Early the next morning, Ethan Drake was still cocooned in thick animal skin, nearly wrapped like a spring roll, when two system tips jolted him awake:
**System Tip:** *Congratulations to the player "Ethan Drake" for earning 100 civilization points (from Mirror Lake).*
**System Tip:** *Congratulations to the player "Ethan Drake" for earning six civilization points (from the 'Mirror' tribe).*
"Huh?" Still groggy from exhaustion, Ethan barely registered the notifications. His brain was a foggy mess, his eyes refusing to open. Mumbling something incoherent, he tugged the animal skin tighter around himself and drifted back into sleep.
Ten or twenty minutes later, he bolted upright, the cold air biting at his face. He glanced around the simple tent, shivering as the icy wind slipped through the seams. Smacking his cheeks to snap himself out of it, realization hit him.
"It wasn't a dream after all," he muttered, ruffling his hair.
After a moment to collect his thoughts, Ethan's lips curled into a frown. "Mirror Lake gives me 100 fixed civilization points daily—that's great—but only six points from the tribe? Is it because the population is too small or the development's too primitive?"
The temptation to crawl back under the animal skin was strong, but Ethan steeled his will, throwing it off as he stepped into the biting cold outside. Waking up in winter was a battle of discipline no matter the world.
"The patriarch is up! The patriarch is up!" The excited cries of children echoed the moment Ethan emerged.
All eyes turned to him, and Ethan could feel the weight of their stares. His face flushed. Judging by their expressions, he was the last to rise, and the tribe had clearly been waiting for him to give orders.
He cleared his throat. "Right, uh... Mr. Fire—prepare breakfast."
The tribe members exchanged puzzled looks. In this world of scarcity, breakfast wasn't a concept. Finally, an elderly man stepped forward and spoke. "Patriarch, all the food was eaten last night. If we don't hunt today, we'll go hungry."
Ethan was ready for this. "The boar bones from yesterday are still there, aren't they? Use them to cook bone soup."
The plan was simple: boil the leftover bones for a nourishing broth. It wouldn't be glamorous, but it would stave off hunger and provide enough energy to work. At his command, the tribe members sprang into action, loyalty and trust in Ethan's leadership evident.
The women gathered tree vines to craft fishing nets, the children dug for bait, and the men moved to Mirror Lake to drill fishing holes. Today's goal was clear—establishing a fishery. With the lake's **20% fishery bonus**, there was no excuse to waste such a valuable resource.
Yesterday's single squid catch had been a late-afternoon effort. Today, starting early and deploying more nets would surely yield better results. Ethan knew the high nutritional value of fish soup would bolster the tribe's strength, even if their stomachs weren't entirely full.
As bone soup boiled in the cooking pits, the tribe eagerly awaited their meal, hunger making them restless but motivated. Ethan, meanwhile, inspected the boar bones. They were plentiful, and a single pot of soup wouldn't be enough.
"Cook several pots," Ethan instructed. "Everyone should have a bowl of hot soup to drink."
When the first pot of bone soup was ready, it was rationed out. Ethan took his own portion, then gathered the warriors and a few other able-bodied men for a meeting.
"Brothers!" Ethan began, his voice carrying authority and excitement. "Today, we're going to make a big move!"
He pulled James Drake closer, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Yesterday, James scouted the enemy's stronghold. Now's the time to strike! Our tribe is small, and manpower is stretched thin. That's not sustainable. So today, we're taking the fight to them. We'll crush the enemy and bring their people into our fold!"
A chorus of cheers erupted. The warriors, fueled by Ethan's words, raised their stone spears and axes high, roaring their approval.
Ethan grinned. These weren't just fighters; they were men ready to lay down their lives for the tribe. He understood the stakes. "Either you farm, or you fight like wolves," he thought.
While his nature leaned toward peaceful development, the situation demanded aggression. Yesterday's encounter with the barbarians had made one thing clear—if left unchecked, they'd return, hungrier and bolder. Ethan wouldn't let that happen.
"Strike first," he muttered under his breath, gripping a stone spear. "Take what's theirs before they come back stronger."
The morning's bone soup fortified the tribe, and Ethan wasted no time. Grabbing a spear, he led ten handpicked warriors on the march toward the enemy's stronghold.