"The branches of mangrove trees are something our tribe also uses as a seasoning, but we usually rinse and soak them in running water for a long time to weaken the toxins before using them.
"Even so, people still get poisoned sometimes. When you're poisoned by mangrove, your senses go numb starting with taste, and then you gradually lose the ability to move…"
At that point, Reedril stopped, because the boy behind him could still walk and fly. Aside from the bitter look on his face, he showed none of the symptoms of mangrove poisoning.
"To cure it, we pick the mangrove leaves before they mature and turn red, when they're still green, grind them up, and mix them with water into a juice for detox."
As he spoke, the Redleaf chief handed Broly a clay cup of freshly ground green leaf juice, adding a warning:
"It works well for mangrove poisoning. I don't know if it'll help with the bitterness in your mouth, though."
Broly took the cup. As long as it could ease the awful taste in his mouth, he did not care what it was. He drained it in one gulp.
Smacking his lips afterward, he realized the bitterness really had eased a lot. His eyes lit up.
"Can I have another?"
"Of course—but could you tell me how you saved my daughter?"
Reedril took the cup back and seized the chance to ask. He wanted to hear it from the boy who had rescued her.
The question troubled Broly. Reedril had only been saved "on the side," and there were seventy‑one such "side rescues."
Asked all of a sudden to describe one particular save in detail, he could not remember. All he could say was:
"There was some really big kind of prey chasing her from behind, so I went up and kicked it like this, and that prey chasing Rivarina just went 'waaah' and fell over."
Reedril: …
Someone please tell him what "some kind of prey" actually was. And what was with the boy lifting his leg, acting out the kick, then sticking his tongue out, tilting his head, and flopping onto the ground? Was that supposed to mean the thing chasing his daughter had been killed?
He could follow the basic plot as a man who'd lived his life among the mangroves, but the wild, mimed retelling somehow felt less clear than his daughter's simple explanation.
"Thank you for saving my daughter. You are a friend of the Redleaf Tribe. And we always treat friends with our best hospitality."
After easing the bitterness in Broly's mouth, Chief Reedril took the proper stance toward a benefactor and had the tribe prepare a great deal of food for Broly and the other children.
That meal was far better than anything they had roasted themselves in the forest—mostly because of seasoning, especially salt.
"Eat as much as you like. We can always make more."
"What's got the chief in such a mood?"
"He's happy. His missing daughter came back."
"You mean Rivarina? I thought she was dead."
"She wasn't. I heard she was grabbed by imperial slavers and sold to the giant forest up north, but someone helped her escape."
"So these kids are the ones who helped her?"
"Yeah."
"No wonder…"
After a few quiet exchanges, the Redleaf people understood why their chief was spending tribal stores on outsiders.
Some grumbled, but no one openly objected. A favor repaid is a favor well spent—around here, people believed that.
The night passed without incident. The children all slept deeply on the vine‑strung platforms the tribe had set aside for them.
When they woke the next day, the tribe had breakfast ready.
The kids were a little lost. It felt like they did not have to do anything.
Naturally, they all looked at Broly.
"If we want to earn our keep, we should help with hunting."
Hunting, in this case, meant fishing. But all the good spots in the mangroves—where fish liked to gather—were already occupied by the Redleaf people.
They did not drive the newcomers off outright, but they did make it clear that outsiders were not welcome at the pits they'd spent so much effort digging.
Fortunately, Broly had arrived the previous day with another mangrove in tow, and no one was fishing in those waters.
Rivarina came to fish with them. With no need to march elsewhere, the whole day slid by in easy work.
Some tribesfolk had assumed the outsiders were just freeloaders. They did not expect them to come back that night with a heap of fish.
Some Redleaf people acknowledged the children for that. Others still thought the newcomers were stealing the tribe's mangrove resources and muttered complaints.
"We weren't fishing your mangroves. We were on the one Big Brother Broly flew over with us. We're not taking your fish."
"Liar. Mangroves don't fly. You're stealing our fish."
That was enough for fights to break out between the children and the tribe's youngsters.
Redleaf kids were tough and good at fighting, but the children who had come out of Gifnora Seatre Forest were assassin candidates. Their combat ability was sharper. They won by a narrow margin.
The Redleaf adults felt shamed and moved to intervene, but the chief stopped them.
"Kids' fights are for kids. What business is it of adults?"
Words were not the only way to communicate. Fists worked too. Reedril had taken a liking to the group that had come back with his daughter and wanted to draw them into the tribe.
The best way to do that was to let the children "mesh" on their own, and accept each other naturally.
Things went just as he expected. The initial rejection was normal. After the kids had knocked each other around a bit, they gradually accepted playing with the outsiders.
What really sped things up, though, was Broly flying back to Gifnora Seatre Forest, hunting several danger beasts, and hauling them in.
Once the Redleaf kids saw that with their own eyes, they were completely swept up by the newcomers.
If Rivarina could swear loyalty to such an amazing Big Bro, they wanted a Big Bro like that too.
With a shared object of worship, they had common ground. Friction faded.
Put simply: as long as you agree Big Bro is awesome and you're willing to cheer for him with us, you're our best friend.
In less than five days, all the under‑tens in the tribe were playing together.
They went from "this is our tribe's (Big Bro's) mangrove—you outsiders (from other tribes) can't fish here" to "this is our mangrove—come fish whenever you want," even getting competitive over which side pulled up more fish.
The kids' attitude rubbed off on the adults too, and more importantly, the extra mangrove connection meant the tribe's daily catch went up.
"Broly, I challenge you!"
Just as the outside children were settling into the tribe, Rivarina's real big brother, Riparip, suddenly challenged Broly.
He had had enough of being called "Second Brother" around the village.
Before, whether from his sister or the other children, he had always been "Big Bro Rip." After Broly came, his rank dropped.
Now he wanted to use strength to reclaim his place as "Big Bro" in his sister's and the other kids' hearts.
"Broly, I know you're strong, so I won't hold back just because you're younger than me. I'll go all out and show everyone who the real big brother of the Redleaf Tribe is."
It was a struggle over hierarchy among the kids. At fifteen, not yet an adult, Riparip could just barely still count as one of them.
"Forget it, Second Bro Rip. You've never even hunted a danger beast. How can you measure up to Big Brother Broly?"
Most of the kids who said that were tribe‑born.
"Shut it. The only reason I haven't hunted danger beasts is because there aren't many around our mangroves.
"In terms of strength, I can dive in the deep water and bring up more than twenty freshwater pearls in one breath. I won't lose to anyone."
He leaned over a stump, ready to settle it with an arm‑wrestling match.
Three rounds, two wins—the clear result was that he lost them all.
"Strength alone doesn't mean much. Let's race—no flying."
Even barring flight, Broly easily outran him.
"Then we'll compare lung capacity."
Riparip dunked his face in the water and held his breath for thirty minutes. Only when he could not stand it anymore did he surface.
"How's that? My—"
"Big Brother Broly still hasn't come up."
"Not just him. Akame and Kurome are still holding their breath too."
In all the contests that followed, Riparip lost every time. Some of the younger children who joined the challenges midway even did better than he did.
"I lost, Big Bro!"
After an entire day of games, Riparip failed to regain his "Big Bro" status and instead willingly acknowledged a younger boy as his own big brother.
That was also the day Broly, through what to him were just a series of fun little games, somehow became the one and only Big Bro in every Redleaf child's heart.
He did not really care about the title. What made him happy was simply playing games together with everyone.
Akame's and Kurome's Happiness Values climbed quickly during the contests. Unfortunately, even after all these days, Broly still had not met any other girls the Crystal Palace recognized as potential wives.
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