I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 815: Racing in the Primitive Era
Chapter 815: Racing in the Primitive Era
“Dong! Dong! Dong!…”
Beneath the tall, upright Green Sparrow flags, Han Cheng gripped the drumsticks with both hands, bringing them down one after another. Each strike produced a muffled boom that spread outward in all directions.
In front of him, the frequently trained members of the Green Sparrow Tribe formed a flowing line.
The rattan-helmeted rattan-shield team held shields almost as tall as a person, arranged one after another, forming a shield wall that rose from the ground.
Bronze spikes protruded from the front of the shield wall, glinting coldly. As the shield wall advanced, the spikes pressed forward, radiating an overwhelming sense of oppression.
Behind the shield wall, the long-halberd unit, also clad in rattan armor and helmets, extended their bronze halberds through the gaps between shields, pointing obliquely forward.
The rattan-armored archers and sling teams lined the left and right rear wings of the formation, holding drawn bows or slings loaded with copper projectiles.
With every strike of Han Cheng’s drumsticks, the neatly arranged units advanced one step at a time. The speed was moderate, but the uniform progression created an immense psychological pressure.
The observing old primitive man, along with members of the Wind Tribe and neighboring Wind Tribe, watched the orderly formation in stunned silence. Sun-tanned faces turned pale as awe and shock overtook them.
The drumbeats and synchronized steps seemed to grip their hearts. Every beat, every step made their hearts thud violently.
Before today, the old primitive man believed the best way to fight was a fast, direct rush—striking before the opponent could react. This philosophy applied not only to combat but also to hunting.
Many people in the era shared this thinking, not just the old primitive man.
Yet now, seeing the Green Sparrow Tribe’s military advance, the old primitive man felt their entrenched beliefs shaken, doubting the effectiveness of their old methods.
Looking at the spiked shield wall and the halberds jutting forward, they shivered involuntarily.
Facing such opponents, the faster you ran, the sooner you met them—and the sooner you died.
“Ready! Fire!”
The formation pushed forward. When they were about thirty meters from the scarecrows set up ahead, someone in the archers and sling teams on the wings shouted the command.
At the command, the first row drew bows and fired at the scarecrows, standing still afterward. The second row quickly advanced past the first row and fired again.
As the second row released arrows, the first row had already reloaded and surged forward, firing at the targets.
Alternating fire between rows sent wave after wave of arrows crashing into the scarecrows, which fell pierced by the bolts.
Simultaneously, the slingers unleashed their attack. Each sling whistled through the air as projectiles flew, smashing into the scarecrows with loud “puff” sounds. Two scarecrows were knocked flat to the ground.
“Dong!”
“Kill!”
“Dong!”
“Kill!”
As the formation advanced to within ten paces of the scarecrows, every step accompanied by a drumbeat, the soldiers shouted “Kill!” in unison.
Step by step, they advanced. The halberd bearers thrust violently, retracting and thrusting again with each shout.
The rattan-shield team, holding shields with spikes, also attacked. With synchronized yells, their bronze-tipped shields pierced the scarecrows and knocked the remaining ones down.
After the advance, the area once lined with scarecrows became a flattened field; all had been toppled.
“Clang! Clang! Clang!…”
The shrill sound of gongs signaled the formation to stop and retreat.
The retreat was orderly, not a chaotic flight, maintaining the formation while slowly moving backward.
“Clang!”
Han Cheng struck the gong heavily, and the rearward-moving formation halted. Compared to the advance, the formation looked slightly looser but still held its basic structure, ready for adjustment and a renewed attack.
The old primitive man of the Wind Tribe sat on the ground, pale and trembling, utterly shocked by the silent, disciplined formation.
When arrows flew, the soldiers shouted, and halberds thrust forward, he could no longer withstand it and collapsed.
Many others sat similarly, unable to rise, faces pale, bodies trembling.
No wonder the fierce Flying Snake Tribe was annihilated!
Facing such unstoppable forces, it was inevitable. The Green Sparrow Tribe was not only kind and wealthy but also possessed overwhelmingly powerful military strength.
Some were terrified, some exhilarated, hearts racing with an emotion they had never felt during hunts—pure adrenaline.
“Attention!”
“At ease!”
“Align right!”
“Look forward!”
“Attention!”
Han Cheng placed down the gong and shouted a series of commands that the old primitive man could not understand.
While they puzzled over the meaning, the retreating formation immediately sprang into motion. In moments, it regained perfect order, as if the advance had never occurred.
This alone was astonishing, but the old primitive man was about to witness something even more incredible.
“This performance is worse than usual training! We’ve practiced this formation countless times—why can’t we advance and retreat so orderly?!”
Han Cheng barked, and the previously smug onlookers felt their pride vanish, standing like children who had made a mistake, avoiding his gaze.
“Train more, bleed less in battle! How many times have I said this? Why can’t you remember? Now, everyone, fifty push-ups each as punishment!”
After the punishment order, everyone sighed. Compared to push-ups or running, they feared Han Cheng’s reprimand far more.
One by one, they performed push-ups, ing completion afterward.
With extended training, even animals could understand some commands; for instance, most deer and donkeys would move forward when the trainer shouted, without whips.
The Green Sparrow Tribe’s years of training, combined with the people’s trust in Han Cheng, made such precise execution unsurprising in retrospect.
The old primitive man’s jaws dropped, expressions blank.
This… how could this be?
Even sitting formations were disciplined enough to be scolded by Han Cheng.
The lesson was clear: strict demands produced excellence and obedience.
“Dismissed!”
After push-ups and formation adjustments, Han Cheng ended the military drill, the first and most important event of the sports festival.
The warriors removed their armor, and the women took the stage for a shuttlecock-kicking competition in groups of ten.
The feathered shuttlecocks, dyed bright colors, fluttered like butterflies as they were kicked.
The solemn battlefield became lively and joyous.
“One hundred thirty-one! One hundred thirty-two!…”
After two rounds, the top eight were selected for ranking, determining rewards.
Bai Xue, now a two-child mother and a talented bride, was the competitor. People formed a wide circle, counting aloud as she kicked.
By the two-hundredth kick, the shuttlecock finally fell, prompting collective sighs. Han Cheng silently admired her, understanding the terror of innate talent.
“Ready! Run!”
Along the chalked track, thirty competitors sprinted at Han Cheng’s command, the gong striking sharply.
The most impressive was the old primitive man from the Wind Tribe. Despite a slow start, his long legs carried him rapidly, overtaking all others.
Three hundred meters later, he had already taken a commanding lead, proving why he had escaped the Flying Snake Tribe’s pursuit.
“Ha ha…”
The old primitive man, finishing second, smiled broadly.
“Down!”
The second senior brother used his hands and legs to trip his opponent in a wrestling match, sending him to the ground with a shout.
“Thud… thud… thud…”
Archers lined up, firing arrows into the targets with satisfying impacts.
Everyone shot ten arrows, aiming for the red center of concentric circles. Hits and rings easily determine scores.
Archery results were clear: first place went to a thin, agile man previously enslaved by the Flying Snake Tribe. Freed by Han Cheng, he was now a second-level citizen with access to weapons. His talent allowed him to excel in archery within a year.
He beamed with pride, acknowledging that his success was partially due to a fellow competitor’s absence but remained genuinely pleased.
“Ha!”
In a snowy, empty field, twenty sleds, each with a rider on a donkey or deer, lined up. At Han Cheng’s signal, riders cracked whips, urged their animals, and began racing—primitive sled racing without wheels.
Han Cheng smiled at the spectacle. Such competitions were essential, preparing the tribe for winter warfare, the optimal time for military operations.
Sled racing drew more attention than running, thrilling both participants and spectators.
As the sun dimmed, the Green Sparrow Tribe’s first sports festival concluded.
Award ceremonies and citizenship promotions were postponed to the next day due to time constraints. Outstanding slaves would be freed, second-level citizens could advance, and first-level citizenship would be granted.
That night, many lay awake on warm earthen platforms, discussing the day’s events, recalling memorable moments, and resolving to practice and improve.
Da Jiao, too, was too excited to sleep, eagerly anticipating his official citizenship the following day.
At dawn, many arose to prepare for the awards ceremony and citizenship conferrals.
Sunlight pierced the clouds, forming beams that illuminated the Green Sparrow flag and the elevated platform where Han Cheng, Wu, and the senior brother leaders sat. The scene appeared magical.
The gathered crowd stared in awe, while the Wind Tribe and neighboring Wind Tribe members gaped.
Wu trembled, overcome with excitement, pointing at Han Cheng, only able to cry out, “Divine Child! Divine Child!”
The other tribes followed, shouting with reverence and devotion.
Such a miraculous sight could only be due to the Divine Child!
Han Cheng, noticing their awestruck stares, twitched at the coincidence. This was an improbable alignment, yet it occurred publicly before so many eyes.
Could this be the protagonist aura?
.
!
Chapter 815: Racing in the Primitive Era
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