"Ten measures of grain!"
In the small square of the Dragon Tribe, Brant looked at the freshly harvested grain laid out in front of him, with an expression of heartache:
"Without these ten measures of grain, for nearly a hundred days and nights to come, we'll have to split one meal into three parts."
"Where will we get the strength to go hunting?"
At this moment, the other members of the Dragon Tribe had already received the news and rushed over.
Thousands of people gathered around the square, discussing fervently.
Soon, this matter spread thoroughly throughout the tribe.
Everyone's face was filled with anger and indignation:
"Are those barbarians trying to exterminate us?"
"Ten measures of grain, they're trying to take our lives!"
"How can this be, didn't we already give them half of our land a month ago?"
Suddenly, a strong man, full of anger, said:
"Clan Leader, let's fight them."
"If worst comes to worst, we'll perish together; no one will have it easy."
