Barnett's eyes narrowed as he processed what his grandson had said. Slowly, he nodded, a serious expression settling on his face. "Understood. This secret stays with us," he said, his voice firm. He turned to Begon and Reynolds, his gaze sharpening. "You both heard what Logan said. No one else can know about this. Do you understand?"
"Yes, we understand!" Begon and Reynolds answered in unison, both nodding quickly, their faces somber.
Logan gave them a satisfied smile. Now that they were all on the same page, a heavy weight seemed to lift off his shoulders. Keeping this secret was crucial, not only for the safety of their tribe, but also to protect the identity and future of the Silver Mane Tribe. If word got out that he was more than just a prodigious young warrior, there could be too many complications, too many eyes on them. This unified silence would protect them; for now.
"Good," Logan said, his voice steady. "In the meantime, we can tell outsiders that it's the blessing of our ancestors or the spirits of warriors who died in battle. It's also the reason I built the Temple of Warriors."
Barnett, Begon, and Reynolds exchanged looks of agreement. "We got it," Barnett said, though his tone was thoughtful. The idea of spreading such a story wasn't far-fetched, it played into their tribe's long-standing respect for ancestral spirits and warriors.
Logan smiled, satisfied with their understanding. The wheels were in motion now, and with this matter settled, he shifted the conversation in another direction. "Grandpa," he began, his tone lighter, "you've broken through to level seven now. Do you want to do something with that power?"
Barnett raised an eyebrow. "Do something? What do you mean?"
Logan leaned forward, his smile widening. "You're not getting any younger, are you? Now that you've broken through to level seven, it would be a waste to live in seclusion, don't you think?"
Barnett stared at him, clearly puzzled. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Logan chuckled. "I'm saying, Grandpa, that you're the strongest person in the tribe after me. The Silver Mane Tribe needs strong leaders right now. As the founder, it's time for you to step forward and help guide the tribe to new heights."
Barnett's expression shifted instantly, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes. "You want to give me orders now, do you?" he asked, feigning a glare. "What exactly do you have in mind, young man?"
Logan raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Not orders, just suggestions. But think about it. The tribe needs you. You've reached level seven, and the Silver Mane Tribe needs strong leadership to ensure its rise. You can't just sit back and relax now, can you?"
Barnett narrowed his eyes, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. "I suppose I have become a little too comfortable in my old age," he mused, chuckling. "But you make a good point. As the founder, it's my responsibility to make sure this tribe flourishes. So, what do you suggest?"
Logan paused for a moment before replying. "What do you think is the foundation of a truly powerful force?"
Barnett thought for a while, tapping his chin. "Power? Strength?" he muttered, though it was clear he was still unsure about where his grandson was going with this.
Logan shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Yes... and no. Strength alone doesn't create a great tribe. A truly powerful force needs something more. And that 'something' is education."
Barnett stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Education? What do you mean by that?"
Barnett sighed, the weight of his years showing in his gaze. "You're right. These are significant problems," he conceded.
"But does that mean we should do nothing?" Logan pressed. His voice was filled with conviction. "We must build this academy, starting with the instructors we already have. Sure, it will be tough in the beginning, most things worth doing are. But if we persevere, adapt, and seek new solutions, I believe we'll succeed."
Seeing the spark of determination in Logan, Barnett softened, and the spark seemed to ignite something in him, too. Logan went on, his voice filled with excitement. "I've already sent scouts to recruit mercenaries from Canyon City and other nearby settlements. You must have noticed the fresh faces among the trainers arriving recently."
Barnett nodded. Logan' proactive approach impressed him, though he worried about the costs. But before he could raise that point, Logan continued.
"And if we can't find the right talent? We raise our offer. If ten gold coins won't do, then we'll offer a hundred, or a thousand. We will find who we need, no matter the cost. After all, what is money if it can't be used to strengthen our tribe?"
Barnett's face showed a flicker of pride. Logan' vision went far beyond what he'd imagined for the tribe's future. The young orc was already thinking ahead, and he wasn't finished yet.
"In addition, by the standards of the werewolf tribes, we will require all children; boys and girls, to enter the academy by age four, regardless of their initial abilities. The academy will have two main divisions: one for developing warriors and another for nurturing mages. For those who aren't suited to combat, we'll still equip them with valuable skills; craftsmanship, shipbuilding, blacksmithing. Even if they end up in mining or farming, every child will leave the academy capable of contributing to our tribe."
Barnett exchanged glances with the others gathered there, each of them visibly taken aback by Logan' bold plans. It wasn't just an academy Logan was proposing; it was a comprehensive future for every young life in the tribe.
Logan turned to face Barnett and the others fully, his gaze steady. "An academy has been needed for a long time. At first, I thought our youth army would suffice, that they'd buy us time before establishing something like this. But my own strength grew too quickly, and the Warrior Temple started granting our tribe ancient techniques. If we have access to such power, shouldn't we ensure those with the most talent can master it from a young age?"
He took a breath, gathering his thoughts. "In truth, we need to identify the next generation of talented warriors and mages. And if we don't, our growth as a tribe may outpace our leadership's ability to keep up. The Silver Mane Tribe could become unbalanced, with some advancing rapidly while others lag behind. That isn't a future I want for us."
Barnett listened, realizing that Logan' concern was deeper than he'd realized. "I see now. You're right to be cautious," he murmured thoughtfully.
"And the sooner we establish this academy, the sooner we'll see the benefits," Logan continued. "An entire generation must grow and learn, and every year we delay is a year of potential wasted."
"And what about instructors?" Barnett interjected, still wary. "They don't just fall from the sky, Logan."
"That's true," Logan replied with a confident smile. "But I have my ways. If it means spending my last coin, then so be it. We will find those instructors, even if I have to empty the treasury."
He paused, letting his words sink in. Then, looking at Barnett with a gleam in his eye, he asked, "Grandpa, would you be willing to serve as the dean of this new academy? Will you help me build this dream?"
Barnett's expression softened, a surge of pride welling up within him. He placed a hand on Logan' shoulder and spoke in a deep, steady voice. "Needless to say, Logan, I'll be the dean. Together, we'll make this academy a reality for our tribe."
The others watched in quiet awe, knowing they were witnessing the dawn of a new era for the Silver Mane Tribe.