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"The Arathi Tribe," a human murmured to himself.
The man was around thirty, with long brown hair and a powerful build. Standing there with his muscles bulging, he looked like a wild beast from a distance.
Now, upon hearing the words "Arathi Tribe," his expression changed dramatically.
It was as though he had heard a name he could not believe, leaving him utterly shocked.
"Rhode, what's wrong with you?"
"Why do you look so pale? What happened?" A man of roughly the same age beside him noticed the sudden change in his companion's expression and asked.
Over the past two days, his companion had become somewhat unfamiliar, with many of his habits changing. Had his appearance not remained the same, he would have thought the man beside him was an impostor.
"I have something urgent to attend to. I'm leaving. Do whatever you like," Rhode said, stepping away and quickly leaving.
Seeing what his companion did, the man said nothing more. He shook his head and left him alone.
Meanwhile, after leaving in a hurry, Rhode strode forward and quickly ran up to the man who had just mentioned the Arathi Tribe.
He grabbed the man, preventing him from going any farther.
The man Rhode grabbed was in his forties. He was not particularly strong and looked rather thin, but his complexion was rosy. Clearly, he had been eating and drinking well and had no worries about food.
His frail body, however, betrayed his greatest shortcoming: he had not always had enough food. That was only a recent development.
Lately, such a situation had only arisen in the Arathi Tribe.
In any other tribe, someone with such a frail body could never have been allowed to eat his fill.