Chapter 85: Air Cavalry!



"Those three Kodos, they came with the refugees," the report noted with a hint of urgency.

Logan, the tribal chief, acknowledged the news with a solemn nod, his curiosity piqued by the mention of new creatures. Leaning forward slightly, he inquired in a low, measured tone, "And what of other species? Are there others brought along as well?"

The aide, aware of the limited breeding facilities available, only three houses designed for such purposes, quickly added, "Indeed, Chief. We've also secured eighty juvenile Blue Wind Cattle. Initially, our plan was to acquire a herd of two hundred, but alas, the Warcraft merchant's stocks were depleted. The remainder shall arrive by next month's end."

"Ah, they're already out grazing?" Logan mused, picturing the vibrant young creatures bounding across their new pasture. Kodiak, the breeder, chimed in, "Yes, they're adapting well. Should you wish to inspect them, we could ride out on wolves at your convenience."

"No, that won't be necessary," Logan replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, his smile broadening. "Focus on scaling up our magical beast stocks expeditiously. Our tribe's expansion waits for no one, and keeping pace with the growing demand for meat is crucial."

He leaned back, his gaze sweeping the horizon as he envisioned the future. "Imagine, Kodiak, feeding tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of our people. We must increase our breeding operations strategically, there's no cap to our ambitions, but we must not expand recklessly."

"Understood!" Kodiak nodded vigorously, his mind awash with visions of vast stables capable of sustaining such a populous tribe.

"In addition to your efforts," Logan continued, a serious undertone to his voice, "the tribe will allocate five hundred gold coins monthly to support your acquisition of more cubs."

Kodiak's eyes widened, surprise etched on his features. "Five hundred a month?" he echoed, incredulous. The sum was staggering; with six thousand gold coins annually, the possibilities for enhancing the breeding pens were immense.

"I'll confer with my advisor, Uncle Lotte, on this matter," Logan added, his tone firm yet reassuring. "Transparency in the expenditure of these funds is essential. While I trust you implicitly, we must also maintain the confidence of the entire tribe."

"Absolutely, Chief!" Kodiak responded, barely containing his elation. "I'll ensure every coin is accounted for and report all transactions to Lord Lotte in detail."

With such substantial financial backing, Kodiak felt a profound responsibility. The transformation of the animal pens over the next year wouldn't just be significant, it would be monumental, a fitting testament to the trust Logan had placed in him.

"Hmm," Logan murmured, a contemplative smile playing on his lips. After a brief pause, he addressed the issue pressing on his mind, "Our numbers of wargs are insufficient. The wolf cavalry represents the elite force of our werewolf tribe. As we stand on the brink of expansion, so too must our military capabilities grow. Yet, we operate with less than three battalions of wolf cavalry."

With a decisive tone, he continued, "Contact the Warcraft merchant. We need to secure more wargs, males, females, cubs, we'll take any. We need them in large numbers, the more the better!"

Currently, the tribe boasted a mere 400 wargs, primarily due to captures from the last great alliance. Yet, those capable of joining the battle-ready ranks of wolf cavalry numbered fewer than three battalions. According to the military structure of the Silver Mane Tribe, each battalion comprised about 100 warriors, formed from smaller units of squadrons and flights.

"And of those, the second battalion forms my personal guard," Logan added, his expression turning grave. "Three hundred wolf cavalry is a far cry from what is needed to realize the grand ambitions I harbor for our tribe."

Thus, augmenting their warg numbers was paramount.

"Chief, I understand!" Kodiak responded promptly, recognizing the critical role the wargs played in bolstering the tribe's strength. He prioritized this mission above all others.

Jane blushed slightly and playfully tousled Kevin's hair. "She cooked it herself?"

Logan, still enjoying his meal, looked over at his brother with a teasing grin. "Does it taste different from what mother makes?"

The siblings all turned their attention to Kevin, curious about his response.

Kevin, slightly taken aback by the sudden focus, replied, "Of course, it's different. Can't you taste Sister Jane's special touch in this?"

Logan laughed and affectionately patted Kevin on the head. "You really have a fine palate!"

"Of course, he's got good taste. That little girl Marida is quite the catch, isn't she?" Jane added, winking mischievously as she ruffled Kevin's hair again.

"What do you mean by that?" Logan inquired, a playful suspicion in his tone.

"Sister Marida wants to be Brother Kevin's wife!" piped up Ginny in her innocent, high-pitched voice.

At this revelation, Kevin, looking like a deer caught in headlights, wrapped his arms around Ginny in a protective hug. "Who told you to say that?"

But Ginny, unfazed by her brother's feigned severity, declared boldly, "Brother Kevin said it himself!"

"You're in trouble now, Kevin!" Kevin released Ginny and lunged towards his fourth brother.

"It wasn't me! It was our Relk brother who said he heard it himself!" Kevin defended himself as he darted away, with accusations flying amidst laughter.

"Relk, you scamp, come out and face me!"

As the playful chaos unfolded, Logan shook his head with a smile. This was the true essence of happiness.

Turning back to Jane, he complimented, "Your cooking has really come a long way, it might even rival our mother's!"

"Ugh, your hands are all greasy!" Jane exclaimed with a mock grimace, though her smile betrayed her true delight.

Ginny, observing the interactions with a mix of awe and confusion, clambered into Logan' lap. "I want more!"

"Alright, big brother will get you some more," Logan promised warmly, ready to serve up another helping to his little sister.