The following morning.
Enzo stirred as the sunlight filtered through the thicket, waking to the quiet warmth of Tia nestled against him, her simple animal-hide garments resting in a pile nearby.
Unable to help himself, he gently pinched the soft curve of her thigh. "You're a dangerous little temptress," he murmured.
Tia, sensing his touch, blinked awake.
"Morning, Enzo," she said with a sleepy smile. "I'll get breakfast started. What do you feel like eating?"
But food was far from Enzo's mind. After the intense night with Tia and sleeping out in the brush, he felt sticky and uncomfortable.
He asked, "Is there a place around here where I can clean up?"
She nodded and said simply, "Come with me."
After slipping back into her clothing, Tia guided him through the undergrowth.
They arrived shortly at a spring-fed pond, nestled between two modest hills behind the camp. The water was cold, its clarity betraying its mountain origin. That didn't deter Enzo in the least.
The day before, Enzo had chosen to accept the priestly inheritance as Sovita had proposed. The process was surprisingly smooth.
Not only did he gain a divine spell, but his physical prowess had taken a notable leap.
By his own judgment, he now matched warriors like Rhode and Anse in strength and agility, though he still lacked the battlefield instinct they possessed.
But that would come in time.
After all, when he finally stepped in as the tribe's priest, it would likely be during a moment of crisis.
Letting the swirling thoughts drift from his mind, Enzo dove into the icy pond. He focused inwardly on the symbol etched in his mind—the totem mark now fully his. A detailed leaf, veins branching outward like a network of power.
"Stimulate All Things," he whispered.
That was the name of the divine spell—capable not only of healing wounds, but also enhancing life itself, pushing growth in animals and plants alike.
Its possibilities lit a fire inside him.
He already had a strategy forming to fully harness its power.
Just then, he felt movement in the water beside him.
Tia had returned, bringing a piece of hide from the camp and a handful of soapberries. She leapt into the water beside him. "Use these," she said, handing him the fruits. "They leave a sweet scent."
He gave her a nod, signaling her to continue.
But something didn't feel right. Tia's hands were mischievous, lingering in places they shouldn't—teasing under the pretense of washing.
Eventually, Enzo lost patience. He pulled her close, pressing her against him. What followed stirred ripples across the water.
With their stamina bolstered by their newfound strength, their embrace lasted well into the morning.
By the time they returned, the midday meal was already underway. Smoke drifted from roasting meat, but the scent turned Enzo's stomach.
Tia, noticing his discomfort, explained, "We normally eat twice a day—morning and night—but yesterday's wild boar hunt brought in too much meat. It'll spoil fast if we don't finish it."
That gave Enzo pause.
The tribe's food supply was unstable. More troubling was the absence of preservation methods.
Currently, the Crimson Star Tribe relied on two hunting teams and a vanguard unit.
The hunting groups were made up of a few warriors and about a dozen strong tribesmen, scouring the forest for game.
The vanguard, by contrast, operated over much broader territory, keeping tabs on other tribes and changes in the wildlife. Their missions often lasted over two weeks.
Heru, the Crimson Star Tribe's strongest fighter, led the vanguard.
Though summer was just beginning, the air was thick with humidity—perfect for meat to rot. And with so much excess wild boar, the risk of disease increased. Enzo didn't like it.
He went to find Sovita immediately.
By coincidence, Sovita had also been seeking him.
Upon meeting, the elder priest spoke first, "Lord Enzo, once the hunting team returns, we'll hold the inheritance ceremony. You will be officially named our priest—the Crimson Star Tribe's new leader!"
Enzo raised a brow. "That soon?"
Sovita offered a smile. "You've already absorbed the priest's wisdom and require no further instruction. Tradition says you are already our priest. The ceremony is merely a formality—to let the tribe see your greatness."
But beneath his words, Sovita held a concern.
A talent like Enzo's would not go unnoticed by other tribes. Exile or not, someone like him could be accepted anywhere.
Securing his allegiance now was crucial.
And with Enzo showing no resistance, Sovita exhaled in relief.
Just then, the hunting party returned.
Rhode and Anse led the group, dragging several young wild boars and a captured girl with fox ears and a matching tail.
They beamed. "Lord Enzo, these are the spoils we've brought for you!"
Sovita stepped forward, eyes wide.
Two piglets stood out among the rest. "These... these are the offspring of the Fangtusk King! That explains the aggression in the herd—their young were nearby."
Enzo nodded, his gaze shifting to the fox girl.
She remained silent, her limbs bound, her body marred with bruises. Her once-white tail was soiled and matted, and the scraps of hide covering her offered little dignity.
"What's your name?" Enzo asked.
She gave no reply, her eyes downcast.
Sovita intervened. "She's an exile. For now, we should secure her in the cave. With the hunting team back, the priesthood ceremony can begin."
Enzo gave a short nod. "And the piglets—keep them fed. I'll decide what to do with them later."
"Yes, Lord," Sovita replied.
Once the fox girl and piglets were locked away, Sovita gathered the tribe at the sacrificial square. A large cut from the wild boar king's haunch was placed before the sacred brazier.
With a solemn air, Sovita painted the five stone pillars with the beast's blood and declared, "The inheritance ceremony begins! Enzo shall take up the mantle as priest and lead the Crimson Star Tribe to strength and glory!"
A roar of voices rose, echoing through the trees.
The tribe chanted Enzo's name, their faces alight with fervor.
Enzo took the bone staff from Sovita's hands and raised it high. He touched the fire basin gently. Flames sprang up—controlled, measured—held to the level expected of a priest.
He had Sovita to thank for that reminder.
Nearby tribes were always watching. Revealing too much might invite destruction.
In this world, power was dangerous. And priests were the heart of a tribe's strength.
A strong priest in a rising tribe could spell trouble for others.
The only way to survive here… was to outlast everyone else.
What the people saw, though, was a brighter flame than before—a sign of growing strength. Their cheers grew louder, more frenzied.
The celebration continued for over half an hour, and at last, the ceremony was complete.
Sovita's weathered face showed a rare smile. The burden was no longer his alone. A new leader stood ready.
But just as the smile settled, it froze.