Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 155

Bai Tu paused mid-movement, the piece of dried meat still in his hand. It took him a moment to fully comprehend what the old chieftain meant.

They… defeated the Xihe Tribe?

The speed stunned him. He had expected the Western Continent tribes to quietly spread the truth to the tribes nearest the Xihe Tribe. He absolutely hadn’t expected them to resolve everything within a single month.

Shock aside, Bai Tu quickly noticed the wound on the old chieftain’s face. He immediately instructed the orc carrying him to take him into the treatment cave. Bai Tu prepared medicine with swift, practiced motions. The eye could no longer be saved, but he had to stop the infection.

The old chieftain, however, seemed unconcerned about his injury. Upon hearing Bai Tu’s voice, he perked up and began recounting everything that had happened over the past month—speaking rapidly, excitedly.

The reason the Western Continent tribes acted so quickly was simple: the Xihe Tribe’s shaman had targeted their cubs. Everything else might have been tolerated, but this? No tribe on either continent would ever forgive an attack on their young.

The Tiger Brothers thought that killing cubs would make the tribes fearful and obedient. Instead, it wiped away every last trace of fear.

Their cubs— their most precious future—had been slaughtered. What meaning was there in surviving if they didn’t take revenge?

With nothing left to lose, the tribes fought like wild beasts. Strong or weak, every orc joined the assault. Even those whose cubs were still alive held nothing back.

Because who knew if Hu Que would one day decide they were “disobedient” and kill their remaining cubs? Who knew if the tiger-clan watchers in their tribes would spread rumors again? They had been oppressed for far too long.

The adult orcs who had been drugged were the first to volunteer for the front lines. They knew firsthand the agony of ingesting the Xihe Tribe’s poison. And the thought that their cubs would continue to live under such danger if Hu Que wasn’t destroyed… they couldn’t bear it.

No persuasion was needed. They rose up on their own.

Although the Xihe Tribe was the largest tribe on the Western Continent, the number of small tribes they had wronged was far greater. Once the truth spread, every single one of those tribes joined the uprising.

The old chieftain had originally believed he would have to convince them, soothe their fears—but seeing them rush forward without hesitation brought him to tears. Orcs who had once been sent by Hu Que to attack the Snow Rabbit Tribe and the Blood Wolf Tribe, along with countless tribes suppressed for years, now united in a mass rebellion against Hu Que.

Hu Que had ruled by relying on the shaman’s “divine authority” and the Xihe Tribe’s size. But now that no one feared the Beast God’s fake punishments, the shamans were useless. And no matter how large the Xihe Tribe was, how could they compare to hundreds of tribes?

Hu Que was still discussing with his shaman brothers whether to send someone to search for Hu Nian when the report came: hundreds of tribes were marching toward them.

His face drained of color. He cursed the messenger, accusing him of lying.

The whole Western Continent was under his rule. The surrounding tribes always reported to him. How could hundreds of tribes be attacking without anyone warning him earlier?

But once he stepped outside and saw the truth, his knees nearly gave out.

The tribes marching on him were the very tribes he had ruled for years.

The orcs he sent to monitor them were nowhere to be seen—likely dead. Hu Que snarled curses.

“So many tribes disobeying orders, and you idiots didn’t even notice? Useless trash!”

“Serves them right—they were fools anyway!”

He vaguely heard someone mention the sub-beasts. His expression twisted.

“Go kill all the sub-beasts.”

If these people wanted to use the sub-beasts as justification for attacking him, then he would kill the sub-beasts first. Once they found no “victims,” the tribes would turn against the leaders who had rallied them, and then he could drug them all again.

Hu Que already had the whole scheme planned out.

“They’re all idiots,” he growled, staring at the sea of orcs outside.

Hu Que and Hu Nian were alike in many ways—only Hu Que hid it better. But seeing so many tribes march against him, his rage overpowered his self-control. He spoke without restraint.

The orcs behind him—the ones who had always followed him—felt a chill run down their spines. They were no different from the dead orcs he cursed. And the sub-beasts he now wanted killed had worked for him faithfully for years.

If Hu Que could discard them so easily… what about the orcs standing beside him now?

Would he kill them just as casually when they were no longer useful?

That thought flickered across multiple minds.

Still, a small group obeyed his order and headed toward the sub-beasts’ cave.

The sub-beasts had already heard the noise outside. When hundreds of orcs roared in battle, the echoes shook the entire territory.

But despite hearing the commotion, the imprisoned sub-beasts didn’t dare assume rescue. After years of confinement under the Xihe Tribe, hope was a luxury none of them trusted.

Nearby lived the sub-beasts who worked for Hu Que. To prevent escape, whenever they had no tasks, their lives were no different from prisoners—only slightly better fed. About a dozen lived together in a cave.

When they saw Hu Que’s beastmen arriving, disgust flashed in their eyes. These were the orcs who were always sent to force them into harming others.

Some sub-beasts had conscience left. They hated what they’d been forced to do, but to survive, they had obeyed.

Obey or die.

But today was different.

The beastmen shoved aside the stone blocking the cave entrance, tossed down a curt command—

“Run if you want.”

—and left without looking back.

The sub-beasts stared at each other in disbelief.

Were they… being released?

Excited, yet wary, a few bold ones ventured outside—only to find no ambush, no guards at all. Even the beastmen who usually kept watch at the foot of the mountain were gone.

Of course they were gone. The orcs who freed them had realized that even if they reported the escape, Hu Que would blame them anyway. So they cleared out every witness in the area.

The scouts returned to the cave with the news. The moment they spoke, the cave erupted with joy.

The ones imprisoned were those Hu Que hadn’t successfully brainwashed. The most obedient sub-beasts—the ones who still followed Hu Que willingly—naturally received better treatment and lived elsewhere.

So none of the sub-beasts in this cave wanted to remain in the Xihe Tribe. They left in a group, following the scouts until they reached the outside. Only then did they understand why they had been released.

Someone was attacking the Xihe Tribe.

And for them, nothing could be better.

Hu Que had assumed that after half a day, all the sub-beasts had already been killed. When he suddenly saw so many still alive, his expression twisted with fury.

“Kill them first!”

But the orcs of the small tribes wouldn’t allow it. No matter which tribe those sub-beasts came from, they were all victims—just like them. The orcs rushed in to shield the sub-beasts and clashed with Hu Que’s forces.

The small tribes were thin and underfed, but they were not weak. If they were truly weak, they would have been wiped out long ago. Years of food deprivation had simply lowered their stamina—starvation, not weakness.

Most years, they had to give the best parts of every hunt to the Xihe Tribe. To avoid punishment, they preserved whole cuts of meat specifically for tribute.

But now, having learned the truth, they had brought that food with them—not as tribute, but as rations for war.

With full stomachs and burning rage, they fought like demons. Every blow was aimed at the orcs who had stolen their families, their cubs, their futures.

The orcs of the Western River Tribe were massive and strong, but compared to the surrounding tribes, they were clumsy and slow.

“Anyone who attacks me will be punished by the Beast God!” Hu Que shouted, accustomed to using these words to intimidate others.

But now, the words only fueled their hatred.

“Still yelling?” a young orc roared. He transformed into his beast form and lunged straight at Hu Que.

Their tribe had been deceived by those very words. Their former leader had even died believing the lies.

And it had all been a sham.

Others joined in, piling onto Hu Que.

The few smart orcs on his side had fled early. Those who remained were overwhelmed and unable to save him.

Hu Que was strong—but strength meant nothing when swarmed by a dozen enraged warriors. With no allies left, he could only struggle helplessly.

“Hu Que was killed—bitten to death by us!” the old chieftain exclaimed, gesturing excitedly. The sudden movement startled Bai Tu, who was in the middle of applying medicine.

“What about the sub-beasts?” Bai Tu asked immediately. Tiger’s fate mattered little; the sub-beasts were his concern.

Before the chieftain could answer, the orc carrying him spoke. “The ones who had tribes returned home. The ones without tribes…”
He glanced hesitantly at Bai Tu.

After learning that a tribe from the Eastern Continent had exposed Hu Que, the homeless sub-beasts wanted to meet them—they were on the way now.

The old chieftain’s injuries were severe. He knew he didn’t have much time left. He had hurried here solely to bring Bai Tu the news. The others, because they were transporting captured criminals from the Western River Tribe, were moving more slowly.

“Want to come here? Of course.”
Bai Tu didn’t hesitate. He had always had a good impression of the sub-beasts. Every one he had met so far was gentle and easy to talk to.

The young beastman visibly relaxed. He glanced at the old chieftain, who had already fallen asleep from exhaustion, and whispered, “The old chief’s greatest concern is always the sub-beasts.”

The old chieftain was named Wu Shou—his surname sounded like “shaman” but used a different character, referring instead to the dark coloration of his beast form. As for what beast he actually was, no one knew; he had come from another continent decades ago, and no one in the tribe had ever seen him transform. But Wu Shou was known to have lived for more than sixty years—ancient by beastman standards—and had experienced far more than most.

“The old chief deeply regrets what he did back then,” the young beastman continued.

More than twenty years ago, shortly after becoming chief, Wu Shou had sent the tribe’s sub-beasts to the Xihe Tribe. Back then, he believed—naively—that by sending them away under the Beast God’s supposed will, the sub-beasts might survive, and the tribe would avoid the same annihilation that had befallen other tribes.

He never imagined the truth was the complete opposite.

Ever since learning the full story, Wu Shou had been tormented by regret. He would often mutter that he had no face left to meet the sub-beasts… or even his own people.

Because he fought in human form, his injuries were severe. Beastman-form attacks on a human-form target hit much harder. If someone hadn’t discovered him in time, the beastmen of the Xihe Tribe would have killed him.

Even after he was rescued, Wu Shou didn’t feel relief. The only thing he was happy about—truly happy about—was that they had won, and the sub-beasts were free at last. He didn’t care about his wounds; he didn’t even want to rest in his tribe. He insisted on coming personally to deliver the news to Bai Tu.

Once he finished speaking and heard that Bai Tu was willing to accept the sub-beasts—and that they would live here under treatment completely unlike anything in the Xihe Tribe—the tension finally left him. That was why he fell asleep the moment Bai Tu spoke.

He had pushed himself for nearly ten days. At last, he could let go.

Bai Tu continued preparing medicine while listening to the young beastman’s account.

The young man’s name was Lu Ti. He was fast—very fast—which was why he had been chosen to escort Wu Shou. The other beastmen who came with him were from the deer and horse tribes, both known for their speed.

After the downfall of the Xihe Tribe, the tribes discovered something shocking: all the food they had been offering every year had been hoarded by the shaman.

The claims that it was “for the Beast God” were blatant lies. Hu Que and the shaman had eaten the best parts themselves. They never intended to confess, but the beastmen around them certainly did. Like Hu Que’s opportunistic followers, the shaman had his own circle of clever underlings who immediately sold him out the moment trouble arose, pushing all responsibility onto him.

With hundreds of tribes handing in food every year, how could the shaman possibly use it all for worship? Each winter and rainy season, he would place a small portion in the Beast God’s shrine for show. The rest he consumed himself—or used as rewards to buy loyalty.

When tribes truly starved and came begging for help, he would distribute food… but only the worst scraps. He accepted their gratitude while mocking their foolishness behind their backs.

Upon hearing this, several tribes that had once been “helped” by the Xihe Tribe fell silent. They had always believed the Xihe Tribe to be merciful during desperate times. Some had even planned to bring the Xihe orcs who helped them back to their own tribes after the victory.

But now? They learned the truth: they had been starving because of the Xihe Tribe, and the so-called “charity” they received was the lowest-quality scraps of the food they themselves had contributed.

A deep shame settled over those beastmen. They no longer spoke up in defense of anyone.

Lu Ti then hesitated before adding, “Some sub-beasts think Hu Que is innocent. We’ve locked them up… but we’re not sure whether we should punish them.”

No one had shown mercy to the orcs who oppressed others—but they didn’t know how to deal with sub-beasts who defended Hu Que.

These sub-beasts were technically victims too. But unlike those forced into servitude, these individuals had willingly worked for Hu Que… and they had harmed or even killed cubs from other tribes. Some even targeted cubs deliberately, simply because it was “easier.”

Bai Tu didn’t hesitate. “Punishment depends on actions, not identity.”

Sub-beasts were not fundamentally different from any other beastmen. Even if they had been brainwashed, that couldn’t absolve them completely. They were pitiful—but wasn’t the pain of the beastmen and cubs they harmed also pitiful?

Besides, as Lang Qian had once said, some people would frame even their childhood friends for a slightly better life. Sub-beasts who reported other sub-beasts for escaping or disobeying orders received better treatment. Some would even step on their own people just to gain Hu Que’s trust faster.

Bai Tu genuinely liked sub-beasts, but even he wasn’t so naïve as to believe all of them were innocent. Those who framed others or harmed cubs would be punished accordingly.

Lu Ti nodded vigorously.

After finishing the questioning, Bai Tu told them to rest. “There are people guarding Chief Wu Shou.”

This courtyard was meant for the wounded. Currently, almost no beastmen were injured due to hunting; most injuries came from falling while climbing or jumping from high places. With experienced sub-beast healers assigned to the courtyard, Wu Shou didn’t need their care. Lu Ti and the others were fast runners, but far from skilled caregivers.

Lately, Bai Tu had discovered that sub-beasts indeed showed exceptional talent in medicine and herb knowledge—but not exclusively. Some male and female beastmen were also fast learners. Still, the proportions differed greatly: six or seven out of ten sub-beasts had natural herbal sensitivity; female beastmen, only one or two out of ten; male beastmen, sometimes one in dozens.

It was no wonder that more than half of all shamans on the Beast God Continent were sub-beasts—this was their innate strength.

He’d also observed that the three genders had distinct advantages: male beastmen excelled at hunting, female beastmen at gathering, and sub-beasts at identifying what was edible. These roles should have been complementary, tied closely together—yet certain selfish individuals had caused the entire continent to fall into misery.

Male and female beastmen could not distinguish poisonous plants. Even when sub-beasts tried to teach them, the knowledge was hard to pass down. Without written records, relying solely on memory was unreliable, especially with so many similar-looking plants. As a result, poisonous plants often grew unchecked in tribal territories.

Even worse, some plants were harmless alone but toxic when eaten with other foods. With sub-beasts gone, many tribes lacked the ability to avoid such dangers.

Gradually, tribes abandoned foraging and relied solely on fruits and hunted prey.

But that created another crisis: overhunting.

Every tribe hunted endlessly. Prey were caught faster than they could reproduce. Winters brought freezing deaths. The prey population sharply declined—too sharply to sustain everyone.

If things continued like this, the Beast God Continent would face a catastrophic famine in a few years.

But Bai Tu wasn’t too worried. His tribe and nearby tribes had already begun making changes. As for distant tribes, the Eastern Continent tribes had traded seeds with them before. If they followed his advice, they would be able to cultivate crops.

The Western Continent hadn’t started planting yet—but now that everyone was gathered here, he could finally bring it up.

As Bai Tu had anticipated, the beastmen of the Western Continent arrived three days after Wu Shou.

Because of their sheer numbers, they couldn’t enter the residential area like Wu Shou and Lu Ti. Instead, they were housed in the old Snow Rabbit Tribe settlement.

Although uninhabited for a long time, the place remained in excellent condition thanks to the wolf cubs, who frequently played there. Even the mess hall remained intact, complete with utensils—the cubs often came to cook.

Though the settlement was far from the residential district, no one complained. They had all come specifically to thank Bai Tu and his people. And their group was large enough that even if they weren’t allowed inside at all, no one would have dared object.

Even as temporary lodgings, this settlement was far from shabby—better than most tribes’ permanent homes. Not every tribe had the skill or habit of digging such clean, tidy underground dwellings like the Rabbit Tribe.

Because they came out of gratitude, they brought a massive amount of food—most of it plundered by the Xihe Tribe over the years. Seeing the stores made everyone realize just how much the Xihe Tribe had stolen. The surrounding tribes had starved, while the Xihe Tribe enjoyed comfort without hunting, supported entirely by hundreds of small tribes.

The food was far too much for the Xihe Tribe to ever consume, so it had all been confiscated. Some was returned to each tribe, and some was brought across the continent for Bai Tu and Lang Qian.

Bai Tu was the savior who exposed the truth. Without him, they might still be living under the Xihe Tribe’s lies. As for Lang Qian—though he had harmed tribes in the past, he had not harmed cubs, even when threatened by Hu Que. This alone was enough for the beastmen to forgive him. After all, if pain had to be endured, they would rather endure it themselves than let cubs suffer.

Lang Qian was also one of the key figures who helped expose the truth, so he was offered a share.

But neither Bai Tu nor Lang Qian accepted.

Lang Qian refused out of guilt. Although no cubs died, he had indeed drugged many beastmen. Even without casualties, he was responsible. The interrogation of Hu Nian had been Bai Tu’s idea—anyone else could have done it. Bai Tu had simply asked him for help. And he had his own motives—he wanted his freedom sooner. How could he accept such gifts now?

As for Bai Tu, his own tribe had plenty of food. He hadn’t even participated in the battle against the Xihe Tribe; all he did was remind everyone to investigate. There was no reason to accept so much gratitude for something so small.

But the Western Continent beastmen refused to give up.
Every morning before dawn, a crowd of tribal leaders gathered outside the settlement waiting for Bai Tu. The moment they spotted Lang Qi, Lang Ze, or any beastman who could speak to Bai Tu, they would immediately swarm forward, demanding he accept their gifts.

Bai Tu still didn’t want to accept the food, but he also didn’t want the beastmen waiting outside day after day. Winter was less than a month away—if so many people lingered here, it would disrupt the tribe’s preparations.

In the end, Bai Tu compromised.
He accepted their food and gave them wheat seeds, corn seeds, and sweet potatoes in return.

He had been teaching them how to plant these crops recently, and many beastmen had already learned. It was the perfect time of year to plant wheat; once they returned, they could begin immediately.

Before the group left, Bai Tu also gave them all of his newly hatched chicks and taught them how to raise them.

“I hope next year you can try raising larger prey as well,” Bai Tu said.

These tribes didn’t yet have dedicated breeding areas, so it wasn’t suitable to give them larger livestock. Winter temperatures were too harsh; big animals froze easily. But chickens were simple—one or two caves were enough, and just a bit of fodder. Even if the tribes needed extra time to prepare, chickens wouldn’t suffer much.

The beastmen who had arrived in a vast crowd also returned in a vast crowd, filled with excitement. Their biggest burden—the forced food offerings—was finally gone. Now they carried home seeds they had never even heard of.

Some sub-beasts who came along chose to stay with Bai Tu; others returned with tribes they had bonded with in the past. Bai Tu gave the returning sub-beasts herb seeds so they could treat wounds back in their tribes—even without the Xihe Tribe, they would be able to survive independently.

In short, everything was better than before.

Wu Shou’s eye injuries still hadn’t healed; both eyeballs were damaged beyond repair, and he would never see again. Even so, he was happy. After delivering the news, he refused to stay in the Snow Rabbit Tribe. He insisted on returning home with his beastmen.

Orcs had deep attachments to their tribes. Wu Shou had joined his current tribe as a child. It was home—more than any other place could be. Even if he could no longer see it, he still wanted to remain there.

Bai Tu respected the choices of every beastman. Since Wu Shou wished to return, Bai Tu didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he taught a sub-beast—who would be accompanying Wu Shou—how to prepare medicine, and gave them herb seeds and medicinal plants to take back. With that sub-beast present, Wu Shou would receive proper care.

He also gave herb seeds to all the sub-beasts choosing to return home, so they could help their new tribes. The sub-beasts who chose to stay were handed over to Bai Chi, who would teach them herbs and writing.

As for those who had committed wrongs—they didn’t receive such good treatment.
They were all assigned to labor reform.

Even within “labor reform,” however, there were levels of difficulty. Tasks like turning soil and preparing fields were the hardest; digging holes was moderate; sowing seeds and filling holes were easier.

The beastmen who had done wrong naturally received the heaviest tasks.
This made work easier for the sub-beasts, and Bai Tu didn’t need to assign additional help.

With more hands free, Bai Tu had the idle orcs dig new cellars.

The sweet potato harvest was far larger than expected; the second batch had grown exceptionally well. They all needed to be dug up before winter and stored properly. The existing cellars weren’t nearly enough.

Bai Tu never let beastmen with a history of wrongdoing handle food storage; that job was reserved for reliable tribe members.

The Western Continent tribes had conveniently solved the West River Tribe’s biggest crisis; the food Bai Tu had prepared for extended travel was no longer needed. Aside from a small portion given to messengers, most of it remained untouched in the warehouse.

When Lang Ze went to fetch supplies, he saw the stockpile and immediately asked Bai Tu if they could eat it.

The wolf cubs had been eyeing the canned food ever since Bai Tu began making it. At that time, Bai Tu insisted they couldn’t eat it yet—he only gave them tiny pieces of meat. Even those tiny bites had made them ecstatic.

Now, with piles of delicious sealed cans practically shining before them, how could they not be tempted? But remembering Bai Tu’s earlier orders, the cubs restrained themselves and asked properly.

Bai Tu considered for a moment. Since the Xihe Tribe had already been dealt with, the travel rations were no longer needed. But eating canned food—meticulously sterilized and sealed—right now would be wasteful.

Canned food could last years. And the tribe didn’t lack fresh food.

Even though the wolf cubs were giving him their most pitiful looks, Bai Tu shook his head firmly.

“Not yet. If you want meat, tell the canteen to prepare fresh meat.”

Besides, if Bai An went traveling or visiting other tribes soon, the canned food would be the perfect road ration—convenient, clean, filling. Much better than dried meat.

“Okay…”
The wolf cubs trudged off in despair, their patrol that day full of sighs.

Without canned food, life had no meaning.

Their mood only worsened when they encountered the boastful White Bear Tribe during patrol.

The polar bear orcs, much like their leader Xiong Liao, shared one trait—they loved to show off.

They had just finished a lunch of beef stew with potatoes, a dish their chef had recently mastered. They were so delighted that they couldn’t resist bragging to the wolves.

“What are you so happy about? It’s not like you’ll get to eat that again tomorrow,” the wolves grumbled.

This time, the polar bears fell silent. The wolves were right—their potato supply was limited, and polar bears had enormous appetites. The potatoes had vanished fast.

Seeing the bears suddenly deflate lifted the wolves’ spirits considerably.
Sharing misery really did work wonders.

After parting from the bears, the wolves sank back into longing for canned food.

When patrol ended, the wolves returned to their usual spot.

Lang Ze sniffed the air. Something felt strange. But since the polar bears had just passed through, he assumed the scent belonged to them.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the wolves, the polar bears had also noticed the scent—and assumed it came from the wolves.

The smell was faint, so both sides simply thought it came from the other tribe. After all, they didn’t know each other well—certainly not well enough to sniff at each other closely.

“Boss, I want to eat!” one wolf cub suddenly blurted.

The others instantly echoed him.

“Me too!”
“Same here!”
“I want to eat so much!”

Their voices rose in waves, driving Lang Ze so crazy he covered his ears. Much better not to listen…

The sun was warm. He felt sleepy.

Lang Ze’s eyes slowly drooped.

“Boss,” a cub shook him awake, “should we go look for the map again?”

The other cubs nodded frantically. Yes—let’s go beg again! What if it works this time?

“Fine. I’ll ask again.” Lang Ze stood up with determination.

And if it still doesn’t work…

…he’d cling to Bai Tu’s leg and cry.

He’d heard rumors that Bai Tu gave in whenever someone did that. He didn’t know who started the rumor—but everyone said so.

Lang Ze led the cubs toward the residential area.

On the other side, an orc dropped from a tree at the edge of the Snow Rabbit Tribe territory, landing with a thud before scrambling to his feet.

“Chief, their tribe really has no food. The patrol team is howling with hunger.”

The patrol team was one of the tribe’s most important groups. If they were hungry, then the situation must be dire.

Although the spies only dared to skulk along the outskirts of Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf territory, never approaching the center, they were confident—neither tribe had any food stores.

The leading orc nodded in satisfaction. “As expected. They gave away their food to those small Western Continent tribes.”

Foolish—utterly foolish. They couldn’t even feed their own people.

The young beastman beside him asked eagerly, “Chief, when do we attack?”

They had trained for an entire year. Their original target had been the Black Forest Tribe—but someone else had destroyed it first. They had returned to target the West River Tribe—but that tribe had also been wiped out. The scattered small tribes of the Western Continent weren’t worth the effort.

It was better to take Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf territory directly.

The leading orc raised a hand. “No rush. Spread the word to the surrounding tribes. Any tribe willing to join the attack on the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes will receive ten baskets of meat.”

He had learned something valuable from observing the defeated tribes:
Food could buy allies—and reduce casualties.