As Rem's stern words cut through the morning air, the wolf cavalry soldiers snapped to attention. Yet, despite the wake-up call, they faced an extraordinary opponent in Alan. Skilled in both horse archery and close combat, he turned the supposed competition into his own personal showcase.
The cavalrymen, unable to land a single arrow or match him in melee, could only watch in dismay as the exhibition unfolded.
The event, expected to be a display of martial prowess, swiftly devolved into a demonstration of Alan's superior abilities. In less than two hours, the defining moment came when Alan expertly knocked Rem to the ground with three precise shots. The competition, which had started as a one-versus-fifty challenge, ended almost as soon as it began, with Alan emerging as the calm, expressionless victor.
The defeated, including a humiliated Rem, couldn't bear to meet the piercing gaze of Chief Logan, who looked on with barely concealed disdain. His question, cold and sharp, cut through the silence: "What do you think about this competition?" Yet, Rem and his comrades remained silent, heads bowed in defeat.
It was undeniable; Chief Instructor Alan excelled in both riding and archery, outmatching them in every regard. His nine years of partnership with his warg had fostered a deep, intuitive bond that none could rival, a stark contrast to the hesitant commands and sluggish responses of the other warriors to their mounts.
Chief Logan's disappointment was palpable as he surveyed the disheartened troops. "I had once thought our wolf cavalry possessed a certain prowess," he remarked coolly. "It appears I was mistaken." His gaze lingered on a warrior who had embarrassingly fallen from his mount while dodging an attack. "Over a month of training, and yet you cannot master the basics of riding?
And your archery," he continued, his voice rising with frustration, "I don't expect perfection, but missing the mark by such margins is unacceptable."
As he criticized their coordination with their wolves, the soldiers' faces turned even redder, their heads bowing lower under the weight of his words. Kro and Bagan, standing among the ranks, felt a growing sense of dismay. They had known their skills were lacking compared to Alan's, but the extent of their inadequacy, laid bare before the chief's critical eyes, was a bitter pill to swallow.
The litany of basic errors, errors that likely fueled the chief's ire; underscored a painful reality: they had vastly underestimated their own capabilities, and now, they faced the consequences of their underpreparedness in the harsh light of defeat.
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"Alan, you are very strong!" Chief Logan remarked, his tone veiling a simmering irritation as he offered a strained smile towards Alan.
"My lord, among the ranks of mercenary cavalry, I merely hold my own," Alan replied modestly, shaking his head. His humility was not unfounded, for he had witnessed the prowess of many who surpassed him.
"Nevertheless, I must levy criticism upon you. As the chief instructor, your primary duty is to elevate the capabilities of the wolf cavalry under your leadership. If you fail in this, can you truly hold your title?" Logan's tone shifted as he surveyed the disheartened wolf cavalry, his expression laden with concern.
The rapid expansion of their tribe was indeed a boon, but the strength of their army, the very backbone of their survival, could not be hastily constructed. Logan felt a growing frustration bubble within him. Aside from a handful of seasoned riders, many were novices, having joined the ranks less than six months prior.
These green riders, though numerous, lacked the seasoned edge of standard cavalry, and in a real confrontation with formidable foes, they might falter disastrously.
"Yes," Allen replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a subtle smile. "Three months."
Logan paused to consider the promise, then nodded approvingly. "I eagerly await the outcome, Allen. Do not disappoint."
Turning to the other commanders in the room, Logan sought their consent. "Commanders Kro and Lots, do you endorse Allen's appointment?"
Both commanders quickly voiced their agreement, eager to affirm their support. "Chief, we fully support Allen. He is undoubtedly the best choice to lead the wolf cavalry."
"Excellent," Logan nodded, satisfied. "And remember, support him fully in his endeavors."
The commanders nodded in unison, "Yes, Chief!"
Logan's gaze then turned stern. "And let's not neglect the infantry. They must intensify their training. I expect improvements, not disappointments."
"Understood, Chief!" Kro and Bagen responded promptly.
With the matters settled, Logan stood. "It's getting late. I shall take my leave now. Fenrir, let's go!"
As the mighty wolf Fenrir sprinted across the plains carrying Logan back to the tribe, Kro and Lots exhaled in relief, watching the chief disappear into the distance.
Upon reaching the village, Logan leapt from Fenrir's back and was immediately greeted by the joyful shouts of several young Beastmen children playing in the yard.
"Brother, you're back!"
Logan chuckled as his younger sister Ginny wrapped her tiny arms around his legs. Lifting her up, he playfully squeezed her cheek. "Ginny, where's mother?"
She giggled, pointing towards the house. "Mother's inside, cooking!"
The warm welcome filled Logan with a deep sense of home, his heart lightening as he stepped towards the family hearth.