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The entire Shandia tribe had gathered to discuss the situation. Voices rose with differing opinions, yet most expressed the same hope: to finally live in a better environment, free from endless struggle.
"At least we wouldn't have to stay here any longer, enduring hunger and hardship," someone murmured.
"Wiper! What do you think you're doing?!"
The old chief's voice boomed with anger, silencing the gathering. Standing before him, Wiper appeared uneasy.
His words moments earlier had stirred dissatisfaction among the Shandians, but for the old chief, they were utterly infuriating.
The chief could scarcely believe it how could the one he had groomed to be his successor entertain such thoughts? What had changed his heart so drastically?
For centuries, the Shandians had fought relentlessly to reclaim their homeland on Upper Yard, the land stolen from them by the Skypieans. No ruler, no force, could extinguish their determination!
"Grandpa Chief, may we speak privately?"
Wiper, struggling to maintain his composure, gestured toward the chief's hut. His priority was to explain the reality of their dire situation without the prying eyes of others.
"Very well," the old chief said after a pause, his voice still sharp. "But if you don't provide a satisfactory answer, Wiper, this matter won't end here!"
Casting a glance toward Enel's priests, who stood observing silently, the chief turned and entered the hut. His frustration was palpable.
Wiper followed close behind, while the others remained outside, tense and watchful.
The priests showed no sign of concern, standing calmly with an air of indifference.
Meanwhile, the Shandians outside exchanged uneasy glances. None of them wished to provoke trouble, but if forced, they were prepared to defend their tribe at any cost.
Inside the hut, the air was thick with tension.
"Wiper, explain yourself! Why would you say such things?" the old chief demanded, his voice trembling with anger.
"Grandpa Chief, have you considered their power? I've seen it with my own eyes they could wipe out our entire tribe without effort. What do we have to stand against them? Anos and his men made their intentions clear: they were willing to negotiate. This could be our chance to finally secure a future for our people."
"Look at our tribe. How many still truly wish to live in constant warfare? For 400 years, our numbers have dwindled. "
"If we don't let go of this hatred now, we may not even survive to see the next generation!"
"Before arriving here, Anos's people warned us if we refused to negotiate, they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate us. Even the Skypieans have surrendered Upper Yard to him. Do you think we stand a chance where they couldn't?"
Wiper spoke with respect but didn't hold back his conviction.
His words struck a nerve. Though the Shandians had dedicated centuries to reclaiming their sacred land, their dwindling numbers couldn't be ignored.
If they continued down this path, extinction seemed inevitable.
The old chief's anger slowly gave way to resignation. He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight of years of failure and grief.
Finally, he sank into a chair, staring out the window with a sorrowful expression.
"You're right, Wiper," the chief said after a long silence. "You will be the new chief of the Shandians. I am too old now. Lead our people wisely and ensure they have a future."
"Grandpa Chief, I—"
"No more words. For centuries, we've fought the Skypieans for Upper Yard. Perhaps it's time to end this struggle."
The old chief's voice was heavy with emotion. Decades of fighting for their homeland had yielded little more than bloodshed.
Now, the Shandians faced the harsh reality of either making peace or disappearing entirely.
"Grandpa Chief, I swear to do everything I can for our tribe!"
Wiper bowed deeply, determination burning in his eyes. He wasn't one to back down easily, but the circumstances left no room for pride.
The fate of his people was now his burden to bear. Any misstep could bring about their destruction.
With his resolve set, Wiper exited the hut. The moment he stepped outside, every eye turned to him.
Wiper, bare-chested and covered in tribal markings, stood tall. Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice and declared, "From this day onward, I am the chief of the Shandians!"
The murmuring crowd fell silent, stunned. Though many were shocked, it wasn't entirely unexpected Wiper had long been the most likely successor to the old chief.
For the Shandians, this decision marked the beginning of a new era. Whether it led to salvation or further hardship, only time would tell.
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