Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Lawson then took out one last item.

Three barrels of standard Imperial military spirit.

When the first barrel of wine was opened, the entire tribe erupted in cheers as the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the humid, sweltering air.

Türk's eyes shone like stars occasionally peeking through the night sky of Katachán.

"How many years has it been?"

The old man took the bowl of wine that Lawson handed him. "The last time I drank Imperial wine was twelve years ago at the trading platform. That time we sent out three of our best warriors and brought back two barrels. I only got half a bowl myself."

He tilted his head back and gulped it down, his Adam's apple bobbing violently three times.

Then he slammed the bowl down on the table and exhaled a breath of hot air carrying the vapors of alcohol.

"Good wine!"

And so the tribe's carnival began.

A campfire was lit. The wood in Katachon has a very high oil content, and the flames burned brightly and crackled loudly.

The hunters turned over all the remaining leafy pork and roasted it, while the women brought out several bowls of struggling predatory "vegetables".

Several burly men surrounded the wine barrel, pouring it into bowls one after another using animal horn cups.

Three barrels of military-grade liquor were distributed among four hundred men, enough for each person to have only two or three bowls, which was just enough to make them slightly tipsy.

But a light buzz is enough.

On a planet that is constantly trying to kill you, relaxation is an extremely rare luxury.

The daily routine for the people of Qatar is to remain vigilant at all times, be ready to fight at all times, and constantly assess the level of threats in their surroundings.

Alcohol gave them a brief moment of letting their guard down.

Someone started singing, a rough, melody-less shouting song, the lyrics of which were probably about a heroic feat of hunting monitor lizards.

The others joined in the shouting, slapping their thighs and keeping time.

Turck took something out of the shed and presented it to Lawson with both hands.

A Katachon's Fang.

A half-meter-long, thick-backed, straight-bladed jungle knife, the blade of which is made of a dark green alloy steel unique to Katachon.

The blade was sharpened to an extremely sharp point, gleaming with a cold, eerie light in the campfire. The handle was wrapped with the bones and hide of a monitor lizard, providing an excellent grip.

"Here, take it," Türk said. "The best one."

Lawson took it and weighed it in his hand.

It is well-made and has a perfect center of gravity.

He actually had one himself. He obtained a Katachon's Fang shortly after awakening his system on the wrecked ship, and he had kept it as a memento of his early days.

"Thanks." Lawson put the knife away.

Turk nodded in satisfaction, picked up his wine bowl, and walked back to the campfire.

The two great demons were also drinking.

Ash held a horn-shaped mug, taking small sips. Military-grade spirits were probably just like water to the Keeper of Secrets' palate; the alcohol of the physical world lacked any complexity for her.

But she still looked as serious as if she were appreciating a bottle of fine vintage wine.

Qianxian had already been given several bowls of soup.

Several burly men from Katachan surrounded her, pouring her drinks and talking to her.

Qianxian looked excessively beautiful in the light of the campfire.

The men of Qatar may have their own standards for what is considered "good-looking," but they also acknowledge that this purple-haired foreign woman is quite a rare sight.

"Your arms are too thin to hold a knife. An acid beetle could drag you away."

Qianxian chuckled: "I have other skills."

"What skills do you have? Can you kill insects?"

"No, but I can make the insects forget to kill me."

The burly men didn't understand what she meant, but they laughed and poured her another bowl.

On the other side, several Katachon female warriors were also watching Ash, but their comments were more direct.

"Too pale, too soft flesh, a body like that wouldn't survive a day in the jungle."

Ash smiled and let the other person comment on her arm.

If needed, she can switch to her four-armed true form in a second, scaring everyone present out of their wits, or more likely, she'll draw her sword and start slashing.

But she wouldn't; her master didn't make her change.

"Why are all the women here so strong?" Qianxian asked, craning her neck, to a girl named Katachon who was a whole head taller than her.

"You can't live if you're not strong." The girl's answer was extremely concise.

Lawson sat a little further away from the campfire, eating roasted meat while observing how the tribe operated.

He noticed some interesting details.

For example, the division of labor within a tribe.

The division of roles between men and women is not based on gender.

Instead, the standard was based on ability: whoever was better at hunting would go hunting, and whoever was better at gathering would go gathering.

Whoever is better at manufacturing will be responsible for repairing sheds and making tools.

Lawson saw a thin man, less than 1.7 meters tall, rapidly weaving animal skin armor in the shed, his skill so exquisite that even the imperial tailors would be ashamed of their own.

Next to him, a 1.9-meter-tall female hunter was sharpening her knife; her arms were thicker than the man's thighs.

Survival is the only selection criterion in Katachon; those who survive are the right ones.

As I was observing, a shadow stepped into the light of the campfire.

Kara changed into a clean animal skin garment.

It's said to be clean, but that only means there's no blood or python fluid left.

The animal hide clung to her bronze-colored skin, which had been washed by water. The wound on her side was sealed with a bitter herbal paste, and the bandages were wrapped tightly.

She was holding a bowl of wine in her hand.

He walked up to Lawson and gulped it down in one go.

He slammed the wine bowl against a nearby wooden post.

boom!

The sound of the empty bowl shattering made several nearby Katachon hunters turn their heads to look, but they continued drinking as if they hadn't seen anything.

Kara looked at Lawson, her shoulders relaxed, her legs firmly planted in the mud. Despite her injuries, she still showed him her strongest side.

Or rather, to show it to the man she has chosen.

"Sleep with me!!"

The campfire crackled, and sparks flew up between the two men.

Kara seemed to think this statement wasn't accurate enough, so she added:

"Reproduction is also an option, it depends on how far you're willing to go."

Lawson paused for a moment.

Similar customs are indeed mentioned in the Qatachan cultural database of the swarm intelligence model.

But the database doesn't record that they would say it in a tone as if reporting the weight of their prey.

Calm and composed.

Without shame or flattery.

Just like when she killed the thorn python, she shoved her head into the python's mouth.

"You look like the strongest one in this fire."

Kara raised her chin, her gaze sweeping down Lawson's shoulders, chest, and arms without any hesitation: "Big frame, steady breathing, a man like you has a high chance of his child surviving."

She suddenly turned around, drew the short knife from her waist, and stabbed it into a hardwood target next to her.

The hilt of the knife trembled.

It hit the bullseye where the old scars were densest.

"I'm not bad either."

She patted her abdomen, then pressed down along her waistline, causing her fur-lined short coat to form a short arc as the back of her hand moved it backward.

“I can outrun sour vines, hold my breath underwater for seven minutes, and today I killed a thorn python. My mother gave birth to six, and four survived. If I give birth to your child, the child won’t be as soft as a white worm in the nest.”

Not far away, Qianxian held a beast horn cup, his eyes lighting up.

She whispered to Ash, "She's so straight."

Lawson looked into Kara's eyes.

In the firelight, those amber irises resembled two sharpened animal teeth—clear, sharp, and devoid of any unnecessary demands.

"I have other things to do," Lawson said.

Kara stared at him, waiting for the second half of his sentence.

"Not tonight."

Kara's eyebrows twitched.

"Is it not possible tonight, or am I not good enough?"

Lawson smiled.

"You are very strong."

Kara accepted the assessment, and her expression softened slightly.

"That means you can't tonight."