Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 135

At first, it was only one or two tribes speaking up. But now, at least five or six tribes testified that after being attacked by stray orcs, it had been the Black Forest Tribe’s medicine boys who had treated their wounds.

Calling it “treated” might have been an exaggeration, but the bandages and ointments were real enough.

Bai Tu carefully studied the orcs who were speaking. He could tell they weren’t lying—each one carried visible injuries. The hides they wore in the summer were thinner than in winter, covering only their torsos, leaving their arms and legs exposed. On those bare limbs, the wounds stood out clearly.

The hides themselves were streaked with blood. Because they couldn’t be washed often, the stains had stiffened and spoiled the leather. And since these orcs had already been robbed by stray attackers, they had no replacements.

The others nearby noticed this too, and slowly realized those orcs were telling the truth. The crowd grew unsettled. Should the medicine boys be released or not?

A cluster of them turned instinctively toward Bai Qi for guidance.

Bai Qi waved both hands in distress. “I’ll… go ask again.”

He was completely lost. By all logic, the Black Forest Tribe had committed countless evil deeds. But what about these orcs who had really been saved? His head was pounding. How was he supposed to handle something like this?

Knowing he was in over his head, Bai Qi decisively chose the safest option—leave the judgment to Bai Tu.

But with so many orcs around, he couldn’t walk out himself. So he glanced meaningfully at Ying Quan.

Ying Quan immediately understood. He nodded, spread his wings, and flew off to ask.

Inside, Wu Cong allowed himself the first smile since being captured. He was saved!

Yes, he’d done some bad things in the tribe—but hadn’t he also helped save so many others? As long as those tribes stood up for him, surely he would be spared.

But what happened next crushed that hope instantly.

Not only did no one plead for him, but the entire market fell silent.

Because Bai Tu had asked one simple question:

“Can the Black Forest Tribe’s medicine really be trusted?”

It was a piercing question.

Yesterday, the Black Forest Tribe had drawn everyone in with free food. Today, there was medicine. At first glance, it looked like generosity. But according to Hu Wan and others, after the food had been exposed as poisoned, the tribe switched to giving out powder “medicine” instead. It dulled pain and made one drowsy—but taken too long, it became addictive. Stop taking it, and sickness would follow.

The orc who had been about to defend his medicine boy froze. He had thought the boy wasn’t guilty. But now he realized—if that was true, then he himself might end up like those poor souls trapped in the Black Forest Tribe.

That was far more terrifying than simple deceit.

He’d believed the boy was just a little arrogant, maybe spoiled by the tribe’s ways, but fundamentally good. Now, his blood ran cold. If the crowd hadn’t been watching, he would have beaten the medicine boy himself.

Wu Cong’s smile faltered, then froze completely. He had been clinging to the gratitude of those he had “saved,” waiting for them to speak up. But instead of gratitude, all he found in their eyes was burning hatred.

Hatred—because some of those orcs had just learned the truth.

When they first arrived at the market, they had trusted the medicine boys, accepting packets of powder to take each day. Just this morning, they had used some. And the cravings that followed were exactly as Hu Wan had described.

One orc whispered hoarsely, “I didn’t take it today. But… I was craving it already…”

His tribe’s food was coarse and dry. The weather was hot, and water sources were low. He had been left behind because of his injuries and had only come to the market out of curiosity. But now he realized—he himself was already caught in the trap.

He had thought the medicine boy was kind. Now, his stomach knotted with dread.

Others still tried to believe in the medicine boys, but most had begun to worry about their own health.

It was no longer about whether the apprentices should be punished—it was about whether the orcs themselves had already been poisoned.

Hu Wan had said it: prolonged use of the medicine made orcs frail. Few lived past three years. He had survived only because he secretly took smaller doses. The others who had arrived with him, those who had taken it fully, were all long dead.

The thought spread through the market like wildfire. The orcs who had taken the powder felt a heavy shadow descend on them—the shadow of their own deaths. Too many voices had testified now. There was no comfort left in denial.

With no more orcs outside speaking up for the medicine boys, Bai Qi exhaled in relief. For a moment, he had truly feared the crowd might pressure them into releasing all the apprentices. But that danger had passed.

The medicine boys who had been clinging to hope felt it crumble beneath their feet. Their despair now was heavier than when they were first captured.

The only one who remained calm was Wu Ming. He sat bound with the others, his face unreadable, showing no trace of panic even as his crimes were named aloud.

He kept that composure—until Lang Qi returned.

Lang Qi’s group had gone out to hunt down those who fled. Now they returned with all of them.

The Black Forest Tribe had numbered around three hundred in total. Of those:

• Wu Jiu, Yao Tong, and several dozen had already been tied by Bai Qi, Ying Quan, and the market orcs.

• Sixty or seventy who had slipped into the market earlier had fled outside.

• A hundred more had remained at their camp, or followed when they saw the guards run.

Now, all of them were back in ropes.

Faced with so many captives, cracks quickly appeared. Before they were even interrogated, a cluster of them broke down and confessed everything.

The Black Forest Tribe, they said, had originally been just a small leopard tribe—not even called “Black Forest” back then. Like any other tribe, its orcs rose early and foraged late, barely surviving.

As it grew, new tribes joined. At first, treatment between original and new members was nearly equal, aside from slightly smaller rations.

Everything changed when the name “Black Forest Tribe” was taken. From then on, orcs were divided into ranks. Those who joined earlier became high-rank, and those who came later, low-rank. High-rank could abuse low-rank however they wished: beatings, humiliation, even killing.

But not everyone accepted this. Once, the low-rank rose in rebellion, killing many of their oppressors before being crushed.

For a while afterward, the tribe stopped recruiting. Then Wu Jiu announced he had found a solution.

No one knew how, but from then on, any orc who ate the food Wu Jiu distributed became meek and obedient. The guards knew this well.

They explained: all the guards were young orcs assigned in recent years. Each time new tribes arrived, they were given food laced with medicine. When Wu Jiu judged enough time had passed, their true nature was revealed—the newcomers were forced to hunt and toil endlessly.

And if they resisted? There was no need for beatings. Just take away the medicine. Within two days, they broke.

Violence wasn’t necessary—but many guards still indulged in it. To vent anger, they lashed out. They separated themselves from the low-rank, forgetting they had once been the same. Trembling, they confessed not only the system but their own cruelty.

The witch doctors and their medicine boys were less violent. They only exploited the low-rank for labor. But the guards were different. Their relationship was bitter, soaked in resentment.

Low-rank orcs rarely lived longer than three years. The guards had their blood on their hands.

Beatings and insults were routine. Sometimes food was withheld for sport. If a low-rank fell ill, they were thrown into the corpse pit without treatment. If blood stained the ground, the guards beat them harder. Even the strongest withered. Many died on the spot.

Yet despite being “high-rank,” guards were not respected. In the hierarchy, they were still near the bottom. They bowed and scraped before chiefs, witch doctors, even medicine boys. The Black Forest was the most stratified, discriminatory tribe on the continent. Everyone looked down on someone.

Because guards spent so much time around the sickly low-rank, they carried their scent. Orc noses were sharp; the stench was unmistakable. The other high-rank mocked them cruelly for it.

So, humiliated from above, the guards turned their bitterness downward. After the fire yesterday, they had beaten the low-rank even more savagely than usual.

Now, seeing those very orcs—once their victims—standing in the market as objects of sympathy, they panicked. Scrambling to avoid punishment, they pushed all blame onto others. “It wasn’t us,” they insisted. “We were only following orders. We never punished anyone ourselves.”

But their lies didn’t hold. The abused orcs were right there, calling them out.

The onlookers who had once thought it impossible for the Black Forest Tribe to be guilty fell silent. Before, they had raged at “impostors.” But now? Now they had to face the truth: the tribe they had idolized was exactly as described.

The outsiders had not lied. Their illusions shattered like glass.

They felt shame heavy in their chests, remembering how they had mocked those who had spoken against the Black Forest before. They had dismissed them as jealous. Now they realized how blind they had been.

Only a few clung stubbornly to their beliefs. Even as confessions piled up, even as evidence grew, they shouted defiantly:

“The Black Forest Tribe would never do this! If they did, I’ll chop off my head and let you kick it!” one orc roared, his voice shaking with fervor. “These people are all fakes! You captured a bunch of pretenders just to frame them. Just you wait—the Black Forest Tribe will come. They’ll never forgive you. Every last one of you will pay!”

Only a handful echoed those words. Most of the orcs kept their eyes fixed on the confrontation between the oppressed orcs and their guards.

The nearby onlookers were dizzy with all the revelations, but still, it felt like not everything had been unearthed.

Only when the sun grew higher and the heat outside thickened did they realize an entire morning had already passed.

Lang Qi, the wolf leader who had rounded up most of the Black Forest Tribe orcs, proposed locking them up first. Once everyone had finished their trades, they could decide their fate.

This solution satisfied the crowd; after all, the market couldn’t stall forever over this one matter.

It was the opening morning of the market. Though the shocking news had shaken everyone, they were here to trade salt and other goods. After a morning of discussion, the crowd gradually dispersed from the Black Forest captives and turned back to bartering for their own supplies.

Listening in on gossip was fine, but trading was more important. If they dawdled and went home late, their chiefs would scold them. Besides, the wolf and lion warriors who had taken the prisoners promised the matter would be handled once trading was done. They might not be consulted, but they would certainly hear the results later. Since nothing new was unfolding now, they had better hurry with their trades.

Only those who had taken the Black Forest Tribe’s medicines still lingered, worried. Yingquan passed along Bai Tu’s instructions: no matter how much they craved it, they must never touch those drugs again. Yingquan collected all the remaining medicine and carried it straight back to Bai Tu, who had returned to his temporary quarters.

Bai Tu mulled it over. It was far too coincidental that the Black Forest Tribe always appeared alongside the wandering orcs. That afternoon, he planned to question the injured orcs more carefully about how they had been attacked.

When Bai Qi came in, Bai Tu was examining the provisions Yingquan had brought. At his side, Xiong Tuan suddenly froze at the sight of the food.

“What is it?” Bai Tu asked. Xiong Tuan looked as though he had something stuck in his throat.

“This food looks like what our tribe lost…” Xiong Tuan blurted out, then immediately realized how it sounded. With Bai Tu literally holding the food, his words could easily be taken as an accusation. He quickly stammered an explanation: “I don’t mean you stole it from us—it just looks really similar…” His voice shrank lower and lower, because no matter how he phrased it, it sounded wrong.

Bai Tu understood what he meant and reassured him, “Don’t panic. Yingquan collected these from orcs who said they’d been rescued by the Black Forest Tribe.”

He then asked, “Are you certain this is the same food your tribe lost?”

Put on the spot, Xiong Tuan wavered again. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it looked very similar. After a moment’s hesitation, he suggested, “Why don’t I ask our chief?” When in doubt, the safest answer was always to ask the leader.

“Alright,” Bai Tu nodded. He gave Bai Qi a few instructions, then sent the two of them to fetch Xiong He. Only then did he summon in the other orcs he had met on the way.

Seven tribes had received “help” from the Black Forest Tribe before this one. Each had been attacked by wandering orcs, starved of food, and run headlong into the Black Forest orcs.

The Black Forest Tribe’s medicine boys—claiming to be apprentices to a witch doctor—treated their wounds and offered to share food. But this year game was scarce, meat even scarcer, and the rations had little taste.

The wandering orcs had stolen nearly everything of value, leaving only hides and heavy, useless things like stone pots. To receive food and medicine from the Black Forest Tribe at such a moment seemed like a blessing.

The tribes gratefully accepted. Some even received gifts like stone pots. With food and medicine enough to last them to the market, they were full of thanks.

So when they saw the medicine boys captured, their first impulse was to defend them, swearing the boys were good and pleading for their release.

It wasn’t until bystanders explained that they’d been deceived that fear set in. If they kept eating that food, they would grow dependent, enslaved to the Black Forest Tribe. In two years, they would collapse from exhaustion and be tossed into a corpse pit, left to be eaten by beasts or stray orcs.

The thought of such a fate chilled them to the bone. And then they looked at Hu Wan and the survivors around him. Thin as they were, at least they still looked alive.

But the orcs who had stayed longer with the Black Forest Tribe were emaciated, little more than skin and bones, ready to topple in a breeze. Yet those walking skeletons were still forced to haul loads heavier than their own bodies—or be beaten.

If the truth hadn’t been exposed, these new tribes would have suffered the same end. Some would have been beaten to death before the year was out.

The survivors shuddered with gratitude—thankful to Bai Qi and the others for uncovering the truth, and to Lang Qi’s warriors for capturing the Black Forest Tribe. When Bai Tu asked them to recall in detail how they had encountered both the wandering orcs and the Black Forest Tribe, they recounted carefully.

“Our tribe was ambushed by wandering orcs in the middle of the night. We met the Black Forest Tribe at dawn.”

“Our tribe was attacked in the afternoon. The wanderers stole everything. That night, when we heard footsteps, we thought they’d come back—but it was a witch doctor from the Black Forest Tribe.”

“We were raided in the morning, and by noon we ran into the Black Forest witch doctor…”

Each chieftain answered Bai Tu’s questions: who had treated them, how much food they’d received, what kind of food… Bai Tu pressed for every detail.

At first, no one thought much of it. But after listening to each other’s stories, they began to feel something wasn’t right.

Nearly every tribe had run into the Black Forest Tribe within half a day of being attacked by wandering orcs. The longest gap was still only half a day. The timing was too precise.

“Could they have been lying in wait?” one orc asked hesitantly. “Waiting for us to be injured before swooping in to ‘rescue’ us?”

Several others nodded grimly.

Bai Tu looked from face to face, sighed, and led them elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the tribes who had received free food and medicine yesterday were in a panic. They had eaten the Black Forest Tribe’s provisions but didn’t dare return home yet. With only their own tribes to rely on, they would have no way to decide what to do. But here, surrounded by so many others, they had at least some hope.

Since it was the Wolf, Lion, and Bear Tribes who had captured the Black Forest orcs, they placed their trust in them, waiting for instructions.

Most of them had gathered around their resting grounds. Bai Tu soon arrived, leading several more orcs. Bai Qi followed close behind, carrying some supplies.

The tribesmen trailed after Bai Tu, uneasy. Were their suspicions right or wrong? Why had he said nothing?

They knew Bai Tu had been the one to expose the Black Forest Tribe, yet he had barely spoken since. His silence worried them. Clever orcs hated fools—had they been too slow to see the truth?

But Bai Tu did not despise them. He simply hadn’t wanted to keep the poor victims waiting too long. Approaching those who had eaten the Black Forest Tribe’s medicine, he gestured for Bai Qi to open his pack.

Inside was nothing but food—rations the Black Forest Tribe had given out along the road. Naturally, the tribes hadn’t devoured it all at once. They rationed it carefully, eating only a little at a time, hoping to stretch it until the market. Many had even hoped to trade some for salt.

For an orc, salt was more precious than most other goods.

Thus, quite a bit of that food still remained.

When one of the orcs—who had earlier accused Yingquan of keeping the food and medicine for himself—saw this, his face flushed with shame. He had even spoken out loudly back then, only to be stopped by his leader. Thank goodness the chief had intervened; otherwise, he would look even more foolish now.

If Yingquan and the others had really wanted to hoard the food, they would never have brought it out like this.

While he burned with embarrassment, the other orcs were left puzzled, and the chief who had turned over the rations was utterly bewildered. What exactly were they planning?

Even more confusing, several other orcs arrived, each bringing out the leftover provisions their own tribes had received.

Before anyone could ask, an orc resting nearby suddenly cried out, “Isn’t that our tribe’s pack?”

On the Beast God Continent, tribes were scattered far apart, with only a handful in each region. Too many in one place meant less food to go around, so newcomers generally avoided crowded areas.

Because of this separation, each tribe developed its own weaving methods. Weaving was usually done by elders or those unable to hunt, and the materials chosen depended on what plants were abundant in their territory.

As a result, every tribe’s packs were distinctive. The choice of plants, weaving style, size, and finish all varied, making it easy for an orc to recognize his own belongings.

So when the cry went up, Bai Tu didn’t say anything. He simply ordered the orcs carrying the food to dump it all on the ground.

The sight of so much food being wasted made everyone’s hearts ache. But then they remembered—this food was drugged. Eating it would only make them sick. Better wasted than consumed.

As the piles grew, the previously silent orcs exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, some of them found their voices.

“This looks exactly like the food stolen from our tribe by the wandering orcs!”

Each tribe prepared food differently. Some chopped their meat into big slabs, others into small cuts. Some roasted until charred black, others barely cooked it at all and only reheated before eating. A few boiled theirs in pots, though boiling was laborious and rare.

So when these orcs saw the scattered piles, they could easily distinguish their own food. Amidst the charred meats, the pale boiled cuts stood out, their shapes unmistakably familiar.

One coincidence might be overlooked. But so many? Added to the fact that if their food hadn’t been stolen, they wouldn’t have been forced to take the Black Forest Tribe’s medicine… the realization was like a knife to the gut.

It was far too late to regret. All they could do now was admit it: these provisions were indeed theirs.

“This is what you lost,” Bai Tu said. His gaze swept across the orc who had spoken, then over the others who still hesitated. “Earlier, you suggested the Black Forest Tribe might have been secretly watching you—that’s why they appeared at just the right time. Now that we see this, let’s take it a step further. What if they weren’t just watching? What if they were raising these wandering orcs?”

The words stunned everyone. Until now, they had only suspected that the Black Forest Tribe was opportunistically waiting for them to be injured before swooping in to ‘rescue’ them. But this?

If Bai Tu was right, then their food hadn’t been stolen by chance—it had been stolen to feed the Black Forest Tribe’s scheme.

The revelation rocked not only the orcs at the scene but also Bai An, who learned of it later.

“The Black Forest Tribe is raising wandering orcs?!” His voice was thick with shock and fury.

On the Beast God Continent, wandering orcs were despised by all. Big tribes, small tribes—everyone hated them. Small tribes like the Snow Rabbit Tribe suffered the most. Nearly every minor tribe had been robbed by them.

It wasn’t just theft, either. Their killing sprees were worse than the Brown Monkey Tribe’s banditry. Many wandering orcs would sneak into small settlements, abduct female orcs and sub-beasts, and slaughter every male they found.

Some orcs who lost their tribes through misfortune were forced to wander, eventually joining friendly groups or falling in with the raiders. But survival alone was hard, even for the strong.

Long ago, there had been small bands of wanderers who moved like nomads, settling briefly in resource-rich areas before moving on. But those had disappeared years ago.

What remained now were only the raiders—violent bands of hundreds who refused to hunt, choosing instead to plunder. Some said those small nomadic tribes had been swallowed up by them.

And their appetite for violence was bottomless. Even with full bellies, they attacked, targeting children when nothing else was to be gained.

For the Black Forest Tribe to be colluding with such monsters—supporting them—how could that not ignite fury?

The larger a band of wandering orcs grew, the bolder they became. Those who had robbed these tribes were a force hundreds strong, all in their prime. No small tribe could stand against them.

And this was only what they knew. In just the few days since the market gathering began, how many other tribes had already been wiped out?

The thought made Bai An’s blood run cold. He suddenly remembered the tribes he had known in his youth—familiar faces that had quietly disappeared.

“Back then, there were several Rabbit Tribes in the East alone,” he murmured. Over ten years ago, he had known six or seven. But gradually, they stopped appearing at markets. Only his own Snow Rabbit Tribe remained.

And it wasn’t just the rabbits. Many small tribes of larger beastmen had also dwindled, until only the massive groups, hundreds strong, survived.

“I should have realized sooner,” Bai An whispered. Looking back, he saw it clearly now—the small tribes were vanishing faster and faster. Each market, one or two familiar banners were missing. He had brushed it off, thinking they were delayed, or that they had moved. But in truth…

Bai Tu shook his head. It wasn’t Bai An’s fault. These disappearances hadn’t happened all at once. No one could have pieced it together. That was precisely how the Black Forest Tribe had gotten away with it for so long.

“What matters now,” Bai Tu said grimly, “is destroying both the wandering orcs and the Black Forest Tribe behind them.”

It was a vile scheme: raising raiders to steal food, then using that very food to buy loyalty. If no one had uncovered it, countless tribes might have joined the Black Forest Tribe after this market—only to die silently like Hu Wan’s people, while outsiders still envied them.

The Black Forest Tribe had perfected this method. Bai Tu suspected this wasn’t even their first time.

It had to end. But the Black Forest Tribe was vast. Even without their raiders, their numbers were still several times greater than their enemies’.

Bai An faltered.

Lang Qi, however, had already nodded.