Hei Jia's death didn't cause a ripple on the South Desolate Middle Road.
Soon, except for a few people who were close to him, his name would gradually be forgotten, as if he never existed.
For Jiang Xuan, it was merely the removal of a hidden danger; once he's killed, he's forgotten.
Presently, he had more important matters at hand, such as iron forging.
Iron, a metal more suitable than bronze for making tools, was also key to the Vine Tribe's rapid resource accumulation and establishment in the central area.
The ninth year of the Vine Tribe's establishment, September 19.
"Wuuu wuuu..."
Above the Nanhe River, the familiar sound of the horn blew once more.
Five large ships raised their sails and set off, carrying various goods and Vine Tribe warriors downstream along the Nanhe River.
On the deck of the leading ship, Jiang Xuan and Jing Jie stood side by side, gazing at the expansive surging river ahead and the retreating scenery on both banks.
