"Uh! That's impossible!..."
"Why?"
"They can't sustain thousands of warriors! Even if there were such a powerful tribe, bringing thousands of warriors here, they would eventually leave!... Because so many warriors gathered here would simply not survive! There aren't that many animals to hunt in the forest, and they can't live on barnyard grass. There simply aren't enough flood-resistant farmlands here, unless they cut down forests and drain swamps!..."
"Therefore, this vast woodland can only sustain a few hundred tribes! This is the limit allowed by the Heavenly Divine and the Mountain Spirits!..."
Maha Agudah swung the Stone Hammer down hard onto the ground. Then, he looked into Zuwaro's eyes and coldly threatened.
"And with the same number of people, we fear no one! Including you, the Boat-Using Tribe!..."
Zuwaro blinked, pondered for a while, then smiled and asked.
"Maha Agudah, you're here for this patch of Millet Fields and the earthen huts to survive the winter?..."
