Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 138

The others’ reactions weren’t as dramatic as Bai Qi’s, but their thoughts were exactly the same — saying something like that in front of Lang Qi was nothing short of suicide.

It wasn’t that anyone was worried about Bao Ren dying. A man like him could die a hundred times over and still not make up for his sins. What they were worried about was Lang Qi getting angry. If he stormed off and took Bai Tu with him, who would lead them? They had just captured the Black Forest Tribe, and everyone was waiting for Bai Tu to take charge of what came next.

It wasn’t that the others lacked ability — they were all strong in their own right — but Bai Tu always seemed to see things from more angles, to think several steps ahead. Over time, they’d all grown used to relying on his judgment. Without him, things would take two or three times longer to sort out.

So when Bai Tu didn’t immediately refuse Bao Ren’s ridiculous offer, everyone relaxed. Surely, he would turn him down.

Unfortunately, their relief came too soon.

“Alright,” Bai Tu said, nodding lightly.

His words stunned the crowd. Not only Lang Qi — everyone froze, blinking in disbelief.

What did he just say?
Did Bai Tu actually… agree?

“Tu, you—?!” Bai Qi blurted out, unable to hold it in. “What do you mean?!”

Was Bai Tu seriously thinking of taking another mate? Twenty of them, no less? That wasn’t just “another partner” — that was an entire harem! Was Bai Tu really going to throw away Lang Qi for twenty so-called beauties?

Normally, they might have secretly grumbled about Lang Qi — about how he’d “stolen” Bai Tu from their tribe — but at least he was someone they knew and trusted. Who knew what kind of people Bao Ren’s “beauties” were? Even if they came from the Black Forest Tribe, who knew their true origins? What race were they? Were they healthy? Male or female?

How could Bai Tu agree so easily without knowing any of that?

The orcs familiar with Bai Tu and Lang Qi exchanged uneasy looks. If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could turn messy fast. Those less familiar with them didn’t know the details of their relationship, but anyone who’d watched them together could see how close they were. It would be a shame if that bond was broken because of Bao Ren’s provocation.

One thing was certain — everyone blamed Bao Ren. Entirely.

Lang Qi’s expression darkened, his gaze cold and sharp enough to kill. If Bao Ren dared to utter one more word, Lang Qi looked ready to make sure it was his last.

But Bao Ren, utterly oblivious to the danger, was almost giddy with joy. He had expected Bai Tu to haggle, to play hard to get. He hadn’t thought he would agree so easily.

What an ignorant sub-beast, Bao Ren thought with disdain. He knew well the lowly status of sub-beasts on the Orc Continent. This one was young — maybe that’s how he’d managed to trick so many orcs into following him. Still, that could be dealt with later.

No wonder this sub-beast had started looking for female orcs and sub-orcs the moment he arrived. Bao Ren smirked to himself, thinking he understood everything. Those “beauties” had been his last hidden trump card, meant for dealing with the witch doctor — yet now, he would use them to bait this foolish sub-beast.

The rarer the prize, the greater the desire. In most tribes, orcs could only ever find a single mate. This sub-beast must be jealous of them, Bao Ren thought. Otherwise, why agree so quickly?

He sneered inwardly. Foolish, greedy, ignorant.

“Where are these ‘beauties’ of yours?” Bai Tu asked with feigned curiosity, casting a sidelong glance at Lang Qi and subtly gesturing toward the cub nearby.

The cub was still there. He clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

Lang Qi understood the signal instantly. Though a flicker of discomfort passed through him, he swallowed it down. He knew Bai Tu had a reason for everything. If he interfered now, it could jeopardize their plans. So he forced himself to stay calm.

The others, however, saw that brief exchange and drew their own conclusions — entirely the wrong ones.

Bai Qi’s eyes widened. Wait… were they talking about dividing cubs? Two for one, three for another? That didn’t seem fair! Shouldn’t they split evenly?

Bai An and the other elders had different thoughts altogether. Oh no, they thought grimly. Bai Tu already has cubs — what’s he doing chasing after more mates? Still the same Bai Tu as always… couldn’t resist getting into trouble.

Meanwhile, Bao Ren thought Bai Tu’s curious look was simply excitement — the eagerness of a man anticipating his prize.

“There are quite a few of us here…” Bao Ren said awkwardly, glancing around. He didn’t want too many witnesses to this “exchange.”

Bai Tu immediately waved his hand. “Everyone, take a break. Lang Qi and I will go with him.”

Bao Ren’s confidence grew. He couldn’t tell exactly what race Lang Qi was, but he could sense his power — another male orc. All the better. Once he subdued this one, they could share the spoils together.

Brimming with smug satisfaction, Bao Ren led them through the maze-like terrain to another corner of the tribe’s territory.

In the shadows, unseen to him, dozens of wolfhounds followed quietly, their eyes gleaming in the dark.

As Bai Tu walked, he couldn’t help but notice a pattern among the Black Forest orcs — arrogance. A blind, overbearing arrogance. Every one of them believed themselves untouchable, the masters of all they surveyed.

He’d seen this sort of pride before, but never in such concentration. He could almost taste it in the air here.

The reason wasn’t hard to see. The Black Forest Tribe was enormous — more than seven thousand members, including those they’d lured from other tribes. Across the entire Beast God Continent, across all four continents, there were few tribes of comparable size. That kind of dominance bred arrogance. They’d ruled too long, deceived too easily, and now thought no one could challenge them.

Reality, however, was far less kind.

With the largest population and the widest territory in the East, the Black Forest Tribe had grown bloated with pride. Both Wu Jiu and Bao Ren believed themselves the true architects of that success — each claiming to be the tribe’s pillar, each jealous of the other’s authority.

In truth, their power was evenly matched, but both were constantly scheming for the upper hand. Bao Ren hated how Wu Jiu kept a tight grip on the witch doctors and medicine boys, leaving him no chance to interfere. Wu Jiu, meanwhile, despised Bao Ren for secretly hiding away orcs and refusing to reveal their whereabouts.

Outwardly, they were close allies, cordial even — deferring to one another during council meetings. But beneath the surface, they were constantly setting traps, undermining one another.

Some of the “beauties” Bao Ren had once promised to deliver to Wu Jiu had never actually been handed over.

Now, Bao Ren led Bai Tu and Lang Qi along a winding trail to a secluded hillock that looked utterly unremarkable. After confirming they were alone, he crouched and began digging with his bare hands.

Apparently, this hiding place was one he had chosen himself — known only to a handful of loyal orcs.

As Bao Ren moved aside the stones, Bai Tu suddenly felt a cold prickle crawl up the back of his neck. He instinctively took a step closer to Lang Qi.

It was strange — Lang Qi’s presence usually grounded him, made him feel safe. So why did he suddenly feel… uneasy?

His question was answered the moment the cave opened.

The instant he saw what was inside, Bai Tu understood why that chill had come over him.

He just wanted to grab Bao Ren and shout, “Who in their right mind calls this a beauty?!”

He bit back the words, but his expression said it all. His eyelids twitched violently.

If this wasn’t punishment for losing sleep, then heaven must really be playing a joke on him. What did he do to deserve being dragged into a cave full of snakes? Giant pythons, to be exact — coiled, shimmering, and each a different color. Beautiful, yes… but terrifying all the same.

Adult orcs could usually control their transformations. Most stayed in human form unless hunting, gravely injured, or giving birth. Bai Tu didn’t know if there were any serpent orcs in the market tribes, but he’d certainly never seen one. It was one thing to know such forms existed — it was another to see them in person.

Bao Ren, however, didn’t even flinch. He had known all along what they were. Gesturing casually, he ordered the pythons to return to human form, then turned to Bai Tu with a smirk.

Bai Tu stood frozen, staring. “These are… the ‘beauties’ you were talking about?”

Bao Ren nodded confidently. “Don’t be fooled by their current appearance. Once they transform, you’ll see — no orc could resist them.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. As the snakes shifted into human form, their appearance was striking — men and women both, their features flawless, their skin smooth and luminous. Easily among the most beautiful on the Eastern Continent.

But Bai Tu had just seen what they’d been a moment ago, and no matter how lovely their faces were now, all he could picture were their scales and fangs. Beautiful or not, they looked capable of swallowing him whole.

Suppressing a shiver, Bai Tu asked evenly, “Are there any others?”

Bao Ren, mistaking his tone for greed, frowned slightly but explained, “No. These are the only ones. The others are dead or gone.”

He went on, almost proudly, to say that he had raised these orcs in secret, hiding them even from Wu Jiu. Maintaining them had been difficult — feeding, clothing, and keeping them loyal without drawing attention was no easy task. Finding another group like them, he said, was nearly impossible.

Bai Tu exhaled slowly. “Forget it.”

If there were no others, there was no point continuing the act. With a sharp gesture, he signaled the hidden orcs surrounding the area to move in and rescue the captives. There was no longer any need to keep up appearances.

Bao Ren’s expression froze as dozens of orcs emerged from the shadows. The pythons he had thought he controlled were outnumbered two to one.

His face twisted in fury. “You lied to me!”

The words echoed in the cave — almost identical to those once shouted by Bai Meng.

Bai Tu sighed inwardly. So Wu Jiu actually trusted Bao Ren with a cub? With a temper like this, that poor child’s going to turn out exactly the same.

With Bao Ren’s last secret exposed, ninety-nine percent of the Black Forest Tribe’s forces had now been captured. Only a few stragglers remained — the ones who had hidden too deep to be found yet.

As for the rest, their reactions varied. Some pretended to surrender, waiting for an opening to flee. Some played dead to avoid punishment. Others took advantage of the relocation to slip away into the forest.

The Black Forest Tribe was vast and filled with many different races. Each group believed that, with their own unique abilities, they might find a way to escape.

But they had forgotten one thing — this time, it wasn’t just one tribe hunting them down. Not three or four either. Dozens of tribes had joined forces. Whatever “racial advantages” they had, others had too.

Among those struggling in captivity, the snake tribe — especially the ones Bao Ren had hidden away — were the most restless.

Snakes were known for their beauty. Both the male and female snake orcs were strikingly attractive, far more so than ordinary orcs. Many guards, when faced with such beauty, unconsciously went easier on them. The ropes binding the snakes were often tied more loosely than those on others.

That small act of leniency gave them an opening.

Unlike most beast forms, snakes lacked claws. Their entire body was their weapon — and their advantage. Once they shed their ropes, it was much easier for them to slither free than it would have been for others to break loose.

Before long, the imprisoned snakes transformed back into their beast forms and began crawling toward the back of the cave, seeking a way out.

Most caves had secondary exits, and sure enough, the snakes soon found one — a loose stone near the ground. Beneath it was a narrow tunnel. If someone had passed by, they might never have noticed; it looked like an ordinary patch of rock. In fact, the opening was so tight that even most orcs couldn’t have fit. Only the slender-bodied snakes could use it to escape.

The snake tribe had joined the Black Forest Tribe later than most, but their good looks had saved them from the fate of other captured orcs. Their leader had even managed to curry favor with Bao Ren, joining forces with him to imprison the weaker and more beautiful members of their own people — offering them up in exchange for protection and privilege.

Once they gained their freedom under Bao Ren’s rule, they didn’t think of leaving the tribe or rebelling. Instead, they groveled, promising to dedicate any beautiful cubs they bore to him in the future.

Bao Ren had been eager for allies, and attractive ones were even better for maintaining his image. He had agreed without hesitation. At that time, the snakes hadn’t yet allied with Wu Jiu, so they had no qualms following Bao Ren’s orders.

They were obedient, shrewd, and useful — so Bao Ren naturally treated them well.

Soon, the snake tribe began joining Bao Ren’s followers in oppressing the weaker orcs, using their looks to win favor and status. But beneath their charm, they had committed enough crimes — theft, arson, even murder — to make the other tribes furious. Once their crimes were known, no tribe would let them go unpunished.

Now, captured and fearing retribution, the snakes decided to escape at any cost. Even if they were forced to join some smaller tribe later, that would be better than facing execution here.

So they slipped into the narrow tunnel, hoping for freedom. The path was longer than expected, forcing them to crawl for what felt like forever before finally reaching the exit.

And when they emerged into daylight, they froze.

Why were there so many eagle orcs outside?

Yingquan hadn’t expected to stumble upon them either. He had been leading a scouting party behind the mountains, following Bai Tu’s orders.

Unlike the Wolf Tribe’s long, connected mountain chains, the Black Forest region was ringed by peaks on all sides — east, west, south, and north. The terrain was jagged and confusing. Traversing it wasn’t as easy as walking across plains, and some paths wound so sharply that even the most thorough searches could miss entire sections.

Knowing this, Bai Tu had ordered Yingquan and the Eagle Tribe to conduct a full aerial sweep. The plan was simple: fly over every mountain peak, dive down into every hollow, and make sure not a single stretch of land was left unchecked.

As a group of eagles swooped into one of the deeper valleys, they spotted movement — the Snake Tribe slithering out from a cave.

It couldn’t have been easier prey.

The eagle orcs immediately transformed into their beast forms, soaring high above before diving down in sharp, lethal arcs. Their talons sliced through the air and closed around the snakes below. The stronger eagles could even carry two serpents at once.

The snakes, though agile in human form, were nearly blind in their beast forms when exposed to bright sunlight. By the time they realized what was happening, the eagles were already upon them. There was no time to flee, no chance to fight back. One by one, they were snatched up and carried screaming back toward the mountains — right back into captivity.

Their grand escape plan had failed before it even began.

By the time Bai Tu received the report, the eagles had already returned with the entire snake tribe — though not to the same cave as before.

Still, something about Yingquan’s description caught Bai Tu’s attention. The tunnel the snakes had used was barely wide enough for a palm and had been disguised with rocks so convincingly that it blended into the wall. If the snakes hadn’t crawled through it, no one would ever have known it was there.

Even more curious, the tunnel stretched a surprising distance. The snakes had crawled for quite a while before emerging.

That didn’t sound natural.

It looked dug.

Bai Tu frowned and ordered Yingquan to investigate the area behind the cave once more. His instincts told him there was something more to this.

Yingquan and his team searched the mountains all night but found nothing.

The next morning, Bai Tu decided to see for himself. He didn’t tell Lang Qi — because he knew, without a doubt, Lang Qi would never have allowed it.

His own beast form was small, perfect for squeezing into tight spaces, so it wasn’t difficult for him to crawl through the narrow tunnel.

He moved slowly, following the twisting passage until, just as he neared the end, he noticed something unusual — a second tunnel branching upward.

That explained everything. No wonder the eagles hadn’t found anything. The true hiding place wasn’t behind the mountain at all, but above it — connected only through this tiny passage. The snakes must not have known it was there either; even if they had, their heads would have been too large to fit.

In the faint light filtering through the rocks, Bai Tu could see that the upper tunnel stretched quite deep. After a brief hesitation, he decided not to go in alone. Instead, he summoned the Rabbit Tribe.

If there was one thing rabbits excelled at, it was digging.

Once Bai Tu pinpointed the location, the rabbit orcs quickly got to work. They dug a narrow trench from the ground up, following the same path as the hidden tunnel above. The passage wound and twisted, occasionally widening into small chambers — resting spots, perhaps. And at the end of it all, they uncovered another hidden space.

Bai Tu approached cautiously — and then froze.
A faint, almost imperceptible sound reached his ears. A cry. Soft, but distinct.

Without hesitation, he hurried toward the sound.

And there they were — a cluster of cubs.

They were tiny. Alarmingly tiny — barely two-thirds the size of a normal cub, smaller even than his own had been at birth. Their fur was sparse, their bodies frail, but their little eyes glittered with life.

Startled by his sudden appearance, the cubs huddled together. One little lion cub, trembling but brave, bared its teeth in defense, trying to growl. It was more of a squeak than a snarl, and its puffed-up fur only made it look rounder.

Bai Tu quickly scanned the area. There were no signs of adult orcs — no footprints, no fresh scent trails. Could these cubs have been left here by imprisoned sub-beasts?

Lang Qi still had no idea where Bai Tu had gone. To avoid worrying him, Bai Tu hadn’t brought any of the other cubs along. He pulled out an empty cloth bag from his pack and carefully placed the tiny cubs inside.

There were thirteen in total — every one of them skinny and fragile. The bag that normally fit five cubs somehow managed to hold them all.

As Bai Tu made his way back, he ran into Lang Qi, who had come searching after noticing his long absence.

Lang Qi’s eyes went first to the bag of cubs in Bai Tu’s arms, then down to his own cub nearby. He said nothing, but his expression darkened.

A nearby wolf orc whispered to a companion, “Does Lord Bai Tu think we don’t have enough cubs already? No wonder the chief couldn’t find him — turns out he went out to collect more!”

“It’s said he accepted Bao Ren’s offer yesterday, the one about twenty beauties,” another murmured. “Guess even that wasn’t enough. Poor Chief Lang Qi… seems like he’s been replaced.”

Bai Tu: “…”
He would never understand the way orcs thought.

Seeing Lang Qi’s expression grow increasingly troubled, Bai Tu hurried to explain. “No, no — five is plenty.”

Lang Qi’s eyes narrowed. “You think it’s too many, then?”

Bai Tu: “…Not too many. Not too few. Five is just right.” He quickly changed the topic. “I found these cubs outside. I think the tunnel behind the cave was dug by imprisoned sub-beasts, and these are the cubs they were hiding.”

Lang Qi relaxed slightly at that. If Bai Tu hadn’t brought them out from the cave, it meant he hadn’t deliberately taken in someone else’s cubs.

He’d heard from Bai An and Bai Qi that Bai Tu had once nearly adopted cubs from another tribe. Lang Qi didn’t oppose Bai Tu caring for cubs, but… they already had more than enough of their own.

This was better. Much better.

He gently took the bag and wrapped the cubs in his arms, then looked back at Bai Tu. “How did you know there was another tunnel?”

“I went in—” Bai Tu stopped mid-sentence, realizing he was about to expose himself. He coughed lightly and changed direction. “Let’s go check on those people first.”

If those cubs had truly been hidden by imprisoned sub-beasts, then there were survivors — or at least sub-beasts who had been conscious and strong enough to dig.

Bai Tu had heard plenty of accounts from the orcs they’d freed earlier, stories of the Black Forest Tribe’s cruelty. But something still didn’t add up. For one, the number of sub-beasts among the captives was unusually high compared to other tribes. And yet, among those awake, few could answer questions clearly. Most were dazed, unresponsive — and some went completely berserk when approached.

Maybe the cubs could help him uncover the truth.

But before that, they needed food.

Lang Qi looked at him, clearly wanting to object, but in the end he said nothing. Across the Beast God Continent, the topic of sub-beasts was taboo. The rumor — that sub-beasts had brought disaster upon the world — hadn’t just circulated through the Black Forest Tribe. It had spread far and wide.

Many tribes considered the idea absurd, but no one dared raise it openly. No matter which side you were on, bringing up sub-beasts would always spark conflict.

And with the siege of the Black Forest Tribe still underway, the last thing they needed was internal chaos.

Most of the orcs fighting alongside them didn’t even realize Bai Tu was a sub-beast. There were reasons for that.

Rabbit Tribe orcs were naturally slender, and Bai Tu’s youthful features made him look like he hadn’t yet reached full maturity. Many assumed he was simply younger than Bai Qi — and therefore, his smaller build didn’t raise suspicion.

And after all, sub-beasts had vanished from public sight for years. Some tribes still quietly sheltered their own, but they kept them hidden from outsiders, afraid that extremist tribes would use the excuse to start another purge.

Over time, people had grown used to pretending sub-beasts didn’t exist at all.

So when they looked at Bai Tu, no one even considered the possibility.

The matter of Bai Tu and Lang Qi being a couple wasn’t unusual on the Beast God Continent. Pairings between two male orcs, two female orcs, or even two sub-beasts were all fairly common. Naturally, their relationship didn’t attract much surprise.

The cubs they brought along only reinforced this impression. The two cubs who called Bai Tu “Daddy” could already take human form — which meant they were at least three years old.

Even if Bai Tu looked young, he was clearly past puberty; there was no way he could have fathered them. So everyone drew their own conclusion: those cubs weren’t his by blood.

That explanation made perfect sense to them — convenient, logical, and entirely wrong.

Lang Qi was aware of what the others were thinking, and even Bai An had caught on. But neither of them corrected the misunderstanding.

After all, most of the tribes participating in the campaign against the Black Forest Tribe were strangers. They didn’t know how others might react if they learned Bai Tu was actually a sub-beast. Better to avoid the topic altogether.

And ever since entering the Black Forest, Bai Tu had been constantly occupied — organizing rescues, giving orders, tending to the wounded. No one had the time, or the nerve, to question his identity. So the secret stayed buried.

But now, Bai Tu had begun contacting the sub-beasts personally. If any of the visiting tribes started putting two and two together, his secret could easily come to light. One whisper could spark division, shattering the fragile alliance that had united them.

Lang Qi understood the risk. Yet he didn’t stop Bai Tu. He trusted him to handle it — to face this moment head-on.

If Bai Tu didn’t seize this chance to speak with the sub-beasts and learn the truth, he might never get another opportunity once the tribes dispersed.

Bai Tu, unaware of Lang Qi’s silent reasoning, only felt an inexplicable urgency — a deep instinct telling him that this situation had to be resolved quickly.

After feeding the dozen or so cubs, he found a large bamboo basket, lined it with soft cloth, and gently set the cubs inside. Then, carrying the basket, he headed toward the cave where the rescued sub-beasts were kept.

Since sub-beasts had little combat power, and Bai Tu himself wasn’t strong enough to fight, Lang Qi refused to let him go alone. He initially planned to hand the cubs to Lang Ya for safekeeping — but just as he did, something made him hesitate. He took them back into his arms and decided to go together with Bai Tu.

When they reached the entrance of the sub-beasts’ cave, Lang Qi instructed Lang Yang to stand guard with several warriors, blocking anyone — from any tribe — from entering.

Lang Yang, no stranger to sentry duty, nodded solemnly and took his position.

Inside, Bai Tu and Lang Qi stepped carefully into the dim cavern, carrying the cubs with them. The sub-beasts were in slightly better condition than before. Their clothes were cleaner, their eyes less clouded, though many still looked pale and exhausted.

The cubs’ presence immediately changed the atmosphere. A few sub-beasts glanced over instinctively, drawn by the faint whimpers and warmth.

Bai Tu had already noticed that these people were pretending — suppressing emotion, acting indifferent. But if they truly felt nothing, would the cubs have been so drawn to them?

Young as they were, cubs could sense kinship. If an orc ignored a cub again and again, the cub would eventually give up seeking them. But these cubs didn’t shy away; they reached toward the sub-beasts, eager and trusting.

Bai Tu said nothing at first. He simply placed the bamboo basket on the ground and lifted the lid.

Instantly, he felt more than a dozen eyes focus on him. A ripple of light — hope, disbelief, fear — flickered across the faces of the sub-beasts. Some averted their gaze quickly; others couldn’t look away.

“I found these outside the tribe,” Bai Tu said quietly. “Do any of them belong to you?”

He looked around the room — and saw two sub-beasts clutch their cubs tightly, their hands trembling.

The others glanced briefly at Bai Tu, then at Lang Qi. Suspicion and curiosity warred in their eyes.

Bai Tu and Lang Qi exchanged a look. Then Lang Qi stepped forward and carefully lifted the cubs he carried, setting them down beside the basket.

The sub-beasts froze.

Sub-beasts… and cubs.

Unlike the ordinary orcs outside, these people instantly recognized Bai Tu for what he was — one of their own. They could sense it instinctively, a bond that needed no words. But even so, recognition didn’t erase years of fear.

Many still hesitated, wary that this might be a trap — that the Black Forest Tribe or the invading orcs had sent Bai Tu to test them.

But when they saw Lang Qi standing protectively beside him, and the way both of them treated the cubs — openly, without shame — their doubts began to crack.

The Black Forest Tribe had always hidden their sub-beasts, treating them as shameful secrets. Pregnant sub-beasts were locked away, their cubs killed or “disposed of” before they could threaten anyone’s status.

Wu Jiu had used that fear to control them — murdering cubs without mercy, while the orcs outside turned a blind eye. Some even rejoiced. So long as the cubs died, there would be no witnesses, no claims of lineage, no complications.

Bao Ren had turned that cruelty into policy. To him, sub-beasts were tools — rewards, punishments, currency.

Years of such treatment had crushed hope. These sub-beasts had lived in darkness so long they had forgotten what sunlight looked like — forgotten that their cubs could exist openly, could laugh and play and be seen.

Now, watching Bai Tu’s group, their eyes began to change. Light flickered there again — fragile but real. Some even dared to dream that one day their own cubs could live like that: safe, seen, loved.

But hope was dangerous. It came and went like lightning, gone before it could take root. They all knew the truth: the fate of a sub-beast was sealed from birth, and that of their cubs was even crueler. Most never survived long enough to see the sky.

“This one is my cub,” Bai Tu said softly. “If you don’t want the others, I can take them and raise them.”

At that, one of the sub-beasts — who had been silently watching — flinched in surprise. Bai Tu caught the reaction immediately. That spark of surprise wasn’t fear; it was relief.

Giving their cubs away — and being glad for it?

Bai Tu’s gaze sharpened. Something wasn’t right. “Our tribe is well-provisioned,” he said, his tone calm and deliberate. “If there are more cubs needing care, I can take in several more. I’ve also been searching for a relative — someone named Bai Luo. Do any of you know that name?”

The sub-beasts went still.

Then, from the corner of the cave, a disheveled orc stirred — moving so quietly that only Bai Tu noticed. At the same time, one of the sub-beasts suddenly lifted their head, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You… you know Bai Luo? Bai Luo is alive? He made it out?” The words tumbled out, trembling with hope.

The reaction was almost frantic. Bai Tu hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I’m Bai Luo’s son.”

For a heartbeat, silence filled the cave. Then chaos.

Gasps, cries, muffled sobs. Dozens of eyes turned to him — some streaming with tears, some shining with joy. The defensiveness vanished entirely, replaced by something raw and bright.

In the corner, the orc who had been hiding his face suddenly surged to his feet, voice shaking. “You’re Bai Luo’s child? You really are?”

Bai Tu didn’t flinch. He met the man’s gaze squarely and said, “I am.”

The orc stared at him for a long moment, then covered his own face, shoulders trembling. When he finally looked up, a wide, trembling smile broke across his face. “He did it… he really did it. Bai Luo succeeded…!”

Bai Tu didn’t fully understand what the man meant, but he could hear the years of waiting and faith packed into those few words.

As he stood there, another sub-beast — older, calmer — stepped forward, studying him intently before nodding. “You look so much like Bai Luo.”

Bai Tu had heard the same from Bai Meng, so he wasn’t surprised. Seizing the moment, he asked, “Why did my father leave? What happened back then?”

The elder sub-beast exchanged glances with Lang Qi, then finally said, “Because Bai Luo was the only one who escaped.”

Bai Tu’s breath caught. Only one? Out of so many?

He had already suspected that Bai Luo’s escape hadn’t been luck — that others had sacrificed themselves for him. The sub-beast’s next words confirmed it.

“My name is Chi,” the elder said quietly. “I was a few years younger than Bai Luo back then. When all of us were captured and locked away by the Black Forest Tribe, we knew escape was impossible. So we made a plan — to create chaos, distract the guards, and send one person out.”

Sub-beasts had little strength, but they had unity — and determination. If even one could escape, that one could find allies, return with help, and free the rest. It was the only chance they had.

“So we used the only weapon available to us,” Chi continued. “We sowed discord. The Black Forest Tribe’s leader was paranoid, and there were younger orcs beneath him — ambitious, strong, eager to take his place. We whispered in their ears, turned them against each other, and when the fights began, the entire tribe fell into chaos.”

A small, grim smile crossed his face. “That was when Bai Luo escaped.”

But victory came at a terrible cost.

“After that,” Chi said, voice dropping, “the guards doubled. Those of us left behind were watched day and night. Before, we were allowed outside once a day — now, not at all. We were trapped completely. Still, none of us regretted it. Not even once. Every one of us hoped that Bai Luo would make it… that he’d survive long enough to return.”

He exhaled, eyes glistening. “We’ve been waiting for twenty years.”