Chapter 239: Voodoo Tribe
The main tribe of the Voodoo Tribe had moved to a location not far from the mountains, erected totems, and set up a dense array of tents, with countless lizardmen bustling about.
The busiest here were not the warriors constantly preparing for battle, nor the solemn priests, but the weary hunters.
Lizardmen did not farm, the swamps and forests yielded little, and they raised few livestock, not even enough to feed the raptors. Their primary food source relied on hunting and gathering.
This method could only meet the needs of small tribes and was insufficient for large-scale warfare.
Thousands of lizardmen warriors consumed a mountain of meat daily, capable of devouring all animals within a radius of dozens of miles in a single day, not to mention the raptors used as mounts, which also had hearty appetites.
Therefore, to sustain the ongoing war, tens of thousands of lizardmen hunters continuously transported captured prey here. To prevent spoilage, the hunters had to capture prey alive as much as possible, further increasing the difficulty of hunting. This consumed a vast amount of the Voodoo Tribe’s manpower and resources, causing significant internal strain.
Their lack of farming meant a lack of food reserves. To sustain the war, the Voodoo Tribe’s various tribes had conscripted numerous lizardmen hunters, leading to a significant decrease in the amount of prey these tribes could obtain. Hunger inevitably arrived, claiming the old and weak of the tribe and plunging them into weakness.
More fatally, as the war continued, this situation would worsen, and the tribe’s population would experience a precipitous decline.
War had always tested more than just combat power. Population, reserves, and production were all crucial factors determining victory or defeat. Clearly, the lizardmen lacked a mature war mechanism.
Fortunately, the lizardmen were all alike, constantly engaging in self-destruction. This was also the reason why the lizardmen had existed on this continent for so many years without ever encountering a population explosion crisis.
“Not enough, still not enough! The Voodoo King needs more sacrifices!” The high priest of the Voodoo Tribe was an old lizardman who had lived for an unknown number of years. His teeth had long fallen out, leaving him able to only consume thin broth. His back was hunched, forcing him to look up at others. Even the taut skin typical of cold-blooded creatures had become loose and wrinkled. However, his spirit remained strong, his eyes sharp. Even the Voodoo Tribe’s chieftain, a two-meter-tall monster as strong as a dinosaur, felt immense pressure from the priest’s gaze and often had to compromise.
“The tribe has dispatched enough warriors and suffered heavy losses. Several tribes have had to merge with others after losing all their adult warriors and hunters. The tribe is weakening.” The Voodoo Tribe’s chieftain was deeply dissatisfied with the priest’s constant demands. To satisfy the priest’s need for sacrifices, the tribe had already lost over a thousand adult lizardmen hunters and even more warriors. This meant many tribes had vanished entirely.
“That is your problem. The Voodoo King has defeated the Mountain Mother Tribe’s god. As long as we use blood sacrifices to restore him first, the Voodoo Tribe can completely annihilate the Mountain Mother Tribe, seize their territory, enslave their population, and grow even stronger from their corpses!” The high priest fixed the chieftain with an icy stare.
“Give me the voodoo zombies, or the tribe’s warriors will have to use their lives to break through the Mountain Mother Tribe’s defenses. They have no retreat and will fight to the death. I will not allow my warriors to die in vain!” The chieftain laid out his final bottom line, and this was also his goal. He knew he could not stop the sacrifices offered to the Voodoo King.
“The voodoo zombies are still being refined. I can only give you a batch of defective ones.” The high priest did not care about these defective products and waved a hand, instructing his subordinate priests to awaken them and have them bring more fresh sacrifices for the Voodoo King.
Beneath the enormous totem pole in the camp were two large pools. The Voodoo King’s priests were busy pouring the prepared voodoo broth into the pools, accelerating the growth of the voodoo zombies soaking within.
However, some zombies could not withstand the increasing concentration of voodoo. Before being completely dissolved, these unqualified zombies would be fished out by the Voodoo King’s priests and placed into the second pool. These were the so-called defective products.
The defective products were zombies that could no longer withstand the voodoo transformation. To avoid waste, the Voodoo King’s priests injected more plague into the second pool, turning these zombies into sources of plague contamination, the swollen plague zombies.
Logically, plague zombies were the most terrifying weapon of mass destruction. The problem was that lizardmen were cold-blooded creatures and not easily infected by plagues. Unless it was a specially enhanced voodoo plague, ordinary plagues were only equivalent to a bad cold for most lizardmen. While weakness was unavoidable, except for a few old, weak, sick, or disabled individuals, most would not die from it. If there was divine magic to dispel the plague, they would recover even faster.
However, the high priest did not expect to achieve final victory through these plague zombies but rather to use them to test the Mountain Mother Tribe’s god.
If the Mountain Mother Tribe was unable to dispel the plague, it would prove their god was severely injured.
Then, the high priest would conduct a grand blood sacrifice, awaken the Voodoo King in advance, and thoroughly secure victory in this long war. For this, the high priest would spare no expense, including eliminating the Voodoo Tribe chieftain who always raised questions, just like his predecessors.
Neither the tribe nor its members were as important as the Voodoo King. As long as the Voodoo King devoured the Mountain Mother Tribe’s god, he, as the greatest contributor, would receive the Voodoo King’s reward and become an immortal god!
Leaving aside whether the Voodoo King could win, just the idea of him being generous enough to bestow divinity upon a mortal was unbelievable.
Unfortunately, the extremely aged high priest had only this so-called hope in his eyes, abandoning everything else, including the Voodoo Tribe.
Owen did not know what was happening within the Voodoo Tribe, as the place was filled with voodoo and curses, and even the ratmen dared not approach it easily. However, he had a good grasp of the situation within the Mountain Mother Tribe.
Compared to the Voodoo Tribe, which despite suffering losses continued their fierce assault, the cornered Mountain Mother Tribe, though resisting desperately, had lost faith. Their god had not responded for a long time, even though the Mountain Mother Tribe had found time to hold multiple sacrifices amidst the intense fighting. This lack of response caused panic within the tribe. If not for having no way out, they would have likely scattered already.
But this was definitely good news for Owen, especially after learning about the Mountain Mother God, it made him see an opportunity.
