The crowd murmured in agreement. Farmers, women, even the weary hunters nodded. To them, results mattered more than origin.
Adrian gave a small, wry smile. So this is what it feels like to be trusted instantly, instead of questioned, doubted, and stabbed in the back.
The chief sighed. "Very well. You've earned a meal and a place here, Adrian the Builder. But understand this—those who bring change often bring trouble too."
His words proved prophetic faster than Adrian expected.
By midday, scouts returned with grim news. A band of raiders had been sighted nearby.
The atmosphere in the village turned heavy. Mothers pulled children indoors, men sharpened rusty blades, and the chief muttered prayers under his breath.
Adrian frowned. "Raiders? You mean bandits?"
The chief nodded gravely. "They come each season. They take our food, sometimes our people. We have no walls to stop them."
Adrian's engineer's mind immediately kicked into gear. No walls? Of course not. You've built your lives on fragile wood and mud. He scanned the village layout in his head—the huts clustered like dominoes, the narrow paths, the central well.
"Then let's build some," Adrian said firmly.