Fox Clan Girl

The Raging Flame Mountain party slowly emerged from the valley and gradually gathered on the flat ground at its mouth.

After receiving the chieftain's approval, Thomas released Raging Flame Great Axe.

He was told to return and organize his people. The elderly, women, and children of Raging Flame Mountain were assigned to Lei Mo's logistics and baggage train, while Raging Flame Great Axe and the Fox Clan old man named Anthony were placed in the middle of the guard unit.

Lei Mo pretended to wander about casually. Wearing tight leather armor and carrying his pitch-black wooden totem on his back, he strolled along, and somehow ended up in the middle of the Raging Flame Mountain group.

There, he happened to spot the girl with a pair of platinum fox ears and a fox tail!

He asked curiously, "Huh? How did I get here? I was just taking a stroll.

"Oh, right. Little miss, what is that Fox Clan old man I saw earlier to you?"

The Fox Clan girl eyed Lei Mo suspiciously. Just as he thought she would ignore him, she spoke.

"You're going on a pilgrimage, right? Why did you bring a child along?"

With that, she stared at Lei Mo with a bewildered expression. Lei Mo covered his face and walked away—his first attempt at striking up a conversation had failed.

For the rest of the journey, Lei Mo stopped pretending. Knowing that his size was truly a fatal disadvantage, he obediently began calling the Fox Clan girl big sister.

Perhaps Lei Mo's size really was deceptive. He learned that the Fox Clan girl was named Margaret. She was twenty years old, indeed older than Lei Mo, but still not an adult.

The age of adulthood varied greatly among races. For example, the Bloodhoof Tribe's adulthood at ten was also rather pitiful.

As for her clan surname, he did not ask. It was obvious that her clan had perished, and Lei Mo did not want to rub salt into the wound.

Margaret's father was Anthony. At Raging Flame Mountain, although he mainly offered strategies and advice, in this world where strength reigned supreme, his status was not particularly high. Margaret's standing was naturally much the same.

As for beauty, the indifferent looks from those around them made it clear. She might have been considered beautiful in the human world, but on the Chaos Plateau, every race had different standards of beauty.

That also explained why, when they had been captured, everyone else had hung their heads in despair while Anthony remained calm and composed.

After all, he was a strategist. After all, he gave advice. After all, his status was ordinary. Neither of them belonged to their own clan or tribe anymore, and neither had any sense of belonging. Naturally, the thicker the thigh to cling to, the better.

Although the Bloodhoof Tribe had no reputation to speak of—in Lei Mo's mind, it was truly completely unknown—comparison was everything. The tribe was intact, its clan inheritance orderly, it had a level-nine expert, and it even had an Ancestral Court to worship at. It was undeniably a thick thigh.

As time passed, the Bloodhoof party drew closer and closer to the Tauren Ancestral Court.

The Tauren Ancestral Court was located near the center of the Chaos Plateau, slightly to the east. Across the entire Chaos Plateau, the Tauren were also a powerful race and occupied a third of the central plateau. Yet the Ancestral Court had never been moved into the center of the plateau, which was rather strange.

Over the past few days, Lei Mo and Margaret had become fairly familiar. He learned that the Fox Clan generally rose to prominence through the emergence of Shaman Priests.

If a Foxman tribe produced a Shaman Priest, it would immediately be recruited by a powerful race. The Shaman Priest would become part of that race's upper ranks, and the entire tribe would receive protection, effectively reaching its peak.

As they approached the central region of the plateau, the old warriors in the party became increasingly talkative. On one hand, the pressure of danger was steadily decreasing; on the other, they themselves were excited, though some of them might have come here more than once.

Still, they only came once every ten years and stayed for barely over a month each time. A little excitement was only natural.

Lei Mo learned that the Chaos Plateau was merely a rough designation, spanning several million kilometers in every direction.

Lei Mo tried to calculate its area through guesses and estimates. With his fourth-grade math skills, he only understood that the Chaos Plateau was enormous—larger than the entire surface of Earth, anyway. Beyond that, he had nothing.

The Chaos Plateau was Orc territory, but the Orcs were not united. Lei Mo had heard that humans had once been a branch of the Orcs, but as Orcish traits became less and less apparent, and as human magic developed rapidly, far surpassing the Orcs' Shaman Priest inheritance.

Moreover, magic had too great an influence on warfare, so the Orcs obediently agreed to let humanity split away.

The current balance of power on the Chaos Plateau was that the Tauren, Behemoth Orcs, and the other Orcs jointly occupied the center of the plateau.

Just like certain tropical regions on Earth, the center of the plateau was the fertile land—such as South America and Madagascar.

The Chaos Plateau was the same. Its central region received abundant sunlight and neither too much nor too little rainfall, making it highly suitable for farming. The surrounding areas either received too little rain, too much rain, or were too rugged and uneven.

As for the third power sharing the central plateau, the other Orcs referred to races such as the Tiger-kin, Lion-kin, and Leopard-kin, who had formed an elder council to negotiate their interests.

Each of their races was actually quite strong, but either their racial weaknesses were too obvious or their populations were too small. If they acted alone, they would lose their right to occupy the central plateau.

At this point, Lei Mo was rather surprised. Margaret seemed to know a great deal about this, and she explained it with perfect clarity, looking thoroughly interested.

He wondered whether her entire race had put all its talent points into this.

In any case, Lei Mo was impressed despite not fully understanding. He often asked Big Sister Margaret about the races of the plateau, and Margaret loved discussing such things with him, gaining a deep sense of accomplishment.

Among a group of Tauren whose brains seemed to be made entirely of muscle, Lei Mo was someone who could occasionally keep up with her conversation—and every time, he hit exactly the point that pleased Margaret. Before they realized it, Lei Mo and Margaret had developed a bit of a friendship.

By now, Lei Mo and the others had been traveling for nearly two months. At last, the Ancestral Court was in sight.

The Tauren Ancestral Court was also located atop a high mountain, but its summit was neither jagged stone peaks nor deep ravines and dense forests. Instead, it was a platform spanning several hundred square kilometers, at least two thousand meters above the ground. Lei Mo was so stunned that his hat nearly fell off.

Upon reaching the foot of the Ancestral Court mountain and seeing the primitive yet magnificent lift ahead, Lei Mo was still deeply shaken. Though crude and primitive, its rugged, grand presence struck him head-on and left an indelible mark on his heart.

There was more than one way up the mountain. Small groups could ride flying magical beasts known as Bird-Winged Dragons, which had been domesticated or specially bred.

Bird-Winged Dragons possessed the strength of level-three magical beasts. They were docile and omnivorous, but for the Tauren, feeding them was no easy task. It was hard enough for them to feed themselves; they did not have that much meat to give the Bird-Winged Dragons.

Lei Mo's group was obviously not a small party, and they had baggage carts with them. They could only use the lift to hoist themselves onto a mountain path a hundred meters above the ground, then continue walking around the mountain.

Then they would be hoisted to another level and continue circling the mountain on foot. After repeating this eight times, the people of Raging Flame Mountain could go no farther and were left at a temporary camp near the lift to the ninth level.