The Strongest War God-Chapter 1177 - : Brother, Don’t Poke My Butt!

Chapter 1177: Brother, Don’t Poke My Butt!

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

According to Braydon Neal’s estimation, the elder was likely at the upper ranks of the pinnacle realm.

Otherwise, a weaker tribe wouldn’t have been able to survive in the wild.

Those spirit beasts would have likely attacked their tribe long ago and devoured them.

“Brother, someone else is coming!” the little fool exclaimed suddenly.

A group of people approached from the southeast.

There were at least a hundred of them, scanning the bushes as if searching for something.

Clearly, they were on the lookout for a rare treasure!

Braydon squinted, filled with doubt.

Both he and Luke had encountered rare treasures.

Luke almost cooked a rare treasure.

The two brothers were quite familiar with these extraordinary finds.

If the rare treasures wanted to escape, they would immediately burrow underground, disappearing without a trace.

Did these aborigines not know?

With so many rushing in, the rare treasures would have likely fled long ago if he had been alerted.

Braydon patiently waited behind a tree in the distance.

The hundred-man search team from the southeast was mostly clad in beast clothing, with very few wearing coarse linen garments.

The young man leading them wore splendid attire adorned with gems.

His status was evidently high!

The two aborigines guarding the area humbly knelt down and bowed, even using their faces to kiss the young man’s shoes.

Such a display of deference caught Braydon’s attention.

Perhaps this was a genuine aborigine sycophant!

“Young Master Hatendi, it must have been hard on you!” The aboriginal man bowed and spoke.

“Is there anything special here?” the young man inquired calmly.

It was important to note that among the aborigines, only the descendants of experts could have a surname.

Each surname represented a legacy!

The aborigine man, however, wasn’t worthy of a surname. He could have a name, but not a surname, placing him at the lowest level with low status.

The aborigines strictly adhered to the rule of hierarchy.

This rule was deeply ingrained in everyone’s consciousness.

The young man’s surname was Hatendi, and his name was Saadat.

In other words, his name was Saadat Hatendi!

He was also the grandson of the Mahona Tribe’s elder, holding a noble status.

Not everyone in a tribe was united.

There were nobles and ordinary aborigines.

In a tribe of 10,000 people, a few noble families likely held dominion.

These nobles controlled the cultivation path and all the tribe’s resources, with 99% of the people serving them.

Disobeying these nobles meant challenging their authority, and the consequence was immediate execution!

“We’ve been guarding this place, and so far, we haven’t found anything special,” the aboriginal man replied sincerely.

“Stay vigilant. If we discover the rare treasure, our tribe will receive Lord White Tiger’s protection. Then, you won’t need to worry about food anymore, and your descendants will have the privilege to enter the Small Divine City!”

Saadat explained the potential benefits, stirring a desire in the eyes of the aborigines beside him.

Their tribe depended on hunting for sustenance.

Hunting unintelligent fierce beasts provided their food.

Yet, they often went hungry.

Therefore, they hoped for an endless supply of food.

They cherished their children, wishing they wouldn’t face a future as humble as theirs.

“Young Master Hatendi, did that rare treasure escape?” the aborigine youth inquired.

“No, my grandfather used a spirit artifact to confine the area. That rare treasure can’t escape. It must be here. If you search carefully, you will definitely find it.” freeweɓnøvel.com

Saadat reassured everyone.

Braydon, observing from a distance, gleamed with interest.

The Mahona Tribe possessed a spirit artifact!

As common knowledge dictated, spirit artifacts were crafted from materials obtained from spirit beasts.

How could such a modest tribe openly employ a spirit artifact?

Doing so risked the ire of high-level spirit beasts from the spirit beast race.

Just as Braydon was pondering…

“Brother, stop poking my butt,” complained the little fool unhappily.

Braydon: “???”

Braydon didn’t poke his butt!

Only Tobey Lapras and the little fool engaged in such antics.

Braydon and the little fool exchanged glances.

Swoosh!

They both turned their heads simultaneously.

In the end, they saw a small tree!

The tree stood only three feet tall, with a bare body. Yet, its trunk exuded vitality and strength. All its green leaves had fallen off, leaving only a single green leaf on the main stem, creating a pitiful appearance.

Using its two branches like small hands, it was playfully poking the little fool’s butt.

“What is this?”

Luke tilted his head, expressing curiosity.

“Treasure?” Braydon’s eyes lit up as he whispered.

“That’s what those people were looking for!”

Luke instantly perked up, a trail of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

After staring at it for a while, his eyes held a trace of suspicion. Could this small tree be eaten?

How could this thing be considered a rare treasure?

The small tree seemed somewhat frightened. It felt that the gaze of the simple-minded young man was more terrifying than those who were searching for it. He appeared akin to a fierce wolf.

Braydon was genuinely surprised. Why did this rare treasure choose Luke?

On their journey, the little fool had encountered numerous rare treasures!

A ginseng fruit resembling a chubby baby.

A spirit mushroom resembling a little rabbit.

All were beings with opened spiritual apertures.

Now, another small tree. Clearly full of spirituality, it may not appear strong, but it possessed great potential.

How could these things find Luke?

Before Luke and the little tree could communicate…

“Who’s there?” Saadat’s eyes pierced through the surroundings. “Come out!”

“I’m your father!”

Luke immediately leaped out, appearing like a beggar.

His appearance was even more unkempt than that of an aborigine!

“Which tribe do you hail from?” Saadat inquired.

“Young Master Hatendi, could they be wanderers?” the aboriginal man suggested cautiously.

Fear appeared in Hatendi’s eyes immediately.

Throughout the Ruins World, the aborigines weren’t universally united.

Numerous indigenous tribes expelled individuals for significant transgressions. These exiled people roamed outside, lacking a home to return to, thus becoming wanderers.

Wanderers survived in the wilderness, but their lives were often short-lived. Living alone meant vulnerability to spirit beast attacks, becoming prey to them.

Yet, if wanderers survived and adapted to the wilderness, they were ruthless individuals. They would hunt other aborigines and seize their possessions.

Luke and Braydon were treated as wanderers.

Braydon concealed his aura, and so did Little Fool.

Saadat and the others didn’t suspect that the two brothers were martial artists.

Braydon spoke in the aboriginal language.

Jada had taught Braydon and Luke some aboriginal languages.

The little fool enjoyed learning such fanciful things.

Regardless of proficiency, he could always bluff his way through.

“Are you from the Mahona Tribe?” Braydon asked in the aboriginal language.

“Yes, and where are you from?” Saadat questioned, vigilant.

“We are the wanderers you speak of. We have no fixed abode!” Braydon smiled and replied softly.

“Damn it, be on guard!”

Saadat’s pupils contracted.

He issued a stern warning, alerting everyone to stay on guard.

It was evident that the reputation of wanderers was unfavorable.