The lizardmen carried the heavy White-maned Sheep-Ox on their shoulders and moved slowly onward.
The night wind swept through the mountains along the way, dispersing the bloody stench of the hunt while bringing the distinct fragrance of mountain grass.
Ang walked among the lizardmen, his gaze passing over those who used their tails to support themselves as they moved. He felt even more admiration for this tribe's strength and resilience.
By the time they returned to the Mountain Ridge Tribe, night had fallen completely, yet the tribe was brightly lit.
Large and small bonfires cast a warm glow over the stone-built dwellings, their flames reflecting off the lizardmen's scales in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
Ang noticed that these lizardmen had mastered the use of fire far beyond any Wetland Lizardmen tribe he had encountered before.
The Wetland Lizardmen could not use fire at all and were deeply averse to it. Ang knew why: the mucus secreted by their bodies was highly flammable. Once they approached flames, they would soon be roasted into charcoal.
This way of life, so similar to human society, made him even more curious about the Mountain Ridge Tribe's heritage.
The lizardmen responsible for processing prey had been waiting for a long time. They swiftly took the carcasses and began skinning and cutting them apart with practiced movements.
The bone knives in their hands were exceedingly sharp, stripping the thick hides from the White-maned Sheep-Ox in just a few strokes.
Bright red blood flowed slowly through drainage channels paved with stones and was collected, while tendons, bones, magic cores, and other materials were carefully sorted.
Ang stood to one side, silently observing the lizardmen's division of labor and cooperation.
In particular, when he saw the White-maned Sheep-Ox hides first soaked, then wrapped in dirt and