As a nameless little tribe born on a coral reef, everyone from the chieftain to the common tribesfolk had resigned themselves to their fate. They had already begun to develop in a completely unambitious manner. As long as they had enough resources to eat and survive on each day, that was enough. After all, they still had to offer all their remaining resources to those large tribes.
The tribe always had the same number of Merfolk Warriors and the same number of Merfolk Hunters. Only when a warrior or hunter died would another merfolk take their place. Normally, everyone simply ate, drank, hunted, or gathered seagrass and seaweed.
Under the exploitation of the large tribes, this nameless little tribe simply lacked the resources to train more hunters and warriors. They had become trapped in this half-dead state, unable to thrive yet unable to perish.
Yet today, one of the tribe's Merfolk Warriors had vanished without cause. In those large tribes, a disappearance might have simply been ignored. It was not much of a problem.
But for this nameless little tribe, which had only a little over forty warriors, it was a major event that shook the entire tribe.
For high-end combatants like Merfolk Warriors, the entire tribe only had a little over forty of them. Now, one had suddenly disappeared under unexplained circumstances.
The sea gently nourished them, but it was also cruel, for countless sea beasts lived within it as well. Without warriors to protect them, sea beasts would tear this tiny tribe apart. They had given up striving, but they did not want to die.
When the chieftain arrived, all he found were drag marks that vanished completely at the shallow-water beach. Then there was blue blood splashed across the coral thickets. It had already formed scabs and