Sumo couldn't help but feel shocked.

The design of human beings in the world of belief is really exhaustive, and even this point has been fully considered.

If the inheritance of divine magic can only be obtained by the death of the old person and the new person, then the number of priests is actually fixed!

Even human players who entered the world of faith received three kilograms of divine minerals, held prayer ceremonies, and obtained magical talents.

There will also be a group of people who have no place to obtain the inheritance of divine magic, so they may have talents and be unable to practice and use them.

"Too cruel!"

Sumo couldn't help but improve his previous evaluation of the designer by one point again.

But what Thomas said is not all bad news. For example, this kind of magic that is of the same level but can be released ten times as many times does exist.

Since it exists, can we directly use the system to upgrade it and create an experience-earning magic spell exclusive to the Fire Fist tribe?

The dilemma we are facing now is that Shado, the high priest of the Benlei tribe, is too strong.

But as long as Thomas' strength can be increased to the same level as Shado, or even stronger than Shado, wouldn't the current predicament be easily solved?

Thinking like this, Sumo suddenly couldn't help coughing twice and felt a tightness in his chest.

Forehead.

Got a cold?

Feeling something strange coming from his body, Sumo felt helpless.

The people who designed the gambling space brought the physical fitness of all participating players back to their original shape, which undoubtedly increased the threat of nuclear winter.

But having said that, it is quite impressive that the body that has been restored to its original shape can endure a four-day long journey in low temperature weather.

Keep all your thoughts in your stomach for now.

After telling Thomas that he would find a way, Somo strolled around the Fire Fist tribe.

There are a total of sixty-seven houses used to live in the tribe.

Most of them are simply made of simple wooden boards, bark, and animal skins. The roof covering is thin, and the corners will lift when the wind blows.

Many of the houses are empty and have been temporarily requisitioned by the tribe and turned into warehouses for debris. You can tell from the dust covering the debris that the owners have not been back for a long time.

Walking on the tribal trails, Soma could see the residents trying every means to make up for their material scarcity.

The shabby clothes have been mended repeatedly, and it is no longer clear what color they were before.

The women wore wide, ill-fitting shoes and walked crookedly.

A few men sitting outside the house were making daily necessities from discarded metal fragments and old wood collected from unknown sources.

"Chief, wake up. Yesterday's candy was so delicious!"

"Patriarch, patriarch, when can we get candy like that again?"

"Chief, can you also be a priest now?"

"Chief, look at the weather this year, the food harvest is not optimistic. What should we do?"

"Clan leader..."

When Soma walked by, the men and women in the tribe immediately came over to him, showing no restraint at all.

Perhaps it was because everyone didn't know that the food was about to run out, but to the naked eye, Sumo felt that the mental state of these people present was healthier than that of the survivors of three years in the wasteland outside.

Is this the power of faith?

With this thought in his mind, Somo quickly walked to the most important place in the entire tribe.

greenhouse.

"Clan leader, why are you here so late?"

The devout believer ‘Nong Cao’ who was responsible for taking care of the greenhouse came up to him, his dark face still stained with mud.

Behind him is an oval yurt, about four times the size of an ordinary house.

With the heating tower providing heat, the plants in the greenhouse grow very slowly and are an important source of food for survivors in the world of faith.

"Are you still taking care of the farmland so late at night?"

"Hey, I just dug out a batch of potatoes. Although they are a little small, they can always fill my stomach."

Nong Cao smiled naively, pushed open the greenhouse door, and Sumo walked in.

The smell inside is not pleasant, and the dung buckets used for fertilization are placed on the right side of the entrance. There are four large buckets.

But in this environment, obviously no one cares about whether it smells bad or not.

Sumo lowered his body and picked up a potato from a pile of potatoes dug out by farmers. It was about half the size of a fist.

"We plant early-maturing varieties, and it only takes about fifty days to harvest."

"Only potatoes?" Sumo raised his head.

"Currently we only have potatoes. We used to grow wheat, but the last time the Benlei tribe came to plunder, they not only took away our flour, but also took away all the seeds."

Just potatoes won't do...

Although potatoes contain more starch and dietary fiber and are good carbohydrates, human survival requires a large amount of minerals and vitamins, as well as dozens of different amino acids.

If it cannot be obtained from food, the body will become thinner and thinner.

Before entering the gambling space, Sumo also put a lot of high-yield disaster-resistant seeds that had been improved several times in the Tianyuan territory into the carrying soul disk just in case.

However, distant water cannot quench the near thirst. The key now is to overcome the upcoming difficulties.
Chapter completed!