Civilization Rise

"Patriarch! Trouble! We ran into another tribe's hunters—they're trying to steal our prey. A fight's likely to break out!" 

Ethan Drake froze for a moment, heart thundering against his ribs. "Damn it. Just one day in, and this already? Stay calm. First, confirm the situation." 

"How many of them? Where?" His tone snapped to authority, forcing his scout to focus. 

"Eight, maybe nine. Not far—over there." The scout pointed toward a cluster of trees, his voice strained but steady. 

Ethan cursed under his breath. If they retreated, the rival tribe would overtake them in no time, and Mirror Lake—their only real resource—would be exposed. If they lost that, the settlement wouldn't stand a chance. 

Clenching his fists, he glanced at the crude stone spear and axe they'd managed to make. "My leader's ability boosts soldier strength by twenty percent," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "That's not much now, but it'll have to do." His jaw tightened. No running. Not today. 

He shoved a stone axe into the scout's hand. "Get the old, the women, and the kids to safety. The rest of you—grab your weapons and come with me!" 

Among the men, only four stood out as true warriors—broad, scarred, with the hard-eyed look of those who'd seen countless battles. The rest were wiry, malnourished, and barely trained. Yet Ethan saw no fear in their faces, only resolve. 

"Good," he muttered, emboldened. "Let's move." 

The scout led the way through the dense forest, Ethan and four others at his heels. The air grew thick with the clash of wood and cries of pain before they reached the scene. 

There, at the edge of Mirror Lake, Their prey—a wild boar, its massive body sprawled on the ground—. Ethan knew. If they lost this catch, the children and elders would starve. 

Ethan didn't hesitate. 

He bellowed, charging forward. "Hold the line! Kill them all!" 

His first strike came swift and unrelenting, his stone spear driving into the nearest barbarian's eye. The man howled, staggering back with blood streaming down his face. Ethan withdrew the weapon with a savage yank, his fingers trembling. It wasn't the first time he'd fought, but killing—it wasn't something you got used to. 

The rival tribesmen recoiled at the sight of the spear. Ethan seized the moment. "Push! Don't give them room to breathe!" 

The men followed his lead, their confidence swelling. Stone spears lashed out, leaving gory trails across enemy flesh. The warriors on the other side weren't fools, though. They quickly noticed Ethan's inexperience—the way his strikes lacked depth, how his movements faltered after each blow. 

Ethan's men saw it, too, but their loyalty never wavered. The scout, realizing his weapon was better suited elsewhere, shoved his stone axe into the hands of the tribe's strongest warrior. 

The shift was immediate. With the axe, the warrior became a whirlwind of destruction. His first swing cleaved a wooden club in two, the second buried itself into the chest of an enemy, sending him crumpling to the ground. 

"Press on!" Ethan roared, adrenaline overriding his exhaustion. 

The axe came down again, this time smashing into another barbarian's skull with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the dirt.

Ethan staggered to a halt, chest heaving, his spear coated in blood. 

A voice echoed in his mind, mechanical and cold: **System notification: Skill unlocked—'Encourage Morale.'**