Chronicles of Primordial Wars

Chapter 1 – The Person in Front, Your Pants Are Slipping

Translated by FlowerBridgeToo

(Temporary took it from moonbunnycafe, as it is down)

In a cave, lying down everywhere in disorder were twenty children. A layer of thin, ragged hide covered around seven children. The others who weren’t covered by the hide either had their own, or they had to shrink in a ball at the side. But no matter if they were covered or shrunk into a ball, they sleep very soundly.

Since it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time and there were many people sleeping, there was a very heavy stench lingering about the cave. In their surroundings, there were bore air vents, allowing sunlight to enter, which barely permitted some light in the dark cave.

Underneath the air vent, on one side of the cave, a young child clad in torn tide was sleeping there. However, he was different from the others. There was also a large dog that slept by his side, nearly the same size as him.

Shao Xuan opened his eyes. Seeing the sunlight that had already shone to his shoulders, he rubbed his eyes, crawled up, and tidied up the dry grass laid underneath him. Seeing Shao Xuan actions, the large dog with initially closed eyes quickly rose and obediently knelt by his side so as to let Shao Xuan pick up the dry grass it was just on.

After bundling the grass together, Shao Xuan walked out of the cave with one hand holding the bundle of dry grass, and the other holding the dog leash, which was made out of rope.

Arriving at such a primitive tribe–like area in such an ineffable manner, becoming a small brat in the tribe located in the desolate wilderness. This body was very weak, as it likely hadn’t been able to heal from an illness. Ever since Shao Xuan woke up from that body, over half a year had passed. Even if he didn’t get used to it, he could only grit his teeth and bear with it. Only survival was the most important.

Shao Xuan never would have expected to truly come to a place like that. There were great differences from the primitive tribes of the Stone Age he had learnt from before when it was compared to this. Their appearances did not look anything special, but their essence was different.

Have you ever seen an ordinary person carrying a small water tank–sized rock with a single hand scrolling around aimlessly on the streets?

Have you ever seen an ordinary person jump three stories high—without the assistance of any tool—and stand stably after jumping down from a ten-meter tall three?

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Shao Xuan had never seen that in his past life, but in this one . . . he sees it every day!

As for the cave he just came out of, its original name was “Lying Down Cow Cave” because the appearance of the cave was like a cow that was lying down. It was named by the tribe’s “shaman” back then; however, a thousand years had since passed. As the years and months replaced one another, the tribe, as it reproduced, built houses outside the cave. As a result, the cave was used as a place for orphans that were taken in by the tribe. Henceforth, it was named as the “Children’s Cave” by the tribe’s people. The children who lived inside had no parents to take care of them, nor were there anyone in the tribe who were willing to take them in as their own. So, all in all, the “Children’s Cave” was the tribe’s orphanage.

After Shao Xuan arrived at that place, he hadn’t seen people from other tribes. Which meant in the vicinity of their mountain range, there was only one tribe, their “Flaming Horn” tribe.

In the isolated tribe, it was a life of self-sufficiency.

Whilst pulling the dog, Shao Xuan walked about in leisure.

Shortly after, he saw an incongruously sized wooden house. Some of its components were also wood combined with things such as rocks, grass, and dirt. In comparison to the one before, this one, made of wood and rocks, was slightly larger, and it looked also a bit sturdier. That house could be counted as a mansion, located near the foot of the mountain.

But no matter if it was the wooden houses or the wooden and rock “mansions”, in Shao Xuan’s eyes, they were constructions that were horrendously simple. However, after staying there for such a long time, Shao Xuan did yearn for a wooden house that belonged to himself. But, that stage could not be realized.

At that time, there were already people starting to move about. The men had already took out their stone tools for grinding so it’d be more convenient the next time they went hunting with already sharpened stone knives. The women too had their own work—sewing hides, drying foods, etc.

When Shao Xuan passed, quite a few people’s gazes looked over. Not at Shao Xuan, but at the organism Shao Xuan was pulling. In their eyes were drooling and greed as they swallowed their saliva. In their perspective, Shao Xuan was pulling a huge chunk of meat, enough for them to have several meals. The eyes of those who woke up early to work yet still had an empty stomach turned green; however, after they saw the thing worn around its neck, they—unwillingly—endured their longing to take the wolf away. That was the Marking Tile of the “shaman”, meaning it belonged to the shaman. They did not dare to touch it. In their eyes, Shao Xuan was also merely helping the shaman to look after the wolf.

Yes, it was actually a wolf by Shao Xuan’s side. It was born within the mountain ranges, but when it was young, a warrior hunting from the tribe found it. He brought it back so Shao Xuan could eat it, but coincidentally, the tribe’s shaman passed by, left a Marking Tile that had the marking of a shaman, then departed. Shao Xuan named the wolf “Caesar”, the name in which Shao Xuan named his former life’s dog. He raised Caesar like he did a dog, all the way up until the present.

The thoughts of the people there were very odd. Clearly, they respected the shaman quite a bit, yet their attitude when facing Shao Xuan did not change much even after seeing the shaman giving a Marking Tile to Shao Xuan. The only thing different was them holding out on their desire to cut Caesar up and eat it. As for the other areas, they did nothing more than what they’d usually do. After all, the shaman did not tell everyone to help Shao Xuan. Where would such a grand character such as the shaman have time to pay attention to a child? As time passed, all of them got used to a child that had a wolf. And, ever since Caesar was a wolf cub who didn’t even have a complete row of teeth, the shaman hadn’t appeared again.

But what made the people near the foot of mountain baffled was why did Shao Xuan call Caesar a dog?

And, what was a dog?

However, that question did not linger for long because no one paid attention to it. They didn’t bother paying attention to it, as they were busy focusing on other things—food.

Shao Xuan was already used to the surrounding gazes. As though nothing were happening, he continued pulling Caesar and walking. Even if the tribe’s people were greedy, they would not go and rob the shaman’s things. As Shi Qi had said: shamans’ position in tribes was very high. As for why the person residing on the mountain’s “area for influential people”, the shaman whose position was the highest—or second-highest—in the tribe, would give Shao Xuan, who slept in the “Children’s Cave”—a very lowly existence—such an important Marking Tile, it was due to a term Shao Xuan mentioned back then—”raise”. Originally, Shao Xuan said back then to raise the little wolf cub Caesar before eating it, and coincidentally, the shaman heard those words. He allowed Shao Xuan to raise it, and in order to prevent the others in the tribe from taking it away, the shaman left a Marking Tile for Shao Xuan, which was put over his neck.

The “shaman” had great interest in raising, but in over half a year, the old man hadn’t even appeared once. As a result, the impression Shao Xuan had on the old man was—an irresponsible old swindler. Was it easy raising a wolf? Every day, he was being glared at by the people surrounding him. Without a powerful mental endurability, he would have already gone insane.

In short, raising Caesar was completely because of a coincidence.

How difficult was life! Although the tribe took care of the food issue in the Children’s Cave, he was still hungry.

Shao Xuan helplessly sighed. He looked forward, then the corners of his eyes twitched.

Before him, on his shoulder, a person was holding a stone club—two meters long in the shape of a baseball bat, yet a lot thicker. That was really quite heavy, and according to Shao Xuan’s past life’s standards, even if he could lift it up it would be very tiring. Yet, that person seemed to hold it as effortlessly as holding an ordinary hoe. With yawns, he languidly walked on the mountain, probably heading to the hunter group in order to discuss the matter of hunting.

That as a normal person in this place. As for Shao Xuan, he belonged in the weak collection of people who hadn’t have their Power of Totem awakened. When he reached around ten years old, his Power of Totem would be awakened, and only then would be count as an ordinary warrior who had the ability to hunt outside. The Power of Totem was the only level of measure that determined if one were able to become a hunting warrior or not in the tribe.

As for what exactly was the Power of Totem, Shao Xuan did not know. Perhaps he would understand when the time comes.

At that instant, the uncle before Shao Xuan who was carrying a stone club with an appearance of sleepiness had simply not seen the hide he wore as shorts nearly slid down to his knees. In broad daylight, he continued scroll about as though nothing were wrong. There were no reactions from the surrounding people when they saw it either.

Shao Xuan held it in, but ultimately, still said, “The Uncle who’s carrying a club in front, your pants are slipping!”

Only after Shao Xuan’s third yell did the person in front of him turn around with a yawn. He glanced over Shao Xuan, his line of sight pausing on Caesar for around half a minute, then looked down at his slid pants. Afterwards, he calmly pulled them up, fastened the belt, and continued walking towards the mountain with the club on his shoulder.

Shao Xuan no longer said anything.

In the perspective of the tribe’s people . . . Etiquette? Shame? What’s that? Can you eat it? If you can’t, what the hell is the point of talking about it?