Chimaera's Conquest: The Legend Of The Devourer
Chapter 102: Chief (2)

Chapter 102: Chief (2)

A whole week had passed since Milka’s miraculous survival. Milka’s rescue sparked hope among the others that the other two missing people might be okay, too, so the tribe extended the search even further.

But despite the tribe’s best efforts, they never found a trace of them, as if the forest had devoured them. Finally, they had to drop the search and move on.

The families of the missing individuals clung to the hope that Milka might remember something about his friends. Still, given his health condition, there was no telling when and if he would ever remember about them.

Moreover, Milka’s father made it clear that his son’s recovery was most important to him. He urged the tribe not to burden Milka with questions about things he couldn’t remember, as the healers believed it could jeopardise his recovery.

Consequently, everyone maintained a distance from Milka, allowing him the space he needed to heal. But after a week, even the Advisor’s hands were forced when the tribal Chief instructed him to train Milka so that whatever happened to him would never happen to anyone else.

When the Advisor hesitated, the Chief demanded an audience with Milka alone in one of the enclosures. With that, there was nothing more the Advisor could do to protect his son. He informed Milka about the conversation, expecting him to get mad.

But to the Advisor’s surprise, Milka seemed eager to meet the Chief. It was unlike how Milka would usually behave, but the Advisor chalked it up to his memory loss and was happy that his son was finally showing signs of maturity.

"Remember... do not look the Chief in his eyes," the Advisor warned his son. "Quickly avert his gaze even if you do, and do not comment on-"

Milka stopped his father using broken hand signals before pointing at this tongue and shaking his head.

"Oh, right... forgive me, I forgot about your condition," Milka’s father smiled wanly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just... be careful, son, and make me proud."

Milka smiled back before entering the enclosure. Once he was inside, Adrian sighed. It had been a week since he last spoke, and it was driving him mad, but he had to keep his act up for a little longer.

’Who would’ve thought not speaking would be so difficult,’ Adrian thought as he went deeper into the enclosure. ’Weird... where is everyone?’

The enclosure was packed the last time Adrian had visited the place. But this time, the animals were cowering in the corner, and there were no people inside.

While Adrian couldn’t speak, he was confident his voice would have echoed if he had. Just then, he spotted an old man petting the massive Mammoroth, a creature no one dared approach.

The Advisor had told him about the Mammoroth beforehand. It was the Chief’s familiar, and only two people were allowed to go near the beast.

One was the Chief, and the other was the Chief’s uncle, the former chieftain of the Tulkas, who gave the responsibility to his nephew due to his old age.

’He’s old, that’s for sure.’

The old man in front of him looked like one of those ancient idols that the Tulkas preached as their ancestors. His fossilised grey hair and time-ravaged skin were proof of his age.

The man’s eyebrows were big enough to cover his eyes, so Adrian didn’t know where the old man was looking. For all he knew, the oldie could be sleeping with his hands on the Mammoroth’s trunk.

The man held a well-decorated staff in his other hand, his bony fingers in his other hand. Like everyone else in the tribe, the old man had a decent number of tattoos and scars engraved on his body.

The man’s appearance was frail, but his stats weren’t. It was common knowledge that people’s stats fell with old age as they were no longer in their prime. But despite his age, the old man boosted stats that put Adrian to shame.

’Level 113... I don’t even want to imagine how strong he’d have been in his prime,’ Adrian thought but was interrupted as something whizzed past him, followed by a tinge of pain.

Adrian’s hand instinctively touched his cheek, only to feel the warmth of blood meet his fingertips. Baffled, he glanced over his shoulder, discovering a spear lodged into the wall behind him.

Despite his heightened senses, he had failed to notice the spear or its owner. He would’ve been done for and wouldn’t even know it if it had been aimed at his head.

"So you’re Sihu’s son?" a burly voice echoed through the chamber as someone jumped down from the Mammoroth’s back.

The man had a lean face, pointed chin, and small nose. His pointy ears stuck out of his long, brown, unbraided hair.

It seemed the man was conscious of his appearance and thus regularly tapered his eyebrows, something unlike most of the Tulkas did. His beaded goatee, which looked exactly like his uncle’s, suited him the most.

Moreover, Adrian noticed that the man’s muscular body was a canvas filled with numerous battle scars and tribal tattoos, even more than his uncle’s. It was a sign of a prideful warrior, and each tattoo on his body had its own significance.

Like the one which resembled a spear that the man had on his right arm, it signified his weapon of choice, and the red colour of the tattoo indicated that no one in the tribe was better than him when it came to using spears.

’He... is the Chief?’ Adrian wondered. ’But why does he look like Akila and A’Mila?’

While Adrian was wondering about it, the man rushed towards him, almost making it look like he had teleported. He stood before Adrian, eyeing him strangely.

"It seems your privileges have gone through your head," the Chief mumbled. "Had it not been for your father-"

"My apologies, great tamer Ahuli. You see, my son is a bit... erratic. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him," The Advisor said, trying to pacify the situation, but his presence had the opposite effect.

"I think I made it clear only your failure of a son would be entering the enclosure," Ahuli snarled. "Did I not? Or have you gone senile with your age?"

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