062 The Demon King Descends!

Southern Northon Plains
Territory of the Grassland Lizardfolk

It had been over half a year since Xiarong’s tribe settled in the Northon Plains. After returning from the High Court with a group of young lizardfolk, Xiarong had modeled the tribe’s defenses after the methods used by the ratfolk. First, a two-meter-deep moat was dug around the perimeter. Inside the moat, damp earth was piled along the edge, forming the simplest defensive structure. The rampart was studded with spikes; every fifty meters, an arrow tower was erected. Additionally, a wooden fence was built inside the rampart, combining the plains’ realities with the ratfolk’s defensive measures.

Within these layers of fortifications, wooden houses stood in neat rows, forming a square area. From above, one would see a tidy arrangement, reminiscent of a minimalist version of a modern rural villa community.

Over these months, Xiarong had not only led the tribe in establishing basic infrastructure but also developed the lizardfolk’s animal husbandry into a structured industry. At the very center of the settlement, Xiarong and his industrious kin dug a five-hundred-square-meter fish pond for breeding fish. Goats, wild boars, pheasants, and even wild cattle all fell within the scope of their livestock. More than half the lizardfolk in the tribe had mastered at least one method of raising animals or poultry.

As the tribe prospered, its population was about to surpass ten thousand.

Inside a house built from simple wooden planks, Xiarong was gathered with a group of female lizardfolk, beads of sweat glistening on their brows from their exertions.

“Come on, Kaliz!”
“A little more effort!”
“Deep breaths, relax!”
“Be strong, Kaliz. You can do it!”

Flat on her back atop a mattress of leaves, the female lizardfolk called Kaliz was drenched in sweat, groaning in agony.

“He’s almost out! One last push!”
Xiarong encouraged Kaliz tirelessly, his hands working with careful strength.

With her final effort, Kaliz’s legs convulsed in exhaustion, her energy spent.

A chorus of infantile cries suddenly filled the air…

“It’s a boy! Congratulations, Kaliz!”
Xiarong exclaimed excitedly, holding a newborn lizardfolk in his hands.

The little one was covered in blood, his mouth opening and closing in tentative murmurs.

“He looks healthy. He’ll be a strong warrior one day!”
The midwives gazed at the child in Xiarong’s hands with joy, as if it were their own.

“Chieftain, give him a name!”

“Quick, chieftain, name him!”
It was common for Xiarong to assist in births, especially for widows like Kaliz, whose husband had died hunting. The women’s mutual aid group organized by Xiarong took care of her daily needs.

“Let’s call him Kalandi!”
“And now, our tribe has another warrior!”

As the tribe celebrated Kalandi’s birth, the exhausted Kaliz suddenly raised a hand to her belly.

“Kaliz, your duty is done. We’ll care for Kalandi while you rest for a few days.”

“No!”
Xiarong suddenly cried out, as if struck by realization. He quickly handed Kalandi to a nearby midwife and reached into Kaliz’s pelvis…

Just as he suspected, another hatchling remained in Kaliz’s womb.

“Quick, do something! The baby’s sideways, he’s stuck!”

Panic seized Xiarong as Kaliz began to hemorrhage, blood flowing in a crimson stream. His right hand, deep inside, was soaked, struggling to grip the hatchling.

With the primitive technology of this dark civilization, there was no way to handle severe bleeding during childbirth. Only two paths remained: save the baby, or save the mother.

“Kaliz…”
He whispered gently in her ear.

Kaliz, barely conscious, suddenly grasped Xiarong’s shoulder with bloodied hands.

“My child… please… save… my… child!”

“Someone, cut the opening!”

Without hesitation, Xiarong carried out Kaliz’s wish. He took the sharpened stone blade handed to him, clenched his eyes shut, and cut a wound nearly twenty centimeters long.

In this era devoid of medical knowledge, a caesarean section was tantamount to a death sentence for the mother.

“Congratulations, Kaliz! Another boy!”
Xiarong spoke with a trembling voice, his throat tight.

Kaliz, barely clinging to life, forced herself to look once at the blood-soaked child. A faint smile lingered as she quietly passed away, her grip on Xiarong’s arm slackening and falling to the ground.

There was no time for joy; the tribe held a moment of silent mourning for Kaliz.

Much later…

“Chieftain! Name him!”

Cradling the blood-covered hatchling, Xiarong noticed he was much lighter than his brother Kalandi. What surprised him was that this newborn kept struggling and howling, even trying to stretch his neck to bite Xiarong’s finger…

“This little one is quite mischievous!”

Covered in his mother’s blood, he looked almost frightening, as if enduring endless pain…

“Let’s call him Karlos.”

Xiarong’s face betrayed a deep sadness.

“Chieftain? Is it…?”

The midwives seemed to notice something.

“This child is, sadly, a dwarf…”

“Alas, what a pity. Let’s hope he grows up safely.”

Among the lizardfolk, dwarfs were not merely those with stunted stature. Unlike humans, a lizardfolk dwarf was one born unable to straighten his back. Most were caused by birth trauma, as lizardfolk infants had extremely soft bones—prolonged pressure during delivery could create these dwarfed lizardfolk, who could walk upright but only bent nearly ninety degrees, like the elderly.

Such lizardfolk were rare; hatchlings were fragile, and difficult births usually meant certain death.

That Karlos survived the crushing pressure in his mother’s pelvis was a miracle.

Sadly, both he and his brother Kalandi were orphaned from the moment they drew breath, never glimpsing their parents, not even once.

Just then, a sturdy lizardfolk pushed open the door.

“Chieftain, Elder Ross found this in the northern part of the settlement. He thought it was special and sent me to bring it to you for appraisal.”

With that, the lizardfolk handed Xiarong a stone with a dull metallic sheen.

The metal lump, about the size of a ping pong ball, gleamed with a dark yellow hue. The unique metallic feel made Xiarong’s jaw drop.

“This is—metallic copper!”