"Please, take a seat," Logan said, gesturing broadly to the plush chairs arranged around the polished oak table.
Begon, his uncle, nodded appreciatively and chose a seat next to Logan, who also found himself a chair directly across. The room settled into a quiet anticipation.
Logan's eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and respect as he spoke, "The Duskin tribe is truly magnanimous. To think they sent us a sixth-level powerhouse as an envoy."
The messenger from Duskin, Kule, maintained a composed facade, though his expression faltered ever so slightly. Despite his control, it was clear that Logan had seen through his considerable strength.
Could it be that our intelligence was flawed? Kule pondered, scrutinizing Logan. Is he not merely a fourth-level warrior as we presumed? After a moment, he dismissed the thought. The difference between the fifth and sixth levels was too great; sixth-level warriors could harness and project their fighting spirit, manifesting it through combat techniques.
In contrast, those below that threshold contained their spirit solely within their bodies, each advancement refining and enhancing their physical form until the fifth level, where their peak physical condition allowed them to channel the spirit outwardly.
And yet, Logan's aura suggested he hadn't breached the fifth level.
Overhearing the exchange, Begon expressed his astonishment, "You've ascended to the sixth level? It's remarkable to see such progress after all these years apart."
Kule chuckled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Indeed, fortune smiled upon me. I joined a prominent mercenary group last year and received mentorship from an eighth-level lieutenant. It was that guidance that ushered me to the sixth level."
His smile widened as he turned to Begon, "You should venture out more, old friend. Your potential has always surpassed mine. Staying confined within the tribe's daily squabbles, never testing yourself in real combat, it's truly a waste of your talents."
Begon remained impassive, reflecting on their past. They had been close, taking on the mercenary path together years ago. Time had passed, and now, after nearly a decade, Kule stood before him, transformed and vastly more powerful.
For nearly a decade, Begon had been mired at the fifth level, his time consumed by the burdens of tribal governance, causing his martial prowess to languish.
He had nearly resigned himself to this fate, but witnessing his old comrade Kule stride past the formidable barrier that had long thwarted him stirred a dormant fire within him.
Kule, facing Logan, explained the purpose of his visit with a note of urgency. "The chief dispatched me because the wilderness has grown perilously chaotic, and it's simply too unsafe for less capable hands!"
Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet not overly concerned by the revelation of Kule's familiarity with his uncle. "Indeed, the wilderness are fraught with peril. However, I suspect your chiefs might take a leaf out of our book on how to manage these dangers," he replied with an easy smile.
Kule offered a sheepish grin in response, his discomfort visible. His tribe, the Duskins, had sent him as a safeguard against the predatory Silver Mane tribe, which had recently inflicted significant losses on them. This tension not only heightened the other tribes' vigilance towards both Silver Mane and Duskin but also strained Duskin's trade relations, impacting their smaller ventures severely.
"Let's cut to the chase," Logan shifted the conversation to pressing matters. "When will the 60,000 kilograms of grain be delivered?"
Age: 10 years old
Occupation: Fourth-level warrior (Experience: 62/100)
Prestige: 1678 (Threshold: 1000)
Practice Level: 6/10
Position: Chief of the Silver Mane Tribe
Nation: 3873
Military Forces: 753 warriors, 206 Warg Cavalry
Stables: Warg...
Territory: 1620 square kilometers
Marketplace: Open
Professional Inheritance: Open
Sub-professional Inheritance: Open
Logan noted the update in the warrior ranks, a second-level warrior had ascended to the third level. This brought the total to four warriors advancing in just the past fortnight. His own experience points had also increased, from fifty-eight to sixty-two.
Yet, these advancements paled in comparison to the surge in his prestige since his rousing speech about constructing a warrior temple, which had boosted his reputation by over 1,200 points and it was still climbing. Logan pondered the mysterious influx of reputation. With over 3,000 tribe members, the numbers didn't quite add up.
His reputation now far exceeded the 1,000-point threshold. He wrestled with the decision to break through to the fifth level, tempted by the power it would confer. However, he also recognized the value of his reputation as a reserve to be tapped during emergencies, especially given the tribe's looming food crisis. It could prove crucial for survival, a way to trade prestige for much-needed supplies.
In the end, Logan decided against upgrading. Retaining his reputation points could be vital in times of need, and he could always opt to increase his warrior level later.
About half an hour later, Begon reentered the council chambers.
"The Duskin werewolf prisoner has been escorted away," he reported succinctly, confirming the departure of the captured foe.