"What do we do now? The Clan Leader has been asleep for a day, and the intertribal contest is to be held tomorrow. What are we going to do?" While other tribes indulged in feasting, the Gru Tribe was enveloped in a cloud of low spirits, their faces etched with worry.
"Should we go to the Shaman for an antidote?" a member of the Orc suggested.
The Orcs exchanged glances. They had stripped their Clan Leader bare and buried him in the snow. Had they not heard rumors and rushed over, the figure lying on the Beast Skin cushion now would be a cold corpse, wouldn't it?
They all quietly shook their heads, determined not to go. After all, if the Shaman could knock out the Clan Leader who had consumed two Beast God Fruits, murdering them would be as easy as snapping fingers.
Have Shamans now grown this savage?
