Crimson Star Tribe – At the Campfire
Clara lay quietly on the grass, the warmth of Enzo's palm pressed gently against her abdomen. A soft green glow pulsed from his hand, spreading warmth through her body.
At first, she had thought divine healing would feel harsh or intense—but instead, it was like the soft brush of fur from some gentle animal, curling through her insides. Strangely soothing. Strangely stirring.
Enzo murmured, "Don't move. Just hold still a little longer."
But the sensation was difficult to ignore. Clara wasn't unaccustomed to pain—she could endure wounds and hunger with a warrior's discipline. But this… this gentle, tingling warmth made her body flush and her breath quicken.
Ten minutes later, the divine energy faded.
Clara sat up slowly, her skin damp with sweat, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes met Enzo's, and for a moment, something passed between them—an unspoken understanding. Perhaps it was desire, perhaps something more. She leaned close, lips parted as if to speak.
Enzo stopped her with a quiet gesture. "Not here. Let's walk."
They slipped away to a secluded spot near the valley's edge, where shadows danced under the last golden light of dusk. What followed was not a clash of warriors, but something quieter, deeper—a shared moment that left them both breathless and still.
When they returned to camp later that evening, Clara walked at Enzo's side, leaning on him slightly. Her strength had not returned entirely—but her spirit burned bright, full of purpose.
Elsewhere in the Camp
Tia led the new combat team on basic drills, jogging the perimeter of the camp to familiarize them with the land. The members followed her in tight formation, determined not to falter under her watch.
Amy, meanwhile, had volunteered to assist in the pottery workshop. While she lacked combat ability, her hands were deft and steady. She worked alongside Brian, shaping clay with surprising precision, slowly gaining the admiration of the other craftsmen.
Though Amy had no formal title, she was viewed with quiet respect—everyone knew she was close to the priest, and her gentle demeanor made her approachable.
The Hunting Party Returns
Cheers echoed across the camp as Rhode and his hunting team returned, carrying two large double-horned zebras. The animals were powerful and lean—excellent prey.
That night, under Enzo's supervision, the tribe enjoyed their first stew made from fresh meat and potatoes cooked in clay pots. The smell filled the air, drawing smiles to weary faces. For many, it was the best meal they had ever tasted.
Enzo felt it again—the totemic power stirring inside him, stronger than before. Its growth had become consistent, even predictable. Every day, the tribe grew. And with it, he did too.
"If this continues," he thought, "I might be able to ripen an acre's worth of crops in one go before long."
A Report from the Hunt
Rhode approached with a bowl of stew but was waved off by Enzo.
"Eat. What did you find?"
"We came across another herd of dual-horned zebras," Rhode reported. "New arrivals—clashing with the herd we've tracked before. There are several young foals among them."
Enzo's eyes lit up. If the foals could be captured and tamed… perhaps mounted units weren't far off.
"Try to capture some," Enzo ordered. "But only if it's safe."
Rhode nodded, then summoned a hunter, who brought forth a young sapling—short, with waxy green leaves and a faint, sweet scent.
"A fruit tree," Rhode explained. "We found it near the riverbend."
Enzo took one look and saw the potential. It resembled an apple tree—but he wasn't certain.
"Good," Enzo said. "In future hunts, I want more than meat. Bring back saplings, seeds—anything useful."
More Growth, More Effort
That night, with Tia and several helpers, Enzo planted the new sapling within the camp's boundaries. They built a low stone enclosure around it and watered it carefully. When Enzo channeled Stimulate All Things, the tree only grew a centimeter taller.
Not a disappointment—but a reality check.
Fruit trees, even accelerated, would take time. Ripening grains and root crops was more efficient. Still, Enzo's power continued to grow, and with it, the possibilities.
Industrial Advances
Under Brian's management, pottery production flourished. The success rate rose to nearly fifty percent, and every tribe member was able to obtain their own vessel. Two large cooking pots were made specifically for stew, improving the quality of meals across the board.
The tribe's first brick house—constructed in the industrial zone—was finished by sunset.
Brian ran his hands over the wall in disbelief. "Lord Priest… did I really build this?"
Enzo, tired but amused, smirked. "You think I did it?"
Sovita arrived next, inspecting the structure and marveling aloud. "With walls like this, we could withstand attacks from wild beasts!"
Enzo shook his head. "Maybe wild beasts. But not the Boar King. Don't get overconfident."
Still, the success was a milestone. Brick production scaled up immediately. Brian's team dug deep into the clay-rich hillock and began producing materials for more homes and better defensive walls.
Agriculture Flourishes—Then Falters
Hunting parties returned with more than meat. They brought seeds—some familiar, others unknown. After some quick ripening using divine arts, the tribe had access to new vegetables.
But success brought new problems.
Water.
The stream in the valley could only support so much. Irrigation needs were growing, and the pond Sovita had ordered dug was nearly drained each day.
Enzo stood at the edge of the agricultural field, watching the trickle of water in the channel slow.
Another problem to solve.
But unlike before, he didn't feel overwhelmed.
Because now, for the first time, the tribe wasn't merely surviving.
They were building something.