Around the base of the hill, more than a thousand fully-armed Beastmen gathered in small groups, sharing a hearty meal. They were feasting on white bread, sweet potatoes, and potatoes, laughing and chatting as they filled the air with the sound of contentment. Despite being battle-ready, their faces beamed with joy, the atmosphere light and relaxed after a long march and two successful conquests.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed overhead, drawing the eyes of many skyward. From the distant horizon, a large, dark figure swooped down, wings beating rhythmically against the wind. The Thunderbird Air Cavalry had returned.
"Lord Kro! The Thunderbird scouts are back!" a Beastman officer stationed on the hill shouted, his voice echoing down to the bushes where a middle-aged figure stood up. It was Kro, the leader who had led the swift conquest of two nearby tribes. His powerful frame was tense with anticipation as he gazed up at the descending Thunderbird, the figure of a warrior dismounting gracefully.
Kro's warriors had traveled far and hard. Though the tribes they faced put up little resistance, the march had drained them, prompting this much-needed rest. But now, news had arrived, news that could change their course.
The Thunderbird Sky Cavalry circled above once more before landing on the open stretch of wasteland below the hill. One of the riders, a tall Beastman, dismounted and strode toward Kro, his face serious but respectful.
"Lord Kro," the rider said, bowing his head slightly, "less than five miles to the northwest lies the Kant tribe."
Kro's eyes widened for a moment in surprise. "Five miles, you say?" His voice, usually steady and calm, had a hint of excitement. His mind raced. The Kant tribe was much closer than he had anticipated.
He quickly gestured for one of his officers to bring out the map, hand-drawn on rough animal hide. As the map was spread before him, Kro studied it, his sharp eyes tracing the land features, confirming their position.
A slow, confident smile spread across his face as he turned back to the scout. "You've done well. Go, grab some food and rest. You've earned it."
The Beastman scout saluted smartly and trotted off toward the others, eager for a meal after his long flight.
Kro, however, turned back to his officers, the map still spread out before them. His gaze fell upon a boar-man officer, stout and brimming with battle-hardened experience. This was Gawa, commander of the boar warriors who had been attached to Kro's forces, three hundred strong and ready for war.
"Lord Kro," Gawa began, his voice deep and gravelly, "the Kant tribe has over 2,500 warriors. What's the plan? We were supposed to be targeting smaller tribes."
Kro's eyes flicked from Gawa to the other officers, all of whom were waiting expectantly. He knew what they were thinking. The original strategy was to focus on weaker tribes, tribes that posed little risk. But the Kant tribe, with its substantial force, was far from weak.
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"That's true," Kro acknowledged, his tone thoughtful. "But we are here now, and the Kant tribe is within reach. We have over a thousand Beastmen infantry and more than two hundred wolf cavalry under our command. I don't see why we can't take them on." A smile tugged at his lips as he added, "Besides, it's time we stopped playing it safe. Conquering Kant would prove our strength."
A ripple of agreement passed through the group. One of the Beastmen, a fierce warrior named Rem, chuckled.
What they didn't realize was that hidden in the tall, wild grasses bordering the wheat fields, two fully-armored Beastmen had dismounted from the thunderbird. They worked quickly and quietly, their eyes scanning the fields as they began piling up dry weeds along the edges of the crops, carefully hiding their actions from the prying eyes of the tribe.
The Beastmen worked in silence for about half an hour, placing piles of dry grass and kindling at strategic points where the wheat fields met the wasteland, their actions swift and practiced. As they finished their preparations, the two exchanged knowing glances, smirking at the havoc they were about to unleash.
One of them crouched down near a pile of dry weeds and pulled out a small flint. With a quick motion, he struck it, sending a spark into the kindling. As the wind caught the tiny flame, it grew and flickered to life, quickly spreading across the pile. The Beastman grinned as he tossed the now-burning heap into the wheat field.
His companion, stationed on the other side, followed suit, and within moments, two thick columns of black smoke began spiraling upward into the sky.
The Beastmen from the Kant tribe who had been tending to the wheat fields looked up and froze. Their faces drained of color as they saw the smoke rising from their precious crops. Panic set in almost instantly.
"Fire! The fields are burning!" one of them shouted, his voice breaking with desperation.
As one, they bolted toward the flames, their hearts pounding in terror. The fields were their lifeline, and in a season of famine, every stalk of wheat was crucial. But even as they ran, more fires began to ignite all along the edges of the wheat fields, spreading faster than they could reach them.
The wind picked up, as it often did in the dry wilderness, feeding the flames and carrying them farther into the fields. What had started as small, isolated fires now merged into a single, roaring inferno, and thick, black smoke rose into the sky like a dark omen.
Within the Kant tribe itself, the smoke was soon noticed. It was only a few miles from the heart of the village, and as the smoke columns darkened the sky, the alarm spread like wildfire.
"The wheat fields! They're burning!" came the frantic cries from all directions.
Chaos erupted as hundreds of Beastmen poured out of the tribe, carrying whatever tools or buckets they could find to try to battle the fire. Their faces were etched with fear and desperation. The wheat fields represented life, without them, the tribe would starve. The famine had already taken a heavy toll, and now, this fire threatened to push them over the edge.
While the lower-ranking members of the Kant tribe rushed to save their precious crops, the tribe's leaders were in an uproar. Furious and frantic, they barked orders and rallied more of the warriors to join the effort. But none of them realized the full extent of the threat that was closing in from the south.
While the fire raged to the north, a separate force of fully-armed Beastman warriors led by Kro was advancing swiftly from the south. Moving in disciplined ranks, they cut through the fields with grim determination. Their target was clear, the heart of the Kant tribe itself.
The wheat was not tall enough to fully conceal the advancing force, and as they moved closer, the size of the attacking army became impossible to ignore. Two miles from the center of the tribe, scouts from the Kant tribe finally spotted them.
"Enemy forces approaching from the south!" one of the scouts shouted, sprinting back to the village to sound the alarm.
The Kant tribe had barely begun to respond to the fires when the news hit like a hammer blow. Their worst fears were realized, this wasn't just a natural disaster. They were under attack, and the real battle was about to begin.