His eyes, dark and as bottomless as an ancient well, sent a jolt through the surrounding Beastmen.
When the middle-aged Beastman saw him regain consciousness, he quickly squatted down and asked with concern, "Yuan Lang, how are you feeling?"
Yuan Lang's deep, dark eyes narrowed. He exhaled softly, suppressing the intense pain wracking his body. "I'm... alright."
His voice was low and heavy, as if he were holding something back.
The middle-aged Beastman sighed. He took a dried herb from the pouch at his waist. After a moment of hesitation, he finally held it out. "Yuan Lang, eat this."
Yuan Lang was one of the strongest Beastmen of the tribe's younger generation, as well as the leader of this salt-trading expedition.
In the battle against Fierce Beasts to protect the salt, he had sustained the most severe injuries.
Yuan Lang took the herb. His well-defined fingers, stained with blood and grime, gently broke off the tip and placed it in his mouth before he handed the rest back.
