Su Xingyu returned to the Night Tribe with a massive stockpile of supplies, marking the beginning of a new wave of construction and development.
With the tribe's food stores now overflowing, morale soared. The abundance ignited a renewed passion for work among the people, while the superior equipment strengthened the warriors' resolve and loyalty.
In addition to accelerating the construction of infrastructure and training specialized soldiers, Su Xingyu initiated a critical new program. He established magical aptitude testing points throughout the tribe, aiming to identify children with high elemental affinity. Those who qualified were enrolled in the newly constructed schools, where they began with the basics—reading and writing.
He deliberately targeted the youth. Adults, having already formed rigid habits and limited learning potential, were no longer ideal candidates. In contrast, these young minds represented the future of magic for the Night Tribe.
The tribe's understanding of magic was still primitive. While a few self-proclaimed magicians existed, they were more akin to blind practitioners than true mages. They could cast spells, yes, but when asked about magical theory, they offered little more than shrugs.
"They say it was passed down from our ancestors. We don't know why it works, only that it does."
Su Xingyu found this maddening—but expected. After all, this was still a wild and untamed land.
He had no choice but to build a foundation from the ground up.
It would take years. Perhaps just a few, or maybe a dozen. It could even stretch into decades. Yet no matter how long the path, the Night Tribe had to walk it. Magic was not optional. It was essential.
An idealistic force doesn't need to dominate every domain, but it cannot afford glaring weaknesses.
Su Xingyu understood that cultivating magicians was not about immediate necessity, but about independence. Just like how he didn't rush to farm land—he could always import food from the City of Gods and send more workers to mine crystals instead. Ore, after all, was far more valuable than grain.
But what then? Live at the mercy of others?
No. That would mean surrendering control of his tribe's fate—and Su Xingyu refused to be controlled.
The Night Tribe must become self-sufficient, resilient across all sectors. It needed an internal cycle of resources. That went for the military as well, which had to be balanced with both elite warriors and powerful magicians.
This wasn't just a Su Xingyu problem. Most players faced similar constraints. Some lacked exceptional warriors. Others lacked magicians. Some, worse still, had neither.
It might seem like Su Xingyu trained his warriors easily, but that was only because of the numerous blood crystal veins near his territory. Other players weren't as lucky—some had just a single vein within a hundred-mile radius, making the idea of elite training a distant dream.
Even the best chef can't cook without rice.
No matter how bold your strategy, you still had to reckon with reality.
In truth, the Night Tribe lacked even the basic conditions for magical development. No local group had documented or formalized the practices of magic. Su Xingyu had essentially spent a fortune importing magical knowledge and infrastructure from other players' territories.
Millions of blood crystals were invested to lay the groundwork. Whether it would pay off was still uncertain.
As the Night Tribe solidified its position as the dominant power on the Black Soil Plains, the region fell into an unusual calm. In the past, food shortages would have triggered unrest, but not this time.
More and more tribes began migrating toward the Night Tribe. Some were willing to travel hundreds of miles just to pledge allegiance.
As development surged ahead, the seasons shifted. Winter had ended. Spring arrived—renewing the land and spirits alike.
Tribal members stepped out of their homes, staring in wonder at the sun rising over the horizon. The warmth of spring caressed their faces like a gift from another world.
"Winter is over already?"
Many found it hard to believe. The long, brutal cold seemed to vanish overnight.
In past winters, survival had been miserable. But this time was different. People were warm, fed, even gaining weight.
"Yes, winter is over," an old man sighed with emotion. "Joining the Night Tribe was the best decision of my life."
"I never thought I could live so well during the cold season."
Voices filled with disbelief and gratitude echoed across the village. It felt like a dream.
Dong, dong, dong!
The bell tolled in the distance, signaling the start of work.
"Oh no, I'm gonna be late!"
"If the captain catches me, I'm dead!"
"Move it! I'm just one day away from getting my perfect attendance award—ten kilograms of food!"
The crowd instantly scattered, feet pounding the ground as they rushed to their respective stations.
At the center of the tribe, in the chief's quarters, Su Xingyu leaned back after signing the last document. He could feel the surge of prayers coming from his followers, a sign that spring had truly arrived.
"If everything goes well," he muttered, "the Night Tribe will stay busy for a long time."
The winter had not been idle. The tribes absorbed during the previous months had now been fully integrated.
From the tone of their prayers, most had wholeheartedly accepted their new home.
Officially, the loyalty rating had reached seventy-five. These people were now willing to lay down their lives for the tribe.
It was time to expand again.
In truth, expansion had never stopped. Even during the coldest months, more tribes had joined, pushing the boundaries of Night Tribe territory further than ever.
But now, there were no more major forces left to conquer on the Black Soil Plains. Any future growth would require reaching beyond the known frontier.
Su Xingyu had no immediate plans for distant campaigns. First, he needed to eliminate the last threat in the region: the gnolls.
"Unifying the Red River gave me a massive reward package. I wonder... will unifying the Black Soil Plains grant something even better?"
The Red River was a fraction of the Black Soil Plains in size. If the system recognized his accomplishment here, the rewards could be monumental.
He had already resolved to crush the Gnoll Tribe, but he couldn't mobilize yet. His generals were still stationed on the Goblin Plane, training their forces.
Just as Su Xingyu prepared to check the information channel before turning in for the night, a sudden message flashed through his mind:
"Praise the King of Eternal Night. Your devout followers have eliminated all the goblins."
Su Xingyu chuckled, the timing almost uncanny.
"Now that's convenient."
Since their last major victory, he had paid little attention to that front—aside from rotating in fresh recruits. He'd assumed it would be another grueling campaign, one that dragged on for weeks.
But it ended far sooner than expected.
He closed his eyes. In the divine realm, a towering shadow stirred—eyes glowing in the void.
Through the sacred link of faith, the godlike figure turned its gaze upon the shattered battlefield of the Goblin Plane.
Victory had come.
And soon, the Night Tribe would rise even higher.