Episode 53 Slave of the Savage Tribe (2)

Aiyen, a Balak warrior and the daughter of a chieftain.

She spoke to Vikir in front of her.

Get down.

Was she trying to make the hierarchy clear?

But it didnt sound like that was her intention.

Because.

Pfft.

Vikir felt a blast of air coming toward him.

At the same time.

Pot!

Aiyen yanked on the leash around Vikirs neck.

As Vikir ducked, a thin arrow grazed the back of his head and struck the ground with a thud.

Aiyen shouted.

You boys, cant you go practice somewhere else!

Then a rustling sound came from beyond the bushes, and a group of young children came running.

Each one had a bow and arrow in his hand.

.

Vikir lifted his head again and looked at Aiyen in front of him.

The girl shaking off the water in front of her.

The girl hed rescued from the slave auction before.

Aiyen said to Vikir.

Were spheres, right?

Vikir, judging his Balak skills to be better than Aiyens, spoke up.

I see again.

Aiyens eyes widened at the sound of the Balak language coming out of Vikirs mouth.

Do you speak Balak?

A little.

She walked to stand in front of Vikir, eyes wide with wonder.

She wore only a few short deer skins around her body, but she showed no sign of shame.

Aiyen stepped up to stand in front of Vikir.

We were grateful then. We will repay your favor twice and your vengeance tenfold.

.

You saved me once, so I will save you twice.

.

I never thought youd try to fight her, I ran away and came back just in case.

Certainly, Vikir would have been killed by Madame Eight-Legged, the Dark One, if the noose thrown by Aiyen had not been caught around his neck in time to pull him back.

So what was the other time?

When Vikir looked at him as if demanding an explanation, the corners of Aiyens eyes drew arcs like those of a fox.

Did you not see it on the way here?

She pointed beyond the bushes to the acrid column of smoke rising from the village.

Vikir thought of the prisoners hed met along the way.

Perhaps she would share a similar fate.

Perhaps it was the Aiyen in front of him who had prevented it.

If so, that begged a more fundamental question.

Why did he let me live?

Was it simply to repay a favor? If so, there would be no reason for him to throw the noose around his neck in the first place.

And Aiyen was not the only one who wanted to put a noose around Vikirs neck.

Every female warrior in Balak that day had her sights set on Vikirs neck.

As Aiyen sneaked a pizza at Vikir, he asked her bluntly.

Is this some kind of husband hunt or something?

Oh, you must have heard about it somewhere.

Its not just the Balak, most savages in the jungle kidnap their spouses from outside the tribe.

The idea is to avoid inbreeding and bring in fresh blood.

The Balak, of course, are a warrior tribe, so the physical strength of the abductee is a big factor.

Aiyen circled around Vikir once.

Like an appraiser assessing a prize.

In the meantime, Vikir had been thinking a lot.

What if they told the Baskervilles that they were alive, and they negotiated a hostage?

That would put a damper on their plans.

Their plan to stay off Hugos radar and build up their strength would be ruined.

But Vikir had worried for nothing.

They didnt seem to have any intention of interfering with him.

Aiyen glanced at Vikir and said.

Dont be mistaken. I am not like other women. I dont need a husband.

.

You have been captured to be used as a slave.

She wondered, but didnt say it out loud, if it had been necessary to throw the noose so desperately.

When Vikir remained still, Aiyen waved the dog collar in his hand.

You wont be able to pass for a man with that body anyway, so you might as well get used to life as a slave.

By nature, Balak women see nothing but breeding in the men they capture from the outside world.

If the man fails to fulfill his role as a male, they usually kill him, but fortunately (?) Aiyen doesnt seem to have the sense to do so.

Aiyen tossed his clothes to Vikir at the waters edge.

Vikir catches it, and the collar pulls taut.

Aiyen led the way back to the village.

You will live in front of my house and serve me.

Vikirs entire body screamed with each step, but he kept his mouth shut nonetheless.

The good news is that his body is recovering quickly, thanks to the power of Murcielago.

To Vikir, Aiyen gave his first order, briefly.

Lets get our titles straightened out.

Walking ahead, Aiyen paused at the entrance to the clan and looked back at Vikir.

He looked down and narrowed his eyes.

Call me master.

* * * https://pindangscans.com

Vikir descended again into the village of the Balak.

They lived freely in the dense jungle.

The concept of personal property seemed remote.

If you didnt have a place to sleep, you slept in a friends tent, and no one minded.

If they were hungry, they ate from people who had plenty of food, and they were happy to share.

There seemed to be a shared consciousness that everything comes and goes, so lets share while we have it.

They gathered at a friends house with a large tent, played merrily, and fell asleep.

Firewood, meat, and alcohol were shared generously, and there was no yamcha.

Even if they had been kidnapped from the outside, once they were recognized as members of the tribe, they could go anywhere and come anywhere.

All in all, a lively and friendly atmosphere.

But the skeletons of captives hanging from the thorn trees at the tribes boundary conveyed a different message.

This is Balaks clan, a land that is unforgiving to outsiders but endlessly friendly and free to insiders.

But within the clan, there is a dignified zone where even insiders are not allowed to roam.

Vikirs destination was one of those few places.

A large tent in the center of the village.

It looked like it could hold up to two dozen people, but even the children playing in front of it were not allowed to approach.

Passing warriors always bowed their heads in reverence toward the entrance of this tent.

Those grilling meat were careful to keep the smoke from wafting in this direction, and those preparing the entrails of their prey were careful to keep the scent of blood from drifting away.

The home of the chieftain.

Vikir guessed from the size of the tent.

Aiyen grabbed the leash around Vikirs neck and strode inside.

Mother.

Vikir could see the figure Aiyen sought.

Inside the tent, there was a chair with a large eagle carved into it, and a woman sitting cross-legged, reclining at an angle.

A grim expression, scars ovipositing over her body.

She wears a cloak and bottoms made of eagle feathers, and a long, large bow rests on a sceptre behind her back.

She wore a cloak of eagle feathers, with a long, large bow on her back.

Aquila, the current matriarch of the Balak.

Vikir knelt silently before her, drawn by Aiyens touch.

Vikir had already realized that the chieftainess real name was Night Fox, as she exuded a heavy presence before him.

The woman who had scarred the bridge of Heavenly Sword Saint Hugos nose.

Hadnt Adolph the Mad also been defeated by her and spent some time in the service?

Her presence was the reason why Baskerville and the Morg were unable to cross the border between the enemy and the Black Mountain.

After all, she had killed 16 Gradient-class swordsmen, 10 fourth-class mages, and 6 fifth-class mages in her short life.

All without a single wound!

She was also the one who had left arrowhead marks on the flanks of her enemies and the Black Mountain Demon Cerberus.

What if it was before the regression?

If I had been able to unleash the power of my prime, could I have faced this woman?

I would have had a 0% chance in a hand-to-hand fight, a 0% chance by assassination, and a 20% chance by running away.

That 20%, of course, is the chance of survival.

Vikirs thoughts turned to the woman in front of him.

After all, she was up against a Hugo or an Adolf, a top predator that she was no match for right now.

Meanwhile, Aquila glared down at Vikir in front of her.

Daughter, is this the Imperial male youve been drooling over?

No, when did I ever say that much but yes, he is.

Hmm. Hes younger than you, and I recognize his face.

Aquila squinted and looked at Vikir.

The gaze was like that of a top predator from a vastly superior vantage point, sizing up its lesser prey below.

All Vikir could do was keep his head down and avoid her gaze as much as possible.

Fortunately, Aquila didnt see any sign of Hugo on Vikir.

Hugo had strong lines, a square jaw, and a masculine appearance, while Vikir had more of his mothers features.

Aside from that, though, Aquila seemed to have a pretty good sense of Vikirs physical condition.

I see. What are you doing picking up a wasted man?

If you treat him well, hell be worth it. Hes the one who jumped on Madame Eightlegs.

Hmph. Yes, but rampaging without knowing your place will only get you in trouble.

Aquila said.

Sure. It doesnt matter if the body is broken or not, as long as the seeds are intact.

Aah! Mother, thats not it, hes going to be used as a slave!

What? But isnt that the purpose youve been telling me all along.

Whoa, thats what it was originally intended for, a slave, I need one to help me hunt!

Aiyen quickly waved her hand to stop Aquilas words.

Aquila looked at her daughter with a puzzled expression, then nodded.

Well, so be it. It is your freedom to use your slave for whatever purpose you choose.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Aiyen bowed her head and tugged on Vikirs leash.

Once outside the tent, Aiyens expression was much stiffer than before.

Gone was the panicked flailing in front of his mother.

From now on, I will give you a mission.

Aiyen looked down at Vikir, who was only one head shorter than her, and spoke in a high-pitched voice.

It will be quite a task.

A pretty tough mission, indeed.