CHAPTER 55: NOT JUST A TRIBE—A KINGDOM

"Well, I've come from very far with my family, but got lost," John explained, his tone steady as he carefully crafted a backstory. "I'm sure my family is fine. If you let me stay here and they come looking for me, you'll get a big reward."

He kept his voice casual, masking the fact that every word was a fabrication. But to his relief, it landed just right.

Albert's eyes lit up at the mention of a reward. The subtle shift in his expression betrayed the eagerness he was trying to hide. This—this was precisely what he had hoped to hear. John had unwittingly handed him the perfect justification for his presence here. The way John phrased it—implying he came from a wealthy and important tribe—only made it better.

Great, the old man thought, a satisfied smirk playing across his face as he looked at the boy beside him. He didn't say anything, but the calculating glint in his eyes said enough.

Their group continued down the path, now nearing the edge of the valley where the tribe awaited. Soon, they arrived at the entrance.

Five towering guards stood vigil, their broad shoulders squared, spears clutched like they were born holding them. Their presence was undeniable—formidable, powerful, and deeply intimidating. The way they moved, even as they stood still, was enough to make most people shrink.

John slowed slightly, taking in the sight of them. A genuine look of admiration flickered across his face.

"If these guys came to our world," John thought to himself with a smirk, "girls would go crazy over them."

The guards were meticulous. They examined each person carefully, leaving no detail overlooked. Nothing escaped their attention. When it came to John, their eyes lingered a bit longer—assessing, calculating—but Albert stepped forward, calmly explaining John's situation. Whatever Albert told them seemed to satisfy the guards, because after a brief pause, they stepped aside.

They were granted entry into the tribe.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the air shifted. It felt denser here—heavier. John could feel eyes watching from the shadows, the weight of unseen judgment hanging in the air. His feet instinctively slowed, his senses sharpening.

"Alright, John," Albert said, his voice low, suddenly serious. "We've entered the tribe now."

John turned to look at him.

"But be careful," Albert warned. "Don't offend anyone."

His tone was heavier now, stripped of its earlier warmth. "You're still weak. And the strong tend to dominate the weak here."

John nodded slowly, absorbing the message.

Albert continued, "And tomorrow morning, be ready. You'll have to meet the King Alaric. You'll need to explain how you came here, how long you'll stay, and what you'll contribute in return."

John frowned slightly at that.

"Wait," he said, almost instinctively, "during the day?"

Albert looked at him, confused.

"Can I meet at night?" John asked. "I haven't slept in two days stuck in the jungle. I'd rather rest in the morning and meet the King at night."

There was a pause.

The others around them exchanged glances, then gave small nods. It was an unusual request, but not unreasonable.

"Alright," Albert said eventually, relenting.

But John, perhaps relaxed by the small victory, leaned closer and muttered under his breath—though not quietly enough—"Hope this King isn't some grumpy old fossil with a stick up his—"

In a flash, Albert's hand shot out and clamped firmly over John's mouth.

"Shh!" he hissed, his eyes wide, panic flooding his face. His gaze darted around the area, scanning to see if anyone else had heard. The atmosphere had changed instantly. What had been an easy conversation turned into something tight, fearful, and tense.

John's own eyes widened in surprise.

Albert didn't speak. He just shook his head slowly—warning, begging, pleading—with his expression alone.

John got the message.

Whatever he'd just said, however harmless it may have seemed, it had crossed an invisible line.

And in this tribe, some lines were better left uncrossed.