstone of all Dwarves; as long as the Dwarf King lived, these Dwarves would never submit to the great Beastmen.

“No, Craig, the Dwarf King must not die, no one can die except for him!” Kapp turned his head, a glint of profundity flashing in his eyes.

“The Dwarves are so obedient because their King is commanding them.

Dwarves are not like Humans; they do not fear death, do not think you can treat them as you would the Humans.

Should anything happen to the Dwarf King, I swear to the great Hunting God, the Dwarves would rebel at all costs!

The only outcome would be great losses for us and annihilation for the Dwarves.”

As the King of the Beastman Tribe, Kapp saw things very clearly.

The stubborn nature of the Dwarves could not be dealt with through oppressive measures; the only way was to control their King and have the Dwarf King issue commands.

Death? These fools who would rather bury themselves in the earth while still alive and have heads full of rocks could not care less about it.

Craig nodded, no longer objecting. In matters of wisdom, the master of the Lion Tribe, Kapp, had never disappointed him.

“Craig, quickly finish forging the weapons and armor. We need to raid for more food during the Frost Month.”

Kapp spoke with a solemn tone, his expression extremely serious.

“Our food supplies will not sustain us through this winter.”

Craig’s eyes blazed with anger as he growled, “Those damned Human traders have raised the price of food again!!

It now takes a whole cowhide just to exchange for a sack of wheat!!

These greedy, filthy Human traders, I swear one day I will personally behead them with a knife!!”

Kapp’s expression also turned ugly upon hearing this. The barren wasteland was too poor, producing very limited food, and every cold winter season, a large number of Beastmen would starve to death.

Adding to this was the fact that Humans had always embargoed food sales to the Beastmen, exacerbating the situation.

Therefore, to feed more of their people, the Lion Tribe had been secretly buying food from Human smugglers.

But those greedy Human traders had become utterly ruthless, even demanding a whole Demon Beast hide for a sack of wheat worth a few silver puke.

He knew that in the Human world, a Demon Beast hide could be exchanged for dozens of sacks of wheat.

But after Frost Month, the borders would be sealed by Humans, and without the armies dispatched by the Beastman Capital, they would be unable to break the Human army’s blockade, even if they could be considered a large tribe.

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So, to acquire more food, he could only trade the Demon Beast hides or other materials obtained by the Lion Tribe’s hunts with those fearless Human traders.

These items were useless in their own hands; better to exchange them for some food.

“Did we finish tallying the secret food storage we discovered in that new Dwarf Tribe yesterday? How much food was stored there?”

Suddenly remembering something, Kapp asked with a hint of anticipation.

“My King, the food from the Dwarf Tribe will only last three thousand of our people for one month,” Massi shook his head, shattering Kapp’s hopes completely.

With a population of fifteen thousand, this amount of food would only last them a few days.

The Beastmen, like the Dwarves, were a race of warriors, easily able to muster armies of tens of thousands.

“Now, how much food do we have in storage?”

“After raiding the Dwarves, enough for our people for two months.”

Two months??

Kapp took a deep breath, feeling the weight of a heavy stone pressing on his chest.

It was August, the time for storing food, yet this year, for some reason, the herds on the barren wasteland had dramatically decreased, often leaving their hunting parties returning empty-handed.

Without hunting any meat, and unable to trade furs with human merchants, in previous years they could have stored three, even four months’ worth of food by now; this year, however, their harvest was meager.

Now they could only store enough food for two months, even after they had plundered the Dwarf Clan and obtained a significant supplementation of their resources.

The scarcity of food this year made him sense a great crisis.

The Frost Month was just ahead, and he didn’t want to see his people buried because they had lacked food.

“Increase the intensity of our hunts, send out more of our people, we need food…,” the voice of the Beastman King was very somber.

As a level 18 powerful warrior, Kapp felt profoundly distressed at being unable to meet the most basic food needs of his people.

“I don’t want to see, this winter, the elderly and the injured warriors once again walk into the wasteland alone…”

In the Frost Month, what could be the reason for someone to tread into the snow-laden wilderness alone, if not seeking death?

Craig’s massive werewolf head turned slightly to gaze at the clouds above the valley, his eyes dimming somewhat.

No one wished their people to die from lack of food, but such were the harsh rules of survival in the barren wasteland.

Food was always scarce; to survive, you had to fight for it. If you failed to contest, then the last of the food had to be reserved for the strongest warriors in the tribe.

Because they were the guarantee of the tribe’s continuation.

Cruel yet inevitable.

It was the survival of the race, with no reasoning to justify it.

This was also why the Beastmen plundered humans when the Frost Month arrived, fighting for the right to live irrespective of right or wrong, good or evil, only for the sake of survival.

“Additionally, try to contact more human merchants who can provide food, and if it really can’t be helped, consider selling some Dwarf-forged weapons in exchange for grain…,” Kapp’s voice was heavy, his Beastman Tribe lacking not just food but nearly everything—weapons, armor, salt, iron, and so on.

Being clueless about farming and ignorant of industrial development, the Beastmen has always lived a primitive and ancient life.

Craig opened his mouth as if to speak, but seeing the pain in Kapp’s eyes, he closed it again.

Weapons forged by Dwarves were crucial for the Lion Tribe now because only a third of the tribe’s army were armed with iron-made weapons and wearing armor.

The rest were covered in crude leather armor stitched from rhinoceros hide, with weapons made from wooden sticks and Demon Beast leg bones.

Primitive and backward.

In the barren wasteland, force was the only measure of survival.

But the lack of food was like a demon in the shadow, threatening to devour them at any moment.

Every decision was incredibly difficult.

“Understood, my King.”

“Go now, and take care of the Dwarf King; as long as he is fine, the Dwarf Tribe will not be in disarray.”

“As you wish.”

Kapp’s hands clenched tightly into fists, sharp claws retracting and flashing cold light, cutting gashes in his palms.

Blood splattered.

The mighty presence of this king of the Lion-man Clan made the surrounding Beastmen and Dwarves feel a sense of panic.

His profound gaze settled on the smoky valley above, his eyes carrying the weight of responsibility borne by a clan’s king, for the continuation of his tribe.

“No one, no one can stop the Lion Tribe from surviving, no one!!”