Su Ming walked quietly within the walls of the mudstone city belonging to Wind Stream Tribe. In front of him, the tribe member who was serving as his guide walked with an arrogant air that Su Ming could clearly see.
‘He does indeed have the right to be arrogant…’
Su Ming looked at the city before him and at the mudstone houses. In his mind, he remembered the houses made of wood and hides in his tribe. Compared to them… no, there was in fact no room for comparison.
During the journey, Su Ming saw far too many members of Wind Stream Tribe. In fact, he had never even seen so many Berserkers in all the 16 years of his life. The city was bustling with activity. Even the beast skins the men and women wore were of much better quality than Su Ming’s.
There were even a number of them who wore sackcloth that only the elder could wear in their tribe. These people were all Berserkers with exceptionally strong presence of Qi.
‘A middle sized tribe…’
