Chapter 69: I Am Back

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: I Am Back

Popo lay back against a pile of furs inside his tent, Foto kneeling beside him.

She fed him slices of fruit from the underground store, one piece at a time, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary each time.

She wore little, even barbarian customs demanded more clothing, her skin moist, reflecting the firelight.

She went quiet mid-motion, fruit still held between her fingers.

Popo noticed immediately. "What."

"It’s nothing."

"Foto."

She set the fruit down slowly, lips curling into a practiced pout. "It’s just... Lego. He looked at me strangely earlier today."

Popo’s brow furrowed. "Strangely how?"

"Wrongly." Her eyes dropped, voice going soft and wounded. "Like he had no respect for me. Like I wasn’t... your woman at all."

Something hardened in Popo’s expression. He knew why. Everyone did.

Foto was a Gatherer. According to barbarian culture, her kind existed for the lowest reason. To perform the lowest of labors, including pleasing warriors whenever they had excessive tension built up.

It was not uncommon to see one Gatherer service two or more barbarian warriors a night.

It was their norm.

As such, they were treated as grass to be stepped on in Barbarian society.

Even though more than ninety percent of the population had died, culture norms did not disappear.

However, after having Foto continuously for the last few days, Popo had began thinking otherwise.

He sat up, calling out sharply. "Someone get me Lego."

Lego arrived minutes later, confused, bowing low the moment he stepped inside the tent.

"You’re to go without rations for the next two days," Popo said flatly.

Lego blinked. "Chief. What... What did I do?"

Popo’s eyes flicked toward Foto, who kept her gaze lowered, the faintest satisfied curve at the corner of her mouth.

Lego frowned slightly, "But Chief I am a Warrior and she is a Gatherer."

"SHE IS MY WOMAN." Popo bellowed, shutting Lego up.

Something uneasy passed behind Lego’s eyes, but he held it back, "Yes my Chief."

"Just go," Popo said.

Lego hesitated, clearly wanting to protest further, but barbarian custom left no room to question the chief. He bowed again and retreated, confusion still written across his face.

"My chief!" Foto threw herself, chest first on Popo. Her softness touched him, and he felt himself twitch underneath.

"You do the sweetest things for me." She placed a kiss on his lips, "that’s why you are the bravest warrior ever."

She noticed his proud smile at her praises and fed him more, fingers dancing on his bare chest towards his already rising member. "My bravest, strongest, most adored. Even the heroes of legends don’t strike my heart as you do. No one does" She grabbed it, eyes fixed on his, "and no one..." she stroked a bit, his fingers already grabbing her waist.

"... Strikes my loins either."

"Not even my brother?" Popo raised a brow.

"You mean that coward that ran before the duel." She rolled her eyes.

He frowned a bit, obviously displeased by her calling his brother names. She caught it, pulling away.

"Why are we talking about your brother when you should be having..." she leaned against a tent pole, waist arched invitingly.

Popo smiled as he hurried to grab her.

The tent flap burst open, interrupting them.

One of the tribesmen stumbling in, breathless.

"It’s reckless to enter my tent like that," Popo snapped, already rising.

"Chief — we’re under attack. Direlions. A whole pack of them, coming in from the northern forest ridge."

Popo’s eyes widened, moving before the man finished speaking. He grabbed his weapon and burst out of the tent.

People poured out of their tents on every side.

Popo moved fastest, still tying his loincloth into place as he ran, axe gripped tight in one fist. Other Barbarians fell in around him, blades and axes drawn for battle.

Even Jaja stumbled out, leaning heavily on Coco’s shoulder. He had an axe clutched in his free hand despite how visibly his wounds still slowed him.

They all gathered at the edge of the village, eyes scanning the treeline.

"What is that?" someone shouted, pointing.

"Is someone... riding them?"

A few of the sharper-eyed barbarians squinted into the distance, the shapes resolving slowly.

"Is that Kiki?"

"Wait." A pause. "That’s Milkshake22. MILKSHAKE22!" The voice cracked with disbelief. "He’s back. He actually came back, right in time for the duel!"

Whispers rippled through the gathered crowd, some frowning, some muttering, all of them watching as six Dire Lions came to a halt directly in front of the village.

These massive white things, looked intimidating enough that several barbarians instinctively stepped back.

The one Victor rode let out a deep, rolling roar as it stopped, and the crowd flinched as one.

Victor slid down from its back.

Popo stood at the front of the gathered warriors. His jaw was tight, fingers flexing around his axe. He stared at Victor and the Direlions in disbelief.

’How did he tame these things?’ The thought hovered in his mind.

Regardless, he had a position he represented. He would not flinch.

And so as Victor stepped forward, so did he.

"Which is it," he said flatly. "Are you here for the duel, or are you here to kneel before your CHIEF?"

Victor quickly noticed that Popo did not say brother. It was the kind of greeting one challenged warrior gave another.

Still, buried somewhere beneath the hardness in Popo’s eyes, Victor caught a flicker of something softer, mostly buried now, but not entirely gone.

Foto rushed up beside Popo, keeping a careful distance behind him.

Kiki’s eyes landed on her instantly, jaw tightening, something sharp and unreadable crossing her face.

Victor caught it. And suddenly a few things clicked into place at once.

She’d known. Of course she’d known. It wasn’t possible she hadn’t—that her betrothed was having another woman day and night.

It was not that Barbarians were not polygamous. But Kiki was of a higher social caste than Foto, and according to traditions, Popo was to respect her and not have another until they had consummated their union.

Which raised an uncomfortable question Victor didn’t have time to sit with right now, whether the knowledge that Popo was having another woman had anything to do with why she’d followed him to the Boundary in the first place.

He pushed the thought aside and stepped forward, eyes locked on Popo.

"I’m here for the duel. As our ancestors demand, and as our customs require. I am no coward."

Popo’s grip tightened on his axe, raising it slightly.

"There’s no rush," Victor said, calm and unhurried. "I came myself, didn’t I? How about we begin in an hour."

Popo’s eyes narrowed. "Looking for excuses again? Are you afraid?"

"No." Victor let his gaze slide briefly toward Foto, then back to Popo, letting the silence do the talking. "Just figured you’d want time to recover. You’ve clearly been spending a lot of energy lately."

A ripple went through the gathered crowd, whispers and knowing looks were exchanged. It wasn’t as though the chief’s tent kept Foto’s noises contained at night. Everyone already knew.

Popo’s jaw ticked, something sharp flashing behind his eyes before he forced it down. He let out a short, humorless snicker instead. "Fine. One hour."

Victor nodded and walked past him without another word, eyes forward, ignoring the stares following his every step. He looked different now, taller somehow, harder, the Direlion’s mane draped heavy over one shoulder lending him an air the old Victor never had.

Kiki fell in behind him as he moved through the village, the six Direlions trailing silently behind.

(Author’s note: Yes, I do accept gifts, golden tickets and powerstones Thank you. Also, I’d love your reviews)