The following days saw a silent, seismic shift in the tribe's dynamics. Chief Boru became a ghost in his own camp. He would sit for hours, sharpening the same spearhead over and over, his eyes hollow.
The tribe, guided by the aura of Leo's cloak and the potent combination of his various charms, now looked past their former leader. Their gazes, their questions, their deference, all were directed at the silver-cloaked shaman.
Leo reveled in it. He held court by the central fire, with Lana braiding his hair on one side, Rana offering him choice cuts of meat on the other, and Una, the deposed queen, often sitting nearby, her presence a silent, powerful endorsement that crushed any remaining dissent.
But Leo knew the problem wasn't truly solved. Boru was still a physical presence, a living reminder of the old ways. A symbol that could, in theory, be rallied around.
'A rotting limb needs to be amputated,' Leo thought coldly, watching the former chief from across the camp. 'And I have just the tool for a bloodless surgery.'
He had been studying the Ritual Dagger of Subtle Malediction. It didn't need to draw blood, it just needed to be used in a "ritual." The system's loophole was a gift to a manipulator like him.
He announced a Grand Cleansing Ceremony. The tribe, now fully under his thrall, gathered eagerly. Leo stood before them, his Cloak of the Alpha shimmering in the firelight, the black dagger in his hand.
"The spirits are pleased with our unity!" he declared. "But a shadow lingers. A shadow of doubt, of stubbornness, of clinging to the past! This shadow weakens us all! Tonight, we cut it loose!"
His eyes found Boru, who was watching from the edge of the crowd, his expression grim.
"We will not harm the flesh," Leo intoned, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "We will cleanse the spirit that clings to it!"
He began a chanting, swirling dance around the fire, the black dagger tracing patterns in the air. He was putting on a show, but his focus was laser-sharp on Boru. As he passed closest to the former chief, he made a subtle, slicing motion with the dagger towards Boru's shadow, whispering a "curse" under his breath.
[Item Effect Activated: 'Ritual Dagger of Subtle Malediction'. Target: Boru. Effect: Paranoia and Minor Illness.]
Nothing seemed to happen immediately. The ceremony concluded, and the tribe dispersed, feeling cleansed and unified.
The effects manifested over the next two days. Boru, already brooding, became truly paranoid. He would start at shadows, accusing tribes people of whispering about him.
Then, a racking cough settled in his chest, a minor illness that left him weak and feverish. To the tribe, it was a terrifying confirmation of Leo's power. The shaman had identified the "shadow," and the shadow was now visibly suffering.
It was Una who delivered the final blow. She came to Leo, her face etched with a complex mix of grief and grim necessity.
"The spirits... they are punishing him for his resistance," she said, her voice trembling. "He weakens the whole tribe. He... he must be cast out. For the good of all."
Leo feigned a look of profound sadness. "The spirits are harsh, but their will is clear. It is a heavy burden, but we must bear it for the tribe."
The next morning, it was done. A weakened, coughing Boru was given a waterskin and a spear and formally exiled from the tribe he had led for a decade. He looked once at his wife, at his daughter, both of whom stood resolutely beside Leo, then turned and stumbled into the wilderness without a word.
'Don't worry Boru, I will take good care of them, and take care of them every night.'
[Conquest Achieved: Total Domination of the Stone Age Tribe!]
[Gacha Points Awarded: 200!]
[Title Upgraded: 'Fake Shaman' has evolved into 'King of the Caves'. All persuasion effects are doubled within your territory.]
A wave of euphoric power washed over Leo. He had done it. He had completely and utterly conquered them. He was no longer a shaman, he was a king.
With his now massive hoard of 530 Gacha Points, he indulged in a spending spree. The wheel gave him a 'Fertility Idol' that subtly increased the tribe's birth rate, a 'Hearth-Stone' that kept the central fire perpetually burning, and a 'Whispering Wind' charm that allowed him to send his voice to a single person anywhere in the camp.
He stood at the mouth of the chief's cave or his cave, and looked out over his domain. The tribe was his to command, to shape, to use. Lana, Rana, and Una were his loyal consorts, each a trophy of a different kind of conquest.
With Boru exiled and the tribe firmly in his grip, Leo allowed himself a period of indulgence. He enjoyed the fruits of his conquests, the devotion of his women, the fear and respect of the tribesmen, the constant stream of minor Gacha Points from the tribe's daily activities that his "King" title now generated. But the mind of a manipulator is a restless one, and soon, his eyes began to wander again, seeking a new puzzle to solve, a new peak to conquer.
His gaze fell upon her once more: Kira, the spear-sharpener.
She was different from the others. Where Lana was fierce and Rana was privileged, Kira was… quietly formidable. She spent her days by the grinding stone, her muscles coiling and releasing with a rhythmic grace as she honed razor-sharp edges onto flint and obsidian.
She rarely spoke, and when she did, her words were as sharp and precise as her spearheads. She had watched Leo's rise with an unsettling stillness, her dark eyes missing nothing. She had accepted the Pigment of Persuasion mark, but it seemed to have less effect on her, her gaze remained analytical, skeptical.
"That one," Leo thought, a thrill of challenge coursing through him. "She doesn't look at me like a god or a hero. She looks at me like a problem to be solved. Or a piece of meat." The thought was oddly arousing. Conquering the willing was fun, but conquering the resistant? That was the real sport.
He approached her during her work. The screech of stone on stone was the only sound.
"Your work is the backbone of the tribe's strength, Kira," he began, turning on the charm, the Braid of Allure and Cloak of the Alpha working in tandem.
She didn't stop her work. She didn't even look up. "A sharp spear is the difference between eating and being eaten, Shaman Leo. It is a simple truth."
'Okay, immune to flattery. Noted.'
"The spirits tell me your hands are blessed," he tried again, leaning against a post. "They say you can feel the true heart of the stone."
This time, she paused. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. They were the color of dark flint, and just as hard. "The stone has no heart. It only has edges. And my job is to find them." She went back to her work, effectively dismissing him.
A flicker of irritation, quickly suppressed, rose in Leo. 'This is new. A woman who isn't impressed by my spiritual mumbo-jumbo.' His 'Heart-Stealer' title was meant for the emotionally vulnerable, but Kira was a fortress of pragmaticism.
He realized his usual tactics—the promises of spiritual elevation, the flattery—were useless here. She was a creature of pure function and sharp edges. To conquer her, he would need to speak her language. The language of power and utility.
He waited for the next hunting party to form. When the hunters gathered, he didn't just give a generic blessing. He walked up to Kira's station.
"Bless the spears, Kira," he commanded, not as a request, but as an order from a commander.
She looked at him, a question in her eyes.
"Not with words. With this." He produced the 'Pigment of Persuasion'. But instead of drawing a spirit symbol, he took a spear from the pile. "The mark of the hunt will not be on the hunter, but on the weapon itself."
He carefully painted a single, sharp, downward-slashing line along the wooden shaft of the spear, just behind the head. "A symbol for a single, killing blow."
He handed it to a hunter. The man's eyes glazed slightly, his grip on the spear becoming more certain, his focus narrowing to a deadly point.
[Item Effect Adapted: 'Pigment of Persuasion' applied to weapon. Effect: Slightly increases the wielder's accuracy and lethal intent.]
Kira watched, her sharp eyes widening a fraction. This was not vague spirituality, this was a tangible enhancement of her work. This was a language she understood.
Leo did it for every spear. The hunters felt the difference, their confidence surging. They looked at Kira's spears and Leo's mark with a new kind of reverence.
After the successful hunt, Leo returned to her. He didn't smile. He was all business.
"Your spears are the finest, Kira. But my blessing can make them legendary. Together, we can make this tribe unstoppable." He was offering her a partnership in power, framed in terms of pure, practical results. "You focus on the physical edge. I will provide the spiritual one. It is the ultimate sharpening."
He saw the conflict in her eyes. Her skepticism warred with the evidence she had just witnessed. She valued strength and results above all else, and Leo had just demonstrated a potent new form of both.