The indulgent and corrupt supply officers were a microcosm of the bureaucratic class that controlled resource distribution and managed the refugees.
The slightly better ones among them merely passed off inferior goods as good ones and embezzled grain. After all, against the overarching backdrop of food scarcity, food was the most important resource, and anyone would want to possess more of it.
Al intentionally had the tribesmen deal exclusively with these maggots, making it convenient to shift the blame later. Although the Beastmen could rapidly traverse between settlements using the power of the forest and the ley lines, only the tribe controlled this power, and he deliberately hid this fact from the humans.
The more excessive ones had already begun to openly act tyrannically within the settlements, using the excuse of food shortages. Because the distribution of supplies all went through them, relying solely on
the hunting and gathering of the respective settlements' main bases was very difficult to sustain. Furthermore, it was impossible for an ordinary person to prepare their own rations and travel alone through the dense forest to seek help from other tribes.
The power of corruption was more terrifying than Al had imagined.
This group of previously glamorous representative councilors and officials—merely due to the power of resource distribution combined with the external environment of being an independent kingdom, under the dark manipulation of the Reveler—turned into something akin to the dictatorial tyrants possessing absolute power in survivor camps from post-apocalyptic wasteland fiction.
The boy sought an explanation for this issue from the All-Knowing One. The Lord of the Ouroboros told him that this was because the Piña Forest had been infected by the power of the Everchosen and the Four Gods, gradually transforming into a unique environment similar to the great forest of Athel Loren.
Therefore, the effects of the Four Gods' power were multiplied here, and correspondingly, the emotions they controlled would also be more heavily influenced.
The fallen fall further, the ambitious strive harder... Al slapped his thigh, realizing that his recent addiction to smut was precisely because of this reason, only to be mocked by the Reveler Mom.
As everyone knows, Athel Loren is a place full of magic and strangeness. Even time frequently falls into chaos there; stories similar to Rip Van Winkle, or the reverse, happen frequently.
The Piña Forest was showing a trend of transforming into this kind of special environment.
Previously, Al ordered the mages of the Scholar Council and the Shamans to join forces, awakening the ley lines of the Piña Forest through a ritual. The power of the Four Gods subsequently permeated this land, causing it to brim with vitality, where all things competed to grow.
Beasts and plants grew wildly, but what followed was an environment that became even more fraught with hidden dangers.
The power of the Four Gods formed a balanced state here, intertwined with one another. The Beastman population of Al's tribe was continuously growing, and the cubs born grew faster and stronger than before, looking like normal versions of Al's scions.
Situations began to appear where the power of the Four Gods attached to beasts, altering their forms. For example, Tuskgors—which resembled wild boars—might exhibit:
A Bloodmother-enhanced version: fiery red all over, back covered in spikes, incredibly irritable, wanting to forcefully ram through any trees or rocks blocking its path;
A Loving Mother-protected version: covered in black mud and rocks, coated with fungal colonies, mushrooms, and plants, moving in packs;
A Lust version: capable of being in heat twenty-four hours a day just like a human, even mating relying on bodily instincts while asleep. They could be used as breeding stock; anyway, as omnivores, they could even eat Troll meat;
There were also other bizarre things, like incredibly vindictive red hounds, giant toads covered in vines and flowers, two-headed birds...
However, the effectiveness of hunting and gathering for mortals had dropped significantly, and casualties occurred very easily.
The changes in plants weren't as exaggerated yet, but there were already rumors of people seeing "fairies, nymphs, mysterious shadows, moving flowers, talking trees, mushrooms with human faces," and all sorts of other things in the woodlands.
Al didn't reject this transformation, because the Piña Forest would definitely be his tribe's main home base. For the Beastmen, the more dangerous it was here, the safer they were in a sense. Even if they suffered defeats outside and threw away their armor and weapons in the future, they could still run back to the deep mountains and old forests to stage a comeback, and enemies couldn't easily penetrate deep into it.
But the problem was, the refugees sheltering under the tribe couldn't handle it.
Unless they completely abandoned their civilization, integrated into nature, and blended into tribal life, they were destined to never fully adapt to this place and be accepted by the Piña Forest.
And Al definitely didn't want to end up like the Wood Elves, becoming an ultimate shut-in. He was the Everchosen who would use the tribe's formidable martial power to ruthlessly break through the Estalians' gates, conquer the kingdom, merge barbarism with civilization, arm barbarism with the creativity of civilization, and defend civilization with the martial power of barbarism.
Therefore, it was very important to him that these refugees maintained their original way of life in this regard. The purpose of going through untold hardships to bring these refugees here was to merge with them, accept them, and then use them as a foundational stepping stone to rule, manage, and accept even more Southerners—not to assimilate them all into tribal boys.
So he was also considering, was it time to make a move?
The Loving Mother was already disappointed by the foul atmosphere stirred up by those refugee elites during this period. She didn't interfere with Al's decisions; the suffering he brewed and caused would ultimately be accommodated by this merciful forgiver.
Al believed the Loving Mother understood that brief indulgence and darkness were preparation for enduring light, but the darkness before the dawn was indeed sometimes unbearable.
Sensing that his kind, universally loving mother, who embraced all the world with a chest as broad as the earth, was silently grieving over the things her good son was doing, Al—whose life was destined to be inseparable from filial piety—still felt somewhat ashamed.
Al craved motherly love so much that he would never be satisfied by what he currently had:
The goat mom's love, the centaur girl's love, the Paladin's twisted love, the swordswoman's love—which went from initial resentment to something akin to Stockholm syndrome now—the goat girls' love, the love of his scions and followers, the widow's love, the love of his biological mother—which he desired but couldn't attain and thus chose to let go of... and the "love" the four, or perhaps five, almighty Goddesses had for him.
He was forever craving more. To Al, even though he realized this was the influence the Reveler exerted on him to amplify the desires in his heart, Al was willing and viewed it as a blessing.
So how could Al disappoint that "motherly love"?
The human mother Marlena's plump breasts were continuously kneaded in the boy's hands, changing into various shapes. The two protruding cherry-like
nipples were bright red, and threads of sweet milk seeped out from them.
Al continuously thrust his lower body without a moment's pause, making the boy's sword slide in and out, in and out of the widow's flower room.
The weapon hadn't been worn down yet, but the scabbard was almost unable to bear it.
Although his fetishes had shifted significantly toward furries and Beastmen, Al still very much liked the widow's normal, beautiful human flesh. Surrounded by beast girls, with furry forces occupying the main positions in his harem, this gave him the joy of trying something fresh.
The Paladin was gradually becoming a nymphomaniac, and Al's playstyle with her was a bit more hardcore. Currently, the swordswoman Ann's bindings hadn't been completely removed; Al had only undone her gag and the restraints below her chest. While the boy parted her thighs and furiously pounded into her, he listened to this female mercenary—whose body was already involuntarily catering to and obeying him—spew obscenities, only to be fucked by the boy's spear until she tossed and turned, babbling incoherently.
But with the widow, he could experience the feeling of uniting with a normal, mature, gentle, generous, and plump young housewife.
So Al had been particularly fond of the widow lately.
Al was actually quite devoted (huge lie). If he wanted normal human women, given the current situation where there were far more women than men among the more than two hundred thousand refugees, even if it were a hundred thousand, he could have a hundred-person orgy every day without repeating a single face. And those corrupt elites would only desperately scavenge for beautiful women to present to the "Beastlord" to curry favor.
But currently, the only ordinary human woman by Al's side was the widow.
If the Paladin Claudia and the swordswoman Ann weren't counted.
Finally, the milky-white essence was entirely delivered into the widow's flower room. Her plump thighs wrapped tightly around the boy's waist, a fiery sensation spreading deep within her body.
The widow's moans ceased. She let out a long breath, and her body went limp.
Al lingered affectionately with the widow for a while before slowly withdrawing from her body.
Then, served by the goat maids, he cleansed his body, changed his clothes, and walked out of his residence.
His current residence was no longer the type of grand tent that was full of primal wildness but actually very crude.
The craftsmen among the refugees were gathered, and using transported stone and timber, they built him a forest palace.
Originally, the design was for the largest room to accommodate over a hundred people for an orgy.
However, Al didn't need that yet, so he scaled it down. It was styled with a front, middle, and rear hall. The front hall had an openable roof, convenient for large-sized subordinates to enter for military councils with Al; the middle hall was where the servants stayed; and the rear chamber was the private space for Al and his harem.
Soundproofing and anti-scouting spells, among others, were implemented very well.
Furthermore, as the Everchosen blessed by the Four Gods, aside from entities like Lileath and Be'lakor who excelled at prophecy and scrying, very few entities or gods could directly see him. Even if they could guess where he was, they couldn't see his specific situation.
In this regard, the one with the strongest concealment seemed to be the legendary Chameleon Skink of the Lizardmen, Oxyotl—a big shot who caused havoc alone in the Realm of Chaos for seven thousand years. It was said he didn't die during the End Times, but no one knew where he was hiding now. Presumably, the destruction of Lustria and the Lizardmen race made this chameleon lose his direction.
Al discovered he had a habit—whether good or bad he didn't know—of starting to think about serious matters right after having sex.
Or is it a habit all men have?
Thinking about sex while talking politics, talking politics while having sex...
As he pondered, he continued taking the Blessed Gorebull Alestar and his bodyguards—this time also bringing a few astute Beastman catchers—out to go fishing.
Ever since discovering earlier that these astute hunters could scout and drive schools of fish for him, ensuring the fish bit the hook, he brought a few of them along every time he went out to slack off and fish.
Publicly, it was proclaimed that the Everchosen (Beastlord) was racking his brains over the food problem, even personally going out to hunt and fish, worrying deeply for his refugee allies. Everyone knew this.
Who wouldn't be moved?