Just as Charles Bennett was immersed in practicing his spear techniques, a flurry of urgent shouts rang out. A pretty, petite girl rushed in, covered in dust, shouting as she ran. Her little face was flushed red, and her long hair, tousled by the wind, clung to her cheeks.

　　Boom!

　　As soon as the girl finished speaking, the spear in Charles Bennett’s hand shot out from his palm, flying toward a distant boulder. The boulder shattered with a loud crash, but the spear didn’t stop—it continued to fly several more yards, plunging deep into the ground, its tail end quivering violently, as if displaying the fury burning in its owner’s heart.

Chapter 5: Pushed Too Far

　　“Emily, slow down and tell me—what exactly happened?”

　　Hearing the girl’s cries, Charles Bennett calmed himself, suppressing his anger, and asked.

　　The girl’s name was Emily Wood, daughter of David Wood—the big, bearded man. It was hard to imagine how someone as rugged as David Wood could have such a beautiful daughter. Was it some kind of genetic mutation?

　　At Charles Bennett’s words, it was as if the little girl had finally found someone to rely on. Emily took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

　　“We’ve run out of hemostatic herbs in the tribe, so Sister Alice Moore led me and some of the other girls to the rocky area south of the tribe to gather more. Just as we were heading back, Edward Strong from the Black Mountain Tribe showed up with his men. He attacked us without warning. Sister Alice Moore could have escaped, but she stayed behind to save us and was injured and captured. The rest of the girls… only Grace and I managed to get away.”

　　As she spoke, Emily Wood began to sob again.

　　“If the girls fall into the hands of the Black Mountain Tribe, they’ll be in grave danger. Besides, Edward Strong has always lusted after Sister Alice Moore. Now the girls are like lambs thrown to the wolves. Chief brother, you have to do something!”

　　Emily Wood clung tightly to Charles Bennett’s arm, shaking it as her hoarse voice echoed in his ear.

　　“All right, Emily, don’t cry. Your chief brother will definitely bring your friends back safely!”

　　He gently patted Emily Wood’s arm, softly comforting her.

　　Upon hearing the news the little girl brought, the joy of breaking through to the Blood Refining Realm was completely shattered. Charles Bennett, who had planned to consolidate his cultivation and proceed cautiously, now felt a pang of guilt.

　　He had known how arrogant and domineering the Black Mountain Tribe was, and that they would never give up easily. He should have prepared earlier and protected his people better.

　　This was a wake-up call for Charles Bennett. Being a chief was not an easy job.

　　A raging fire ignited in his heart, his anger plain to see. The Black Mountain Tribe’s actions were a provocation not only to the entire Guyuan Tribe, but also to him, Charles Bennett!

　　“Edward Strong, since you’re so eager to die, don’t blame me for sending you on your way ahead of schedule!”

　　While Charles Bennett was comforting the little girl Emily Wood—

　　The people of the Guyuan Tribe saw Grace, battered and wounded, return. The tearful girl, like a fledgling returning to its nest, sobbed as she recounted her ordeal to the tribe.

　　After hearing Grace’s story, the tribespeople were furious. They put down their work, picked up their weapons, and gathered in small groups, crowding into the courtyard where Charles Bennett was.

　　One person, two people… a hundred, two hundred… a thousand… More and more people gathered, surrounding Charles Bennett’s courtyard in layer after layer, packed so tightly that not even water could seep through.

　　There were old and young, men and women. Some were warriors in armor, some were burly men in coarse linen, others were elderly with withered blood, or women who did the laundry and cooked…

　　Each carried a broadsword on their back, or held an iron spear, a wooden bow, and some even hefted huge wooden stakes. No one organized them, no one called them together—there was only endless silence, and in their eyes, endless flames of anger.

　　Either die in silence, or erupt in silence.

　　True warriors dare to face the bleakness of life, and dare to meet the enemy’s challenge!

　　When faced with provocation, even knowing they are outmatched, they must still dare to draw their swords!

　　These simple tribespeople, when facing savage beasts and brutal outsiders, never flinched or cowered. For the sake of their people’s survival, they would risk death without regret. But now, the Black Mountain Tribe—fellow humans—were cutting into their own kin, and that was something they could no longer endure.

　　Alice Moore was not only the most beautiful woman in the tribe, but also one of its few healers—kind-hearted, she had saved countless lives, and many in the tribe owed her their gratitude. The girls who were taken were the tribe’s treasures—how could they allow outsiders to bully them?

　　The simple tribespeople were not good with words; they could only silently pick up their weapons and prove themselves through action.

　　Charles Bennett, clad in a blue suit of armor and gripping his spear, his chiseled face set with determination.

　　Looking at the united tribespeople before him, his heart trembled and his vision blurred. These were his people—a group of heroic, tragic survivors of the wilds.

　　After experiencing endless years of human scheming and intrigue in his past life, Charles Bennett found these almost primitive tribespeople to be truly pure.

　　Staring at the dense, dark crowd, Charles Bennett finally understood the obsession that had always lingered in his heart. It was a feeling of fire and water intertwined—a belief in sharing honor and disgrace, life and death, with tens of thousands of others.

　　Having arrived in this world under such strange circumstances, Charles Bennett seemed to have finally found his purpose.

　　Fight! Fight! Fight!