The Plant Master Becomes A Mute Sub-Beast: Farming And Laying Eggs

The north wind howled through the leaves. It was currently about five days away from the second month of winter. Kaelen had successfully made a batch of sorghum molasses; now, his and Sane’s status in the tribe was on par with the elders.

Priest Nyx had left the political center, returning to be a leisurely healer. Elian and Cael were also sewing their wedding clothes, taking the opportunity to sew for Kaelen as well. The three of them had agreed to hold their mating ceremonies on the same day.

Kaelen’s morning sickness had eased considerably. He could now tolerate the smell of roasted meat, although he could still only eat a few bites. The agreed-upon three days had passed, but those four who made empty promises had vanished without a trace. Sane usually waited until Kaelen was fast asleep before returning, then the beastman left before Kaelen woke up, leaving Kaelen quite speechless. However, he was in no rush; he would give them a few more days. Once he made even more things, they would no longer be able to hide.

Today, he was teaching everyone how to weave bamboo items like baskets, back baskets, and flat winnowing baskets. The bamboo was chopped from the new valley and brought back to the tribe, then split into thin strips and shaved to reduce sharp edges before weaving. Even so, quite a few people got their hands scratched by the bamboo strips. However, Sub-Beasts were naturally fond of delicate handiwork. Looking at the finished products created by their own hands, everyone did not utter a single complaint. Kaelen also told them to wrap animal skins around their hands to prevent scratches, but the group complained that the skins were cumbersome and tossed them aside, refusing to use them.

A beastman from the brick-making team ran over from the other side, called Kaelen aside, and handed him a white lump.

"Kaelen, we were digging the soil when it changed color. You see, it turned white. Uncle Mossi told me to come ask you what to do."

Kaelen took the white lump from the beastman’s hand, observing it carefully, his eyes lighting up.

Kaolin, it was actually kaolin!

With quartz and kaolin, now he only needed to add feldspar to manufacture porcelain. Feldspar was not hard to find; in fact, the people of the tribe had picked up feldspar, mistaken it for quartz, and brought it back. Kaelen had already had people crush it into powder and pile it in a corner a long time ago.

He was even planning to try making a batch of pottery from quartz, feldspar, and yellow clay to see if porcelain could be fired. Unexpectedly, a pillow was offered just as he felt sleepy.

Kaelen hurriedly left the bamboo weaving work at the tribe and rushed to the pottery area to inspect the soil quality. This plot of land was slightly lower than other places, so the kaolin had absorbed a lot of water and was a bit mushy; there was no need to soak it in water to break it down anymore. He directly told everyone to dig it up and place it on wooden sieves to rub it, filtering out the dirt, rocks, and tree roots mixed inside.

After all the gravel and impurities were removed from the mushy kaolin clay, Kaelen immediately ordered people to carry over the previously finely pounded quartz and feldspar powder. The group of beastmen stared blankly, watching him carefully measure out each basket of stone powder and pour it into the pile of white clay.

Kaelen mixed them in a ratio: five parts kaolin, two and a half parts quartz powder, and two and a half parts feldspar powder. The water-logged kaolin clay was originally a bit mushy, but with the addition of the two types of dry stone powder, the excess moisture was perfectly absorbed, binding into a thick, solid mass.

The most strenuous step was only just beginning: kneading the clay. Unlike the highly sticky yellow clay, this porcelain clay mixture was quite crumbly and lacked plasticity; if not kneaded carefully, it would crack wide open. Kaelen rolled up his sleeves, personally demonstrating how to use the heels of his hands to continuously press and roll the clay block to expel all the air bubbles trapped inside. He was pregnant, so his physical stamina was naturally weaker than usual. After kneading for only a short while, his forehead was dotted with sweat, and his breathing became a bit hurried.

"Let me do it."

A familiar deep voice rang out from behind. Kaelen turned his head, discovering that Sane had been standing there for who knows how long. Having hidden away for the past few days, seeing his mate working so hard, this foolish snake finally couldn’t hold back and showed his face.

Sane stretched out his firm arms, using the powerful strength of a beastman warrior to easily knead the stubborn block of clay following the exact motions Kaelen had just demonstrated. Kaelen gave a cold harrumph, his small chin tilting up slightly. He did not stop Sane but merely stepped back to stand aside and supervise, occasionally reminding Sane to flip and knead this corner more, or smooth out that corner thoroughly.

Once the clay block was kneaded until it was smooth and pliable, it was taken to be shaped. Because porcelain clay didn’t have enough adhesion to be thrown on a potter’s wheel like pottery clay, Kaelen instructed everyone to hand-mold simple items first. He carefully rolled out strips of clay, coiled them up, and smoothed the surfaces to form small bowls, drinking cups, and a shallow plate. Once finished, he placed them in the shade to dry naturally, absolutely avoiding strong winds that would crack the unfired clay.

Leaving everyone to freely unleash their creativity, Kaelen sluggishly carried a basin full of mixed kaolin into the windbreak tent. Sane quickly took it to carry instead, but as soon as the beastman set the basin down, Kaelen kicked him out. He busied himself alone inside the tent, only poking his head out by late afternoon, stretching his back to relieve the stiffness.

[No one is allowed to come near this tent.]

After that, he returned to the tribe and went to the weaving group to ask for some dyes. The weaving group had found a few types of plants and grasses with safe, colorfast pigments, suitable for dyeing fabric. Initially, the colors were monotonous, but following a few of Kaelen’s suggestions, the number of mixed colors had now reached about eighteen.

These colors were not merely extracted plant juices, but were also mixed with a special pigment powder used by the Priests to draw patterns during sacrificial ceremonies; they were very colorfast and adhered firmly, even on stone surfaces. The important thing was that just mixing a little of this powder with a bucket of plant dye was enough to use. Kaelen had once tried applying a bit of the original color and the color mixed with pigment powder onto a rock, then threw it into the fire to bake day and night. The next day, the original color had evaporated completely, while the mixed color was still there, even somewhat brighter.

He was very curious about this pigment powder mixture, but the Priests said it was bestowed upon them by the Divine Temple, and they didn’t know what it was either. Every three years, the Spring Festival would be held in the Beast City. At that time, the priests of the tribes would receive another portion of pigment powder, enough to use for three years.

Kaelen brought this pile of dyes back, waiting until tomorrow when the pottery blanks were dry to paint them on. Right now, the task at hand was to take care of this starving stomach.

---

The Magical Beast Forest.

The hunting party was on their way back, each person assigned to carry a specific number of prey. Because the prey still had a lingering breath of life left, they couldn’t be handled as easily as dead prey, making the group’s travel speed very slow.

Anthony’s face was as black as the bottom of a pot. He gloomily watched Walter walking closely beside a Gray Wolf beastman and a Silver Fox beastman they had saved on the road. The Silver Fox beastman was blabbering about something, and Walter was even laughing very happily. Obviously, when Anthony had saved Caleb, Walter’s attitude had been extremely harsh, yet when it came to this group of people, Walter acted very attentively. Anthony truly could not understand why Walter could have such double standards.

The story goes back to two days ago. At that time, they had bypassed the area with the highest concentration of magical beasts to return to the tribe. At this moment, they encountered another group of people fighting against magical beasts.

This group of people was very thin, with only three or four young beastmen. The rest were all elderly beastmen and Sub-Beasts, along with a few children. The Sub-Beasts and children were protected in the center of a circle. Although the beastmen on the outside were very weak, they still resolutely protected the people in the middle.

Walter and Zale only briefly glanced at the battle situation twice before giving the order: "Save them!" The situation now was completely different from when they met Caleb. Back then, the majority of the people had agreed with the decision of "not saving." In the end, what was the difference?

Anthony couldn’t understand it, nor did he want to. Right now, he only wanted to rush over and tear those two weakling beastmen to pieces! 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Christian felt a chill run down his spine, turning his head to look at the group behind them. Seeing the White Tiger beastman directing murderous intent at him and Aaron, his body immediately stiffened. He unconsciously took a step back, putting some distance between himself and Walter. Walter sharply noticed this, turned to look at Christian, and asked: "What’s wrong?"

Christian shook his stiff neck and said it was nothing. Walter’s sharp gaze swept lightly toward Anthony’s direction, carrying a warning in his eyes. Anthony only felt a bitter taste in his mouth, feeling incredibly aggrieved. How did they end up like this in the end? He knew he had been very unreasonable; the words blurted out in anger had unintentionally hurt Walter. Anthony had tried to fix his mistake, but Walter absolutely refused to give him a chance.

Zale looked at the color of the sky and gave the order for everyone to stop. Because of the newly joined group of people, their speed had been dragged down immensely. They should have been out of the magical beast area by now and speeding back to the tribe, yet they were still within the outskirts of the Magical Beast Forest.

Zale ordered: "It’s getting late, not suitable for traveling. Beastmen, go mark the perimeter of this area. Tonight we will rest here."

Marking the perimeter meant the beastmen leaving their scents to mark the territory as well as leaving their signals; as soon as any magical beast prowled near, they would discover it immediately. A few animal skin tents were pitched for the Sub-Beasts and beast cubs to huddle together, while the beastmen could sit leaning against trees or cliffs to rest. Everyone lit fires to roast meat, gathering together in one place. Walter couldn’t resist sliding closer to the nest of the still-blind Silver Fox cub, playfully poking the little fox’s pink paw pads. The fox cub stirred slightly, stretched its four legs out stiffly, then rolled over, leaving Walter with a view of its butt.

Walter giggled, turning to the other side to poke the little guy until the cub had to wake up. The sharpness on his face had now softened, becoming as gentle as any other Sub-Beast. Anthony watched this, completely mesmerized.

Not only Anthony, but the Silver Fox beastman Aaron also stared at Walter in a daze. He nudged Christian beside him, speaking in a low voice:

"He likes fox cubs. Since it’s like that, I must have a chance, right?" Aaron liked Walter very much; walking beside Walter was very comfortable and not at all constrained like being around other Sub-Beasts, moreover, they got along very well when talking. Before Christian could answer, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his pupils contracting into slits as he vigilantly looked to the left.

To their left, Anthony was using a gaze like looking at dead people to stare at them, making Christian’s heart pound wildly as cold sweat poured out of him. Aaron was a low-level beastman; he had long been scared into shifting to his beast form, burying himself against Christian’s leg, shaking like a leaf.

Anthony’s gaze swept over them with contempt. With only that much ability, daring to claim they wanted to be Walter’s mate, it was truly daydreaming!