Chapter 41: Corpses.
"Neighhh~ Heghh! Fuck! Why are we carrying this useless corpse back to the settlement again?"
Gre Ka So complained as he carried the corpse of their Magnari companion across his back while making his way through the forest. Behind him walked two other Magnari, while beside him strode Gree Ma Go.
The latter merely gave a slow shrug.
"The First Tribal Chief’s order. We are to bring back the body of every companion who dies during our expansion. He didn’t tell me why we ought to... but we do what he asks us to do. It’s that simple, Gre Ka So."
"I figured it was Gre Ka Go."
Gre Ka So clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Because of his weird rules, I can’t even hook up with the strong women of our tribe anymore. And now this? Why does he even want a corpse? It can’t hunt. It can’t fight. It can’t reproduce. It’s useless."
He continued grumbling as he adjusted the corpse slipping from his shoulder, wrapping his tail around it before resuming his steady stride.
Gree Ma Go let out a weary sigh before shooting him a sharp glare.
"No one gets to speak like that about our Tribal Chief. You’d better watch your tongue next time, Gre Ka So. Besides, he’s the one in charge. We follow his orders. No questions asked."
"Ah, fuck... I forgot you’re his biggest defender." Gre Ka So snorted. "You’ve always been like that ever since you were a kid."
He shifted the corpse once more before continuing.
"Then again... he also taught us to respect our elders. By that logic, I’m your older brother, so you should..."
Before he could finish, Gree Ma Go interrupted him without the slightest hesitation.
"Respect is earned, not begged. He taught us that too, didn’t he? And your deeds aren’t exactly worthy of respect, dear big brother."
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"And unless you’ve forgotten, I’m also the leader of this expedition. That puts me above you grunts."
"Tch..."
The brothers continued bickering as they walked through the forest, their voices occasionally startling small creatures hiding among the undergrowth. The other two Magnari exchanged helpless glances but chose not to interfere. They had long since grown accustomed to watching the pair argue over practically everything.
Strangely enough, despite carrying the corpse of one of their own companions, not a single one of them appeared particularly sorrowful.
The Magnari possessed unusually long lifespans, often living between one hundred and twenty to well over two hundred years. A single successful breeding season could welcome six or even seven newborns into a family, granting the race extraordinary fertility. Yet despite such a blessing, their population had remained surprisingly modest throughout countless generations.
The reason was simple.
Death had always walked beside them.
Predators claimed the weak long before they reached maturity. Every hunt inevitably ended with casualties born from poor coordination, reckless courage, and the complete absence of tactics. Warriors charged together without any real plan—the fastest reached the prey first while the slower ones struggled to catch up. No one guarded the flanks, no one watched their backs, and no one knew when to retreat. Many hunts ended with unnecessary injuries, while others were ruined entirely after another predator emerged from the surrounding forest and attacked them from behind.
Reaching a hundred years of age had once been considered fortunate, even for those who exercised the greatest caution.
That reality, however, had gradually begun changing beneath Gre Ka Go’s leadership.
Battle formations.
Primitive weapons.
Clearly defined responsibilities.
Hunting squads.
One change after another quietly transformed the tribe.
Instead of treating every hunter as an individual, Gre Ka Go reorganized them into permanent squads that trained and fought together. Every member understood his own responsibility long before a battle even began.
The strongest warriors formed the Vanguard, confronting dangerous beasts head-on while drawing away their attention.
The swiftest Magnari became the Left and Right Flanks, circling around prey to prevent escape or striking distracted enemies from unexpected angles.
Those carrying throwing spears remained behind the front line as the Rear Guard, weakening dangerous predators before the main engagement and reinforcing whichever side required support.
Even the younger Magnari, who lacked experience, were no longer forced into direct combat. They became scouts, messengers, or supply carriers, learning the ways of war without throwing their lives away.
Every squad answered to its own leader.
Every leader answered to Gre Ka Go.
At first, many believed the system to be troublesome.
The Magnari had always relied upon instinct. Being told where to stand, when to attack, and when to retreat felt unnatural.
Yet after only a handful of successful hunts...
The complaints gradually disappeared.
Deaths that had once been accepted as inevitable became increasingly rare.
Large predators that previously demanded dozens of reckless warriors could now be brought down through patience, coordination, and discipline.
Victories became cleaner,Safer and more consistent.
For the first time, the Magnari realized that discipline itself could become a weapon every bit as deadly as claws or spears.
As the years passed, that same organization spread far beyond hunting.
Scouts advanced ahead of every expedition.
The Vanguard cleared dangerous beasts while the flanks secured both sides.
The Rear Guard ensured no one was left behind.
Expansion itself had become organized.
Gree Ma Go’s squad was one of those assigned to secure the western frontier.
While clearing that region of dangerous predators...One of their own had fallen.
It was the first combat casualty the tribe had suffered in years.
"Fuck! You could at least help me carry this corpse, Gree Ma Go!" Gre Ka So shouted in frustration as he continued dragging his unfortunate companion across his shoulders.
"I don’t think that’s necessary."
Gree Ma Go smirked before quickening his pace.
"We’re practically back already."
The other two Magnari immediately followed behind him, unwilling to risk becoming Gre Ka So’s replacement.
"Hey! That’s definitely not fair!"
Gre Ka So’s voice echoed throughout the forest as he begrudgingly continued forward, muttering curses beneath his breath while adjusting the corpse for what felt like the hundredth time.
Several minutes later, the familiar wooden palisades of the settlement finally emerged between the trees.
A relieved grin had only just begun forming on Gre Ka So’s face when his footsteps suddenly came to a halt.
"...Huh?"
The corpse shifted on his shoulder once again, but this time it wasn’t because of its weight.
His eyes had become completely fixed on the scene before him.
The laughter faded from his face while the endless complaints died inside his throat.
Even the forest itself seemed strangely silent as though every sound had quietly withdrawn from the world.
Across the vast clearing before the settlement...a large number of bodies were lying on the ground.
Every Magnari who had fallen during the recent expansion had been brought back exactly as ordered. They had been laid side by side in long orderly rows, their crude spears, stone axes and hunting tools resting beside them as though each warrior had simply returned from a long hunt and chosen to sleep beneath the open sky.
The sight alone was enough to make Gre Ka So’s heartbeat unconsciously slow.
"They brought everyone back?.."
His mutter barely escaped his lips.
The other Magnari standing before him had already fallen silent. None of them had expected this. Until this very moment, each squad had believed they were merely following another one of their Tribal Chief’s strange commands.
Only now did they realize every expedition had received the same order.
Slowly...
Almost instinctively...
Their gazes drifted toward the lone figure standing before the fallen warriors.
Gre Ka Go.
His broad back faced the gathering Magnari, unmoving beneath the evening sky. The breeze gently stirred the fur along his shoulders, yet he himself remained perfectly still, his eyes quietly lingering upon every face lying before him.
No commands left his mouth.No speeches were given as he always had.
He simply stood there and watched.
One squad after another gradually returned from the surrounding forests, each carrying another fallen companion across their shoulders. Yet the moment they stepped into the clearing and witnessed what awaited them, every conversation ceased on its own. Without anyone instructing them, they silently walked forward and carefully placed their dead beside the others before stepping back into the growing crowd.
Nobody laughed nor argued.
Even Gre Ka So, who had spent the entire journey complaining about carrying a corpse, quietly lowered his companion onto the ground with surprising care before retreating a few steps without saying another word.
It wasn’t because they suddenly understood Gre Ka Go’s intentions.
It was because...
Something about the atmosphere surrounding him made speaking feel almost inappropriate.
For the first time since any of them could remember...Their First Tribal Chief looked different.
There was no fierce determination burning within his eyes.
No confidence.Neither any excitement for tomorrow’s hunt.
Only a quiet, almost unbearable sorrow lingered upon his face as he looked at every warrior who would never again stand beside their tribe.
And for reasons none of the Magnari could explain...
Seeing that expression on the face of the one they believed could overcome anything felt far heavier than witnessing the deaths itself.