Becoming a Leader in a Primitive Otherworld - Chapter 1

Hiss, hiss, hiss—

A blast of icy wind surged into the cave, swirling snowflakes that lashed against the figure on the stone bed.

“Achoo!” The half-asleep woman sneezed, shivering from the cold. Instinctively, she tugged the short grass pelt covering her, trying to shield the exposed areas from the biting wind.

The pelt was too short; the moment she pulled it up, her bare feet peeked out, revealing wheat-toned skin.

The cold was relentless, so intense it made her tremble uncontrollably.

The recent snowfall had gradually intensified, blanketing the land in a continuous white expanse for over ten days. Outside the cave, only a pristine, snow-covered landscape remained.

Suddenly, several bronze-skinned figures emerged from a narrow path, their footprints sinking deep into the snow.

They hurried to the cave entrance, their urgency growing as they saw the faint firelight flickering inside.

The lead woman waved her hand, hesitated briefly, then charged in, shouting, “Chief! Chief!”

Her cry was echoed by the others: “Chief! Chief!”

Xie Yu, still shivering from the wind and caught between sleep and wakefulness, heard the commotion but couldn’t make out what they were shouting about.

Even sleep offered no respite.

“Chief! Wake up! The High Priest is looking for you!” The woman didn’t dare shake Xie Yu awake, so she raised her voice even louder.

“Who?” Xie Yu snapped, unable to bear it any longer. She pushed herself up from the stone bed, barely suppressing the fury burning in her throat.

Xie Yu was not a morning person.

As she opened her eyes, she suddenly realized the entire scene before her had changed.

The soft, plush bed had become a cold, hard stone slab; the thick quilt had been replaced by rough animal furs; the white walls had transformed into the chilly, damp walls of a mountain cave; and the ceiling lamp had become a crackling bonfire.

Several people, dressed as primitive tribesmen, stood around her—men and women. The leader, tall and muscular with long limbs, looked like a seasoned athlete.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was the snow.

Didn’t I just drink too much and pass out? How did I end up here?

“Chief, you’re awake,” the woman leader said, noticing the scabbed wound on Xie Yu’s arm. Her heart ached for her chief’s suffering.

Their food supplies had run out, and hunting was difficult in the harsh winter. Several warriors had already gone to Apamna, making it hard to gather a hunting party. That’s why the Chief had been so severely injured.

Fortunately, the Cloud Priest had applied medicinal herbs to the Chief’s wound, allowing it to heal so quickly.

“Chief, does your wound still hurt?” she asked, her eyes shining with concern as she gazed at the scar, where new flesh was already visible.

Xie Yu only then noticed the scar on her arm, startling her. She had never been injured before.

The woman suddenly remembered her purpose. “Oh, right! The High Priest wants to see you, Chief. He says it’s urgent!”

Her speech was mumbled, thick with a strange accent and peculiar intonation. Xie Yu struggled to understand her at first.

Chief? Priest? Cave? Cavemen?

Another flurry of snowflakes burst into the cave, this time striking her face directly. The icy touch jolted her awake. Was she filming a movie, or had she traveled through time?

And somehow become the chief of a tribe?

Seeing the others’ frantic urgency, Xie Yu murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll go now.”

Despite her calm demeanor, Xie Yu was inwardly panicked. Who knew what awaited her outside? What kind of scene would she find herself in?

Yet she couldn’t refuse. Alone, she stood no chance against these people if she tried to escape.

Better to go first and adapt as needed, she thought.

Xie Yu followed the group to the cave entrance. One glance was enough to tell her this was no longer her original world.

As far as the eye could see, there were no skyscrapers. This was a landscape she had never seen, heard of, or visited before: rolling hills, vast grasslands, and dense forests.

The bone-chilling cold forced the group to huddle deeper into their fur cloaks. The woman at the front called out to Xie Yu, wondering why the Chief was hesitating.

Xie Yu gestured for them to lead the way.

Though slightly puzzled, the group didn’t question her. They hurried forward, guiding Xie Yu through the endless white expanse. Occasionally, snow swept down by the wind landed on their heads, sending shivers down their spines.

They took a less obstructed path upward, soon reaching another hidden cave entrance.

This cave was much smaller than the one Xie Yu had just been in, barely wide enough for two people to pass through. A pile of snow-covered branches lay nearby.

A faint glow of firelight emanated from within.

Ancient and mysterious, the cave stirred a primal urge to explore its depths, radiating a wild, untamed beauty.

Xie Yu followed the others inside, discovering that the interior was far larger than the entrance suggested. As she ventured deeper, she saw the cave was filled with people huddled together.

The group consisted of men, women, and children, but most were injured, their wounds bandaged with crushed, grayish-green medicinal herbs.

A crackling fire burned in the center, its flickering light dancing across their faces. The stronger members wore bark clothing, while the weaker ones were clad in animal hides, huddling together for warmth.

Xie Yu silently counted them, realizing there were only about thirty people, with the elderly, infirm, and wounded making up roughly a third of the group.

When they saw her, most faces lit up with reverence, their gazes fixed on her as if she were a savior.

Uncomfortable with such adulation, Xie Yu avoided their eyes and focused on two standing women: an elderly woman and a younger one.

The elderly man must be the Old Priest.

Leaning on a wooden staff, likely used as a walking stick, he gazed at her with gentle affection.

The young woman also looked at her, but Xie Yu noticed her gaze was different from the others. It lacked reverence, fear, or tenderness; she simply regarded Xie Yu with a detached, neutral expression.

Xie Yu’s breath caught in her throat. She had to admit the woman was strikingly beautiful, with skin as pale as snow.

Xie Yu and most of the others here had complexions ranging from wheat-toned to bronze, with some even darker, clearly tanned from gathering and hunting outdoors.

“Chief, come over here,” the Old Priest said, tapping his staff against the stone ground with a crisp, resonant sound.

As soon as these words were spoken, Xie Yu’s mind seemed to be struck by a flash of insight. A series of memories, not her own, flooded her consciousness.

She walked toward them step by step, trying to process the sudden influx of memories.

This was a primitive era, one that had never existed in any book Xie Yu had ever read or studied.

The continent they inhabited was universally known as “Azure Feather.” With their current capabilities, they only knew that the eastern and northern edges of Azure Feather were bounded by the sea. As for the western and southern regions, no one had yet ventured deep enough to explore them, leaving them shrouded in mystery.

The tribe Xie Yu found herself in was called the Shadow Tribe, seemingly located in the central-southern part of the continent, a region encompassing valleys, hills, and plains.

The tribe had settled on a mountain, relying on hunting for sustenance and living in relative poverty.

This year’s winter arrived unusually early, five fu ahead of schedule (a fu being ten days, meaning fifty days earlier than usual). The tribe had secured enough food for the winter, but some warriors, already weakened or injured, had gone to Apam—a euphemism for death.

The leading woman from earlier, named Ke, was one of the tribe’s foremost warriors, respecting only the Chief and the Priest.

The elderly priest opposite her was named Luo. The young woman beside him, unlike others with single-character names, had a two-character name: Yun Nai.

Yun Nai was a mystery. No one knew her origins, and she had never revealed them.

Six months ago, on an ordinary night, she had entered the Shadow Tribe’s territory and been taken as a disciple by Elder Priestess Luo, making her the next High Priest.

The original owner of this body had only one name: Yu.

She had apparently died in her sleep a few days earlier, succumbing to a combination of a wolf claw wound on her arm, starvation, and bone-chilling cold.

Killed by a wolf, starved to death, frozen to death.

Xie Yu sighed inwardly. Though she had often fantasized about being transported to a primitive era, she now realized she had only enjoyed the fantasy.

This was a mess, and Xie Yu was the one tasked with cleaning it up.

She approached the Old Priest step by step, her thoughts growing clearer with each stride. Finally, she stopped before him, lowering her gaze to meet his clouded eyes.

“You have come to us, Chief,” the Old Priest repeated, his voice trembling with emotion. “You acknowledge us!”

The crowd, who had been watching intently, erupted in excitement at these words. Several even began performing an unfamiliar dance, swaying their bodies in simple yet genuine expressions of emotion.

“Silence,” Xie Yu said, her heart sinking. She waved her hand to quiet them. This Old Priest seemed to know something. She looked at him and asked, “When did I ever deny you?”

“You’ve returned, our Chief! Your heart acknowledges us!” Tears welled in the Old Priest’s eyes. Their tribe was saved; no longer would so many be taken to Apam’s side at once.

“Stop,” Xie Yu said, deciding to postpone this discussion. Lowering her voice and adopting the original owner’s tone, she asked, “Elder Priestess Luo, Ke said you have urgent matters to discuss with me.”

The Elder Priestess’s expression turned grave, and the surrounding crowd’s mood gradually darkened. Luo said, “This concerns the very survival of our tribe and is directly related to the Chief.”

Luo carefully lifted a flat animal bone from the ground, its surface covered with a thin layer of ash. She gently handed it to Xie Yu. “This is the omen Apam revealed to me.”

A series of incomprehensible symbols.

Xie Yu didn’t understand. The others stood silently, too afraid to speak, though their curiosity burned within.

Elder Priestess Luo had repeatedly claimed that Apam had given instructions that would ensure the tribe never went hungry again.

“What does this mean?” Xie Yu asked.

“A divine omen! Apam’s eternal protection over the Shadow Tribe!” The Old Priest’s eyes gleamed with fervor. “Once the Chief and the next High Priestess forge a bond, the Shadow Tribe will ascend into the light!”