Ethan Drake and his group returned with prey and building materials, greeted by the jubilant cheers of women and children in the tribe. The massive wild boar that Rio Drake unceremoniously dumped on the ground brought a collective sigh of relief—tonight, no one would go hungry.
Back at Mirror Lake, there was no time to rest. Tasks piled up like snowdrifts: investigating the frozen lake's conditions, ensuring the fishing nets were complete, checking if the children had dug enough bait. Weapons, too—stone spears and axes—needed crafting, enough to arm every warrior.
But most urgently, the wounded needed attention. The fierce skirmish had left every fighter with cuts, bruises, or worse. Infection and inflammation loomed like specters over the injured. In an era utterly devoid of medical advancements, Ethan's modern understanding was the tribe's only lifeline.
His chest tightened at the thought. Even a single death was a devastating blow—not just emotionally, but in terms of manpower. Every member of the tribe, whether warrior or worker, was a vital cog in their survival.
Spotting the injured soldiers, Ethan's stride quickened—until he froze. A barbarian elder was grinding chewed herbs into a paste with his teeth, about to smear the concoction onto an open wound.
"Stop! STOP!" Ethan shouted, his voice cutting through the bustle. He surged forward, his expression a mix of relief and frustration. At least they had *some* idea about wound treatment. Even if the chewed-herb method relied on questionable hygiene, saliva's antiseptic properties made it better than nothing. But they were missing a critical step.
"When did you clean the wound?" Ethan demanded, his tone sharp.
"Clean?" The elder and the injured warrior both blinked, confusion plain on their faces.
Ethan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Listen to me. Before treating any wound, it *must* be cleaned. Otherwise, infection will set in."
The elder tilted his head. "What do you mean by infection?"
Ethan straightened, his expression dark. "You'll understand soon enough." No use explaining bacteria to someone who lacked even the concept of the microscopic. He didn't have time for a biology lecture, anyway.
He barked an order for clean water from Mirror Lake. When it arrived, he personally scrubbed the wounds, meticulously washing away blood and dirt. Only then did he allow the elder to apply the herb paste. As the process ended, a familiar notification rang out:
*System Tip: Congratulations to the player 'Ethan Drake' for successfully promoting medical development. Earned: 100 Civilization Points and 10 Medical Points.*
Ethan barely registered the message. His mind buzzed with plans for improving the tribe's rudimentary practices. There was still so much to do.
He moved on to inspect the fishing net. Its wide gaps made it far from perfect, but it was serviceable enough to catch larger fish. A small smile tugged at his lips as another notification chimed:
*System Tip: Congratulations to the player 'Ethan Drake' for creating a 'simplified fishing net.' Earned: 30 Civilization Points and 3 Production Points.*
Ethan organized the bait the children had dug up, leading them to the ice hole in the lake. "Who here can sit still the longest without moving?" he asked.
After a brief silence, a middle-aged man raised his hand. "Chief, I can."
"Good. You'll try first." Ethan gestured for him to sit by the ice hole, explaining the technique of using the net with slow precision. "Patience is key. Don't move until you're certain the fish is inside the net."
Leaving a few others behind to keep the fisherman company—and to ensure safety—Ethan returned to the camp. The women had set up simple tents using branches and animal hides, a rudimentary but effective solution against the cold. As the last tent was completed, another notification popped up:
*System Tip: Congratulations to the player 'Ethan Drake' for successfully establishing the first tribal camp. Earned: 100 Civilization Points and 5 Industrial Points.*
*System Prompt: Would you like to name the newly established tribal camp?*
Ethan grimaced. Naming things was quickly becoming his least favorite task. But as he reviewed the camp's stats on his system panel, the decision crystallized:
**Name:** None
**Level:** Small Tribe
**Population:** 34 (Scarce)
**Habitability:** 1 (From Mirror Lake)
**Fortifications:** None
**Special Effects:**
- 20% Fishery Bonus (From Mirror Lake)
- 20% Civilization Development Speed (From Talent 'Ruler')
"Mirror," he decided, the name inspired by the lake that had already provided so much. "It's simple now, but when this becomes Mirror City one day? It'll sound just right."