The moment I stepped into the cave, the smell alone was torture for a modern person.
High humidity and the scent of moss; acrid smoke from the campfire burning constantly; raw meat piled in one corner mixed with human body odor.
The ceiling was low, and the smoke, unable to find a way out, lingered at eye level.
The children were coughing incessantly—it was hardly a good environment.
A war right from the tutorial? The structure was similar to Part 1.
*What did I do here again…?*
Naturally.
In the game, it was a frontal charge.
But this was reality.
I figured I should use my head, even if only a little.
I sat by the fire pit and surveyed my surroundings.
Baskets woven from leather and leaves, dried roots, broken obsidian shards, half-charred firewood.
The household goods looked more or less usable.
*Should I consider this roughly the middle Stone Age?*
They appeared to use chipped stone tools, but I wasn't sure if other tribes did as well.
The men had eyes filled with killing intent.
Probably the aftermath of battle.
"We attack at dawn tomorrow."
"Attack…?"
"Dolgae Baram! What is attack!?"
"Right."
"We don't know attack."
"Hmm."
It seemed the word "attack" itself didn't exist.
Still, it was fine.
Because there was the universal language of body language.
I supplemented the meaning with gestures, intonation, and movements.
"When the enemies have fallen asleep."
Then I mimed slicing a throat with my finger.
"Kill them secretly."
"Oooooh!"
"Good idea!"
"As expected of Dolgae Baram! Smart!"
Just because it was the primitive era didn't mean their intelligence was underdeveloped.
The brain capacity of people in this era was no different from modern humans.
They were capable of thinking about what effects a surprise attack would have.
Before the meal, I moved the fire toward the outside of the cave, making a new fire pit near the entrance.
I selected dry firewood to maintain a low flame, and set up flat stones beside the fire to create a reflector, so the heat came forward while the smoke rose upward.
For ventilation, I cleared away wet leaves from a blocked space above the entrance to make a path.
The primitives watched my actions intently.
I was the largest among them, which meant I was the strongest.
It was only natural for the strong to lead the tribe.
After doing this, the sound of children coughing lessened.
It wasn't that no smoke entered inside, but at least it meant they didn't have to suffer with a fire burning in the center of the cave.
"Smart Dolgae Baram!"
"Let's eat."
"Bap? What is bap?"
"Hungry! To fight, must eat!"
"Uooo!"
Rice, of all things.
This was the foraging age; there was no way rice existed.
Speaking in broken words, I felt like I was becoming a primitive myself.
*
The meal was wild boar meat.
It wasn't aged at all and smelled rancid.
But for protein and to sustain this massive frame, I had to eat a lot.
Chomp, chomp!
A sour stench shot right up.
It was only natural in an era without refrigerators, but to think I would have to eat this to survive from now on…
Of course, that was easy to say with a full belly.
Unless it was winter, I would have to get used to food that smelled rancid.
*Even nobles ate meat with a sour taste without a second thought until the Middle Ages.*
If I couldn't do anything about the quality of the meat, I had to at least cook it more thoroughly.
Before starting the game, I had invested perks related to survival, but eating the wrong thing would likely send me to my grave.
I picked up a palm-sized piece, flattened it as thin as possible, skewered it on a stick, and grilled it.
I adjusted the distance from the fire and the time so the inside would heat up before the outside burned.
The women followed my movements and flattened theirs even thinner.
Then the other tribesmen also began flattening and grilling the meat after me.
Even this much would kill a considerable portion of harmful bacteria.
The taste had improved a bit as well.
*
After the meal, before falling asleep.
A kingdom of animals unfolded.
Without anyone saying a word, they tangled together and indulged in the flesh—it was absurd beyond words.
*Wasn't the human glans mushroom-shaped in order to scoop out another male's semen?*
Modern people didn't think deeply about it since they were just born that way, but falling into this era, I understood why such research had been conducted.
In an era with short lifespans, passing on genes was more important than anything else.
Especially now, right before war.
The overflowing desire to leave behind descendants despite possibly dying in battle was the most natural male instinct.
The sight of nearly twenty men and women, excluding children, tangled together in the center having intercourse was an enormous culture shock, but an old man (late thirties) approached me.
"Dolgae Baram, won't you make children?"
*Was his name Geomeun Dol?*
He was the eldest of this tribe and served the role of elder.
He taught children and passed down knowledge to the young.
That even the elder encouraged an orgy—truly a lawless society.
I shook my head.
"I need to conserve stamina. Tell them to keep it moderate as well."
"As expected of Dolgae Baram! You have a point!"
Geomeun Dol approached the men and women engaged in the orgy and beat them apart with a wooden club.
"…"
To be in the middle of heated pistoning and get hit with a wooden club…
*It's not like he's beating mating dogs, what the…*
Naturally, the men flared up.
"Why! Leaving descendants is our duty!"
"Dolgae Baram says to conserve stamina. We must rise early to kill the enemy; if we devote ourselves to making descendants, we cannot fight."
"Tch… If it's Dolgae Baram's word."
"Instead, if we kill the Yellow Tribe bastards and plunder their women, we can enjoy as much as we want!"
"Uwo!"
Orgy after plunder.
It was enough to make one's mind grow hazy.
There are kids here, is this really okay?
*
Early dawn.
There was no way to gauge the time at all, but fortunately, I could roughly tell by the direction the moon was setting.
In this regard, the primitives' instincts were more accurate.
The common delusion modern people had was that primitives were stupid.
Having come here myself, that was absolutely not the case.
They had to know how to distinguish all kinds of poisons, and since survival methods changed with the seasons, the knowledge passed down was considerable.
That was why they left murals as well.
Without writing, they had to prevent the loss of knowledge in such ways.
When game and fruit to forage ran out, they had to move, so there were limits.
Geomeun Dol roughly knew the outline of the operation, so when the time came, he woke me.
"Dolgae Baram."
My eyes snapped open.
Had I fallen asleep without realizing?
My nerves were quite thick indeed.
To sleep soundly in such a situation.
I quietly woke the men one by one.
Reviving the embers marked the beginning of preparations.
I rubbed wet ashes from the fire pit on my ankles and calves, and applied a thin layer of dirt on my face.
A means to reduce body odor and keep bugs away.
I put on crude shoes woven from plants.
I had thought they all went barefoot, but that wasn't the case.
When going to war, even stepping on a small pebble could create an opening to suffer a fatal wound from the enemy, so they wore handcrafted shoes made by the women.
They felt even cruder than straw sandals.
Still, they were far better than nothing.
"We move."
A nod.
As I took the lead, the primitives followed in a line.
Fortunately, it was a headwind.
If anyone with a keen sense of smell were present, they might have caught the scent carried in the wind.
A quiet forest.
Rustle. Rustle.
Only the sound of fallen leaves being crushed underfoot could be heard.
Had we moved for about thirty minutes?
Traces of the opposing tribe appeared.
No wonder conflict had broken out when they were this close.
Human footprints, marks of ash-covered sticks, traces of chipped stone tool production, etc.
Human and animal skulls were hung about as well, giving quite a gruesome feeling.
Around the Yellow Tribe bastards' territory, there were low-lying branch traps, and the leaves covering them were arranged excessively evenly.
Crude traps.
I lightly pressed one with a long stick.
With a *tak* sound, a leather snare sprang up.
The force was weak but sufficient to bind an ankle.
Going deeper, sentries beyond a crude fence came into view.
*Do they live in huts?*
That wasn't bad either, but it had the weakness of being vulnerable to beast or enemy attacks.
The advantages would be no fear of smoke suffocation and ease of retreat.
"We wait."
Two sentries were posted at the entrance leading into the village.
I didn't know if they maintained such strict vigilance normally, but it seemed they were especially vigilant because of the war.
One bastard held a spear made from flaked obsidian, and the other held a stone axe.
*If only we had bows.*
I roughly knew how to make a bow.
Playing the game, all the materials came out.
When the war ended, I would have to research and start by making a bow.
The moon was setting, and the sounds of the forest changed.
Even the wolves' howls disappeared.
The silence before dawn.
*Srrk.*
As I raised my body, tribesmen revealed themselves one by one from the silent forest where there had been nothing.
It is law that humans are most vulnerable before sunrise.
I didn't know if such military strategy existed in the primitive era, but anyone with even a slight interest in war would know this as common sense.
I checked my physical condition once more.
Everyone reapplied the ash and dirt they had brought, and applied thin resin on their weapons to reduce slipping.
"Let's go."
Led by me, they charged in swiftly.
*Will it work?*
I threw it at the head of one sentry who was nodding off while clutching a stone axe.
The stone axe thrown from barely three meters hit squarely, making a sound like a bursting watermelon.
*Puaak!*
Blood splattered, and the bastard beside him woke from his sleep.
*Srrk!*
"Krrrk."
I slashed his throat with a stone knife made from flaked obsidian.
His vocal cords severed, he only gurgled up blood before dying.
"Take care of them as quietly as possible!"
After giving the order, I charged in holding the stone knife.