📅 Patreon Release Schedule – The Greatest City Developer
📘 Chapter 📅 Release Date
Chapter 58 to 87 Already there!
👉 Want to read ahead and support the series?
Join us on Patreon and access all chapters in advance!
http://patreon.com/WLTBneet
-----------------------------------
Thad and Nuk stepped forward without a word, grabbing the rope Athan had left near the doorway.
They moved with purpose, crouching beside the animal.
With quick, practiced hands, they began tying knots, looping two ropes carefully around its neck—one on each side.
They didn't want it running.
Ulf approached next.
Kneeling beside the creature, he reached for the bolas.
The goat flinched, its legs kicking weakly as he started unwrapping the cords.
Sensing the movement of all three men, the animal panicked again.
It thrashed hard—wild, sudden, desperate.
But the three of them were ready.
They pressed in, firm but not brutal, holding it down with weight and calm pressure until the last cord was removed.
Once its legs were free, the creature tried to bolt—springing toward the edge of the field.
But the ropes around its neck snapped tight.
Thad and Nuk dug in, each gripping their side with both hands.
The animal bleated loudly, the sound sharp and high.
It pulled and twisted, hooves skidding against the wet earth, but it couldn't escape.
It screamed again, loud and frightened.
Held fast between two men, the young goat fought for a few more seconds, then began to tire.
It didn't stop shaking—but it had less strength now.
Its panic gave way to exhaustion.
That's when the others began to arrive.
The cries had carried across the village, sharp over the quiet morning.
One by one, people stepped out from the house, looking toward the sound.
Wade was the first to reach them, his axe in his hand, his expression tense.
He scanned the scene quickly—Athan standing off to the side, the hunters crouched over a living animal, and the rest of the clan just starting to gather behind him.
"What's this?" Wade asked, his voice firm but low.
His eyes didn't leave the animal.
"You caught that thing. Why is it still alive?"
Others were arriving now, forming a loose circle around them—men, women, and the two girls.
Murmurs rippled through the group, all eyes bouncing between the creature and the boy.
Athan stepped forward, not rushed, not loud.
He stood between the men and the crowd, and spoke clearly enough for all to hear.
"It came in on its own," he said.
"It was eating near the fields. I caught it with the bolas."
He paused, letting that settle a moment.
"I want to keep it alive."
Wade frowned. "Why?"
Athan looked around—at the people, the fields, the new house, and back to the animal still panting in the dirt.
"If we keep it, and later catch more… they might stop running from us," he said.
"If we care for them, feed them, let them stay… they'll breed."
His gaze settled on Wade now.
"And if they breed, we get more. More animals. More meat. Not just for one meal. For many."
A quiet fell over the group.
No one spoke at first.
Athan lifted his chin slightly.
"Like the seeds in the field," he added.
"One becomes more—if we wait, and take care of it."
Wade said nothing for a moment.
Then he looked at the animal again—scared, tired, but alive.
Then back at Athan.
He didn't speak yet.
Wade let out a long breath.
Not quite a sigh of defeat—more like one of resignation.
He looked at the creature again, then turned his gaze back to Athan.
"Alright," he muttered. "We try it your way."
He didn't say more.
He didn't need to.
The tension in the group eased slightly.
That's when Rael stepped forward.
She hadn't spoken yet, but her eyes had never left the animal.
She stood close to Athan now, voice calm but steady.
"Is it dangerous?" she asked, not looking away.
Athan shook his head.
"It doesn't eat meat," he said. "It eats plants. Grass. Maybe roots."
He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But it has horns. Small ones. If it gets scared, it could hurt someone."
He looked around, making sure they understood.
"So… we still need to be careful."
Rael gave a slow nod, thoughtful.
Then she stepped back, letting others process the information.
The animal let out another soft bleat, tugging weakly at the ropes.
It wouldn't run now. Not yet. But if given the chance it would flee for sure.
As the tension faded and the villagers slowly returned to their tasks, Athan stayed where he was, staring at the animal still held by Thad and Nuk.
They couldn't just keep it tied up forever.
He needed to make something.
Something safe.
An enclosure.
But he had never built one.
He didn't know exactly how high it should be, or what kind of structure it needed.
Just scraps of memory.
Images from another life.
Goat are good climbers, he remembered. Really good. That was always the problem online.
He glanced toward the wood pile beside the construction shelter, already thinking about frames and height.
It didn't need to be perfect.
Just strong enough to keep the animal inside for now.
And far enough from the house not to make trouble.
He also knew something else—three things, at least.
Wool. Milk. Meat.
That's what goats were good for.
If they managed to raise it right… this one could give them all three.
Maybe not soon.
Maybe not much.
But it would be a start.
Athan turned to Wade.
"We'll make a place for it. A fence," Athan said. "I need some help moving wood and building it."
Wade raised an eyebrow, then gave a small nod, motioning for Ok and Yun to join him.
"Show us where."
Athan looked around, scanning the village.
Then he pointed toward a patch of dry ground where the wall met the cliff.
The spot caught the morning sun and stayed dry even after the rain—a good place to keep the animal without too much moisture.
Ok and Yun broke off to fetch the wagon, already heading toward the lumber stack.
Wade followed Athan to the site on foot, his steps steady behind the boy.
Thad and Nuk brought up the rear, still holding the ropes, forcing the animal to follow. It resisted at first, legs stiff, but it had little choice.
Once at the chosen spot, Athan turned to his father.
"Can you bring one of the small tree trunks?" he asked. "And the hatchet. Also… a hammer."
Wade nodded and set off without a word.
By the time he returned, Ok and Yun were unloading wood from the wagon, and Athan had already cleared a small section of the ground.
He took the trunk, stripped off the bark with the hatchet, then sharpened the end into a point.
Wade stood nearby, then stepped forward and took the hammer from Athan. Without a word, he drove the stake deep into the ground, using both hands until it stood firm.
Once the post was solid, they tied the goat to it.
The ropes were snug but not too tight.
The creature stomped once, tugged, then settled — clearly exhausted, but still wary of their intentions.
With the animal now secured, Thad and Nuk stepped back, stretching their shoulders.
They turned to leave, but Athan called after them.
"If you see more like this," he said, raising his voice just enough to carry, "bring them back."
He looked them both in the eye.
"We'll build a herd."
Thad and Nuk exchanged a quick glance, then nodded.
And with that, they turned and headed back toward the hunters' shelter.
With the goat secured and the others gone, Athan turned toward Wade, Ok, and Yun, who were already looking at him, waiting for the next step.
"We're going to need more trunks," Athan said, motioning toward the one they had just used. "Like that. Same size."
He looked at the pile they had brought.
"Plenty of rope, too."
Ok gave a small nod, already glancing toward the shelter where most of the rope was stored.
"We'll do like we did for the wall," Athan continued.
"Set the trunks upright, tie them together tight with rope. Make it strong enough so this one—" he pointed to the goat, still watching them nervously, "—and the others, when we catch more, can't climb or run."
Yun scratched his chin. "Same height as the wall?"
"Maybe lower," Athan replied. "But close. These animals climb. We'll need to check if it tries."
Wade crossed his arms but nodded slowly.
The logic was sound.
The work would be hard.
But they had done it before.
This time, it was just… for something new.
Athan stepped back from the stake, brushing dirt from his hands.
"I'll take care of the ropes," he said, turning toward the shelter where they kept most of the supplies.
Ok and Yun were already walking toward the wagon again, grabbing two more trunks from the pile, lifting them with practiced ease.
Wade stayed where he was, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the goat.
Before leaving, Athan paused and turned back toward his father.
"Watch the rope," he said, voice firm but calm.
"If it chews through it… it'll run."
Wade glanced at the animal, then at the rope, giving a short grunt.
"I'll keep an eye on it."
The goat gave another tug at the rope, testing it—but didn't seem strong enough anymore to break free.
Athan nodded once, then jogged off toward the house.
He dropped his tools from the wheelbarrow near the wall, stacking them neatly against the side.
Then, using the empty cart, he walked over to the rope shelter, his mind already calculating how much they would need to finish a full enclosure.
Thick ropes, strong ones—enough to wrap tightly between the trunks, just like the wall.
Once the wheelbarrow was filled, he made his way back toward the open space near the cliff where the goat was tied.
The animal had started pulling again, testing the limits of the rope, but aside from that, it wasn't doing much.
Wade stood nearby, arms crossed, watching it with a neutral expression.
Athan parked the wheelbarrow near the cleared patch and walked over to grab a hoe.
They would need to mark out the area and dig a hole for each post—just like they had done with the wall.
But just as his hand closed around the handle, a voice called out behind him.
"Are you planning to dig?"
He turned and saw Heidy approaching, flanked by the small group of women who usually worked with her shaping beams and planks.
They all looked slightly damp from the morning mist, but alert and focused.
Athan nodded. "Yes. We need to put up a wall to keep the animals from escaping."
Heidy glanced at the others. They shared a look—one of quiet understanding.
Then she stepped forward, took the hoe gently from his hands, and smiled.
"Then we'll help. Just show us where to dig."
Surprised—and more than a little happy—Athan nodded gratefully.
Once the women had each grabbed a hoe, he led them toward the new site, the future enclosure where the goat was still tethered and Wade still keeping quiet watch.
Athan walked the perimeter slowly, pointing to where each post would go.
He placed stones on the ground to mark the spacing—just like they had done for the outer wall.
The women followed his instructions without question.
Once the last mark was set, they spread out and began digging without delay.
There was no hesitation.
No chatter.
Just the steady rhythm of hoes striking earth.
The sound filled the clearing—clean, sharp, determined.
And for those who had been here since the start, it brought back memories.
Of the first wall.
The first ditch.
Of the day they chose to settle in this place.
Their arms moved with practiced strength, shoulders rolling with each swing.
This work was familiar.
It had meaning.
With Heidy's group digging and the builders setting the trunks in place, tying them tightly with rope, the construction moved quickly.
Each new post sank into the earth with practiced rhythm, and each connection was made stronger by the day's teamwork.
Wade had joined Ok and Yun in placing the trunks, taking over the heavy work.
He left the goat under Athan's care, trusting the boy to keep it from escaping — or at the very least, to warn them if it tried to.
Athan didn't mind.
He crouched nearby, watching the animal closely.
It had calmed down somewhat, though it still pulled at the rope from time to time, clearly not used to being restrained.
The boy's eyes moved over its legs, its build, its general shape—Until he paused, noticing something.
Its body was lean but strong, and the small horns barely curved upward yet.
But what caught his eye most were its rear legs and underside.
It wasn't just a goat.
It was a female.
Athan leaned back slightly, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Just as Athan was letting the thought settle in, he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned and saw Lara and Kali approaching slowly from the main path.
Both of them moved with caution, eyes fixed on the animal.
Kali held on to Lara's sleeve with one hand, half-hiding behind her.
Lara walked ahead, steady but alert, her gaze sharp.
Neither of them had seen an animal this close before—alive, breathing, and not meant for the cook pot.
They stopped a few steps away from Athan, not daring to come closer yet.
Kali leaned toward him slightly.
"It gonna bite?" she asked in a whisper.
Athan shook his head gently.
"No," he said. "It doesn't eat meat."
He glanced at them both, then back at the goat.
"But it has small horns. It could hit someone if it's scared. So… careful."
Lara nodded slowly, her eyes still on the creature.
Kali stayed close, but curiosity was beginning to win over fear.
They stood together, all three watching the animal in silence, something new, something wild.
After a moment
After a moment of silence, Athan turned slightly toward them.
"Can you bring some plants?" he asked. "Different kinds. Dry, fresh—whatever you can find nearby."
Lara blinked, eyes flicking back to the goat.
Kali took a small step back.
"I want to see what it eats," Athan continued. "Once it calms down, maybe it'll show a preference."
He paused, then added, "And a big bowl, too. We'll give it water."
The girls exchanged a quick glance—still wary of the animal, but clearly relieved to have a task that didn't involve standing too close to it.
Lara gave a short nod.
"Okay," she said.
Kali nodded too, already turning.
The two of them moved off quickly, their footsteps light as they disappeared down the path—
leaving Athan alone again, watching the goat as it tugged once more at the rope, then stood still.
Waiting.
He sat down quietly on the damp earth, just a few steps away from the goat.
He kept still, arms resting on his knees, eyes scanning the space around him.
The women were still digging, following the layout he had marked earlier.
Their movements were steady and precise, the hoes rising and falling with practiced rhythm.
A few meters away, the men were placing the trunks, lifting and tying them together, one by one, forming the start of a wall.
It was coming together fast.
But the air felt… tense.
Every few minutes, someone would glance toward the goat.
Quick, unsure looks.
Not fear, exactly—but unease.
It was clear:
Having a live animal inside the village, so close, made everyone uncomfortable.
Years of survival had taught them to fear anything that wasn't part of the clan.
Anything that moved without a name or a face they knew.
And the goat felt the same.
She didn't trust them.
Each time someone walked too close—even without looking at her—she pulled at the rope in the opposite direction, ears twitching, eyes wide.
She didn't understand.
The smells. The walls. The two-legged creatures circling her.
Everything was new.
And nothing felt safe.
Athan stayed where he was, silent.
Watching.
It would take time.
But time… they had.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement.
Lara and Kali were returning.
Kali came first, walking fast with both arms wrapped around a bundle of gathered plants—some green and fresh, others dry and fibrous.
Lara followed just behind her, carrying a large wooden bowl carefully filled with water.
They approached slowly, their steps cautious again as they neared the animal.
Kali slowed down, her eyes fixed on the goat's legs.
She stayed behind Athan, not quite hiding, but close.
"We got different plants," she said. "Soft leaves… some bark too."
"Good," Athan nodded, reaching out to take the bundle from her arms.
Lara knelt beside him and set the bowl down gently.
The water rippled from the movement, then stilled.
The goat didn't move toward them—but she didn't pull away either.
She just stood there, breathing hard, eyes flicking between the humans in front of her and the walls growing higher around her.
Athan placed the plants on the ground nearby—not too close, not too far.
Just enough for her to reach if she chose to.
Then he nudged the water bowl forward a bit with the flat of his hand.
And they waited.
The plants sat untouched.
The water bowl remained still.
The goat didn't move.
She watched them—eyes wide, ears twitching—her whole body tense, muscles coiled like she might bolt at any second.
But she couldn't.
The rope held firm.
Athan kept his posture relaxed, not trying to get closer.
Kali knelt beside him, hugging her knees. Lara sat a little farther back, quiet but watchful.
After a long silence, Kali whispered, "She not eat."
Athan nodded. "Not yet."
"She scared?" Lara asked softly.
"Yes," Athan replied. "Too scared to eat. Or drink."
He didn't take his eyes off the goat.
"Maybe later," he added. "When no one's watching."
The three of them stayed there a little longer, not speaking much.
Just listening.
To the soft sounds of digging.
To the ropes tightening as new trunks were placed.
And to the quiet breaths of an animal probably trying to understand where she was—and why.