I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 850 – Did We Hit Them Too Hard?
As the shout to release the arrows rang out, Shang released the fully drawn bow in his hands. With the tremble of the bowstring, the feathered arrows flew toward those chaotic, screaming people charging headlong at their tribe.
In the Green Sparrow Tribe, the bow and arrow were the most basic weapons, and everyone had to learn to use them.
Except for the elderly Shaman, very young children, and slaves who were usually forbidden to touch weapons, everyone could draw a bow and shoot.
Even Shang, who usually wielded a long spear, now drew his bow.
Of course, being able to use a bow and being highly accurate with it were very different things—but in this situation, the difference didn’t matter.
Too many attackers were charging forward, so aiming precisely wasn’t necessary.
The other prepared members of the tribe, upon Shang’s command, also released their arrows. In an instant, sixty or seventy feathered arrows rained down.
The slaves of the Green Sparrow Tribe who couldn’t use bows grabbed stones and hurled them fiercely at the oncoming crowd.
Some even threw sharpened wooden sticks, functioning like javelins.
After one round of attacks, a dozen or so attackers fell rolling to the ground, howling in pain. In the chaos, the screams sounded piercingly sharp.
Only after being trampled by countless feet did some begin to realize—this tribe was far more challenging than they had imagined!
Others felt bitter resentment. They had almost reached the edge of the tribe, yet that beautiful life they had imagined was slipping away.
“Release arrows! Release arrows! Kill them!”
Shang shouted, rereleasing his bow.
The other Green Sparrow Tribe members either shouted while shooting like Shang or silently drew arrows, focusing intently on their aim.
“Die! Die!”
Some muttered quietly, hatred in their voices, their movements clean and precise.
As the attacks continued, arrows from the walls rained down like a storm.
“Thud!”
One attacker, running with a stone raised to throw at the tribe above the walls, was impaled in the stomach by a flying javelin.
The spear pierced completely, propelled with enormous force.
Severe pain surged through the attacker’s body, making her convulse. The stone she had been preparing to throw dropped and hit her foot.
At that moment, she realized that achieving such a life wasn’t easy. Merely having numbers wasn’t enough to guarantee survival or victory.
Feeling the intense pain in her abdomen and her strength fading, fear nearly swallowed her entirely.
She deeply regretted her actions.
Her previous life, gathering fruits with the tribe and occasionally hiding in the grass when meeting other tribes, had actually been quite good.
She tried to turn around, to leave and return to her old life.
But before she could, someone collided with her.
Others, shouting, rushed forward, desperate to reach the seemingly dreamlike life.
She wanted to warn them to stop and return, but before she could open her mouth, a foot stomped on her face, shutting it again. Her eyes gradually lost color.
Amidst this, the cries of pain continued. Sharp attacks struck people and fell screaming…
“#4W!”
Hearing the continuous screams, watching those falling to the ground, some finally regained clarity under the threat of death.
A former leader who had followed the Black Stone Tribe against the Bark Tribe shouted, signaling his people to stop and not rush forward. He even stepped back himself.
Some tried to retreat, but others, eyes red with excitement or anger, refused.
“%#45!”
A thin man, his face marked with untreated frostbite, waved his wooden stick and shouted, pushing forward with all his strength.
People around him fell screaming, but he didn’t notice. He kept urging his tribe forward.
Last winter, an early freeze had devastated their tribe. Over half had died, and the survivors had lived off those who had perished.
Every day, some died of cold and hunger, and the remaining survived on the bodies of the dead…
He never wanted to experience that again.
If this winter came early again, he thought the entire tribe—including himself—would die.
Not wanting that, he ran faster.
This tribe ahead had everything beautiful. If they could reach it, they’d never suffer again.
“Pfft!”
On the wall, someone noticed this fast runner and shot an arrow at him.
The arrow pierced his arm, sending waves of pain through him. His stick fell, but he neither retreated nor bent to pick it up. He continued sprinting toward the Green Sparrow Tribe’s walls.
Almost there!
Just a little farther!
He thought to himself.
“Thud!”
A fist-sized stone slammed into his leg, making him fall uncontrollably.
He didn’t scream. Gritting his teeth, eyes bloodshot, he staggered up and continued toward the wall.
Moments later, bloodied hands touched the wall. A smile of relief crossed his face, as if he had already achieved everything he desired.
But that relief lasted only a moment. The reality was harsh: reaching the base of this cliff-like cave wasn’t enough—they still had to climb it.
Looking up at the vertical walls, despair filled his eyes.
Exhausted from the run, he had no strength left to scale it.
A stone suddenly fell from above, and he slipped silently along the wall’s edge.
A streak of blood marked the stone wall.
A Green Sparrow Tribe member spat at him from above, then picked up a heavy stone to hurl at another approaching person.
These massive stones were meant to crush anyone near the walls. Their force exceeded that of arrows.
Ideals are grand, but reality is harsh. Even in this prehistoric world, this applied.
Arrows, stones, and javelins rained down from the high stone walls, killing many and sending a bloody lesson to the rash attackers.
Finally, the hot-headed attackers began to regain clarity.
Witnessing companions wounded or killed, smelling blood, hearing screams, they realized not everything goes as desired.
They also recognized the gap between ideals and reality.
At the rear, the Black Stone Tribe leader, who was commanding the attack, hadn’t ordered anything yet. The previously chaotic attackers, now seeing the danger, stopped and retreated.
The darkened Copper Mountain residential area loomed ahead, walls blending with the mountains, appearing massive and insurmountable.
It stood imposingly, pressing down on the land and on everyone’s hearts.
The sight of the strange walls and the figures standing atop them was overwhelming.
The Green Sparrow Tribe’s defenses had delivered a shocking blow, leaving attackers stunned.
The Grass Tribe members, witnessing the carnage, felt both relief and fear. If their leader hadn’t restrained them, some would already be dead.
Observing the losses and their leader’s command, they respected her more. Though a woman, she was braver and wiser than many men.
Their tribe, under her guidance, lived better than many male-led tribes.
Shu Pi, watching the settlement like a small mountain, was shaken.
He didn’t know if this was the real Green Sparrow Tribe, but its combat strength far exceeded his memory.
Even the Green Sparrow Tribe, in his memory, would have been overwhelmed by such a furious, coordinated attack.
He felt a mix of joy and frustration—joy that the Black Stone Tribe had encountered a strong opponent, possibly dying and fulfilling his own wishes, but frustration that it wasn’t the actual Green Sparrow Tribe, ruining his previous plans.
“#￥@3!”
The Black Stone Tribe leader, scowling, ordered his people to retreat to a safer location before considering how to attack this new tribe.
He now took the enemy seriously—this tribe, with so many resources, was clearly formidable.
The stunned attackers no longer spoke of staying overnight in the settlement.
Hearing the leader’s order, all followed him back, some moving quickly out of fear of an ambush.
A short battle had left a deep impression, erasing their arrogance.
On the walls, seeing the retreating enemies, Shang and the others began to feel a twinge of regret.
Had they struck too hard? If these people escaped, would it be a missed opportunity?
Yet Shang gave no order to pursue. The night was dark, and the enemy’s numbers were too great.
With the Copper Mountain residential area developing copper and tin, cultivating more land, and welcoming the Wind Tribe and Neighboring Wind Tribe, the population had grown.
Including slaves and citizens, there were 124 adults and 211 people total, about one-fifth of the Green Sparrow Tribe’s total.
One hundred twenty-four adults were large for many tribes, yet still few compared to today’s attackers.
Even with the previous battle inflicting heavy casualties, the enemy likely numbered around 400, primarily adults, some near adulthood.
Shang wasn’t worried about losing. Beyond 50 slaves, the remaining 70+ trained Green Sparrow citizens, fully armed, could defeat them without the slaves’ involvement.
But Shang wouldn’t risk it. Doing so would cause unnecessary deaths.
To protect their home, the tribe wouldn’t hesitate to fight, but they wouldn’t recklessly sacrifice lives.
The Divine Child had taught them: one life from their tribe isn’t worth trading for a hundred from the enemy. Every life is precious.
Now wasn’t the time for such desperation; Shang wisely refrained from reckless assault.
Moreover, defeating such a large group would allow many to flee, which Shang and the citizens didn’t want.
Initially, the tribe had only cared about driving off enemies. But their misguided Divine Child had instilled a sense of strict justice: enemies must not escape—they should become slaves to atone.
The slaves especially didn’t want these people to leave—if they escaped, how could they earn citizenship faster?
“You women, cook the food. Eat some first, then bring it to the walls—we’ll eat up here.”
Shang instructed, ensuring the defenders had enough energy.
He also had people make straw balls bound with dry stalks for hurling.
These straw balls were sent to the walls.
Copper Mountain, like the main Green Sparrow Tribe, had planted iron thorn barriers around the perimeter, leaving a 6–7 meter gap at the gate.
These barriers, which had grown over the years, covered most of the stone walls, reducing critical defense points.
Once the straw balls were ready, Shang lit one using a simple fire stick and threw it outside.
The straw balls, containing stones, flew far. The burning fireball traced a bright arc in the night, rolling and scattering sparks upon landing.
The fire almost went out but reignited slowly.
The burning balls illuminated the area outside, revealing any intruders sneaking under the cover of darkness.
Seeing this worked, Shang smiled, pleased with his clever solution. He planned to teach it to the Divine Child and Shamans for use in the main tribe.
In the distance, flickering lights indicated intruders making fires.
Shang cursed: “Those damned people!”
He recognized that they had lit fires in a field of sprouting grain—destroying precious crops.
Others on the walls cursed too.
Shang suddenly realized a terrifying thought: what if they came in autumn, when the grain was ripe? A fire, then, would drive him mad. He could easily kill them and feed on them.
After a while, food began being sent to the walls.
The women and children didn’t eat first; they brought the meals immediately.
Men, having worked all day and now defending the tribe, should eat first.
Shang accepted a meal from a child, sipping soup and savoring the flavor.
He then ate heartily, watching the distant fires, thinking of ways to keep as many attackers as possible from escaping…