In the barren wasteland, less than ten miles from the Silver Mane Tribe's defensive line, a formidable force was on the move. More than 30,000 werewolf warriors marched in unison, their collective might creating a rumble that echoed across the arid landscape.
Unbeknownst to them, several thunderbirds circled overhead, their keen eyes scanning the ground for signs of movement.
At the forefront of the coalition, two of the most powerful tribal chiefs, Arar and Lero, shared a light-hearted conversation, their laughter cutting through the tension in the air. It was only natural that, as the commanding leaders of this alliance, they would share both the burdens and the triumphs of their impending battle.
Suddenly, a dozen wolf cavalrymen burst into view, galloping towards them with urgency. The atmosphere shifted instantly as the tribal chiefs turned their attention to the approaching scouts.
"What news do you bring?" Arar called out, his voice steady despite the rising tension.
The leader of the wolf cavalry dismounted swiftly and saluted respectfully. "Chief Arar, we've confirmed that the Silver Mane Tribe has dispatched over 10,000 warriors to the front. They seem poised to intercept our advance!"
"Intercept us?" Arar frowned, his brow furrowing with concern.
The other tribal chiefs exchanged glances, surprise etched on their faces. Lero, the chieftain of the Qatar tribe, raised an eyebrow. "If they're preparing to stop us, then it seems the Silver Mane Tribe is aware of our alliance."
"It's not surprising," Arar replied with a resigned shake of his head. "All tribes were mobilized yesterday; word travels fast among the Beastmen."
Lero turned to the scout leader, his expression serious. "Are you certain there are only 10,000 warriors?"
"Yes, Chief. That's the number we verified," the scout replied, his tone unwavering.
"Could there be an ambush lurking nearby?" Lero asked, glancing at Arar for reassurance.
"Even if there is an ambush, what does it matter? We have over 30,000 warriors at our disposal. Even if the Silver Mane Tribe pulls every last warrior, they're unlikely to match our numbers," Arar responded, his confidence radiating.
"In that case, let's proceed with full force. In the face of such overwhelming strength, what good is an ambush?" Lero asserted, his eyes gleaming with determination.
How strong could a tribe possibly become in just a few months? Lero was dismissive of the Silver Mane Tribe's capabilities. After all, even if they did muster more warriors, how many would truly be willing to fight for them?
With their minds made up, the coalition forces quickened their pace. The distance to the Silver Mane Tribe's defenses dwindled rapidly. In a mere ten minutes, the entire coalition found themselves facing the impressive defensive line of the Silver Mane Tribe, now less than two miles apart.
He was a cautious leader, yes, but he was also a man of action when pushed to the edge.
"Attack!" Arar echoed, his command a clarion call that rang out across the battlefield.
The tribal chiefs, energized by his words, relayed the order down the line.
"Attack!!!"
The battle cry erupted from Arar and Lero, powerful warriors whose voices carried the weight of their resolve. Their roar ignited the spirits of the werewolf warriors, a surge of energy that reverberated across the coalition.
Even the Silver Mane Tribe heard the rallying cry, their defenses bracing for the impending clash.
"Are they really going to attack?" Logan asked, his expression shifting from surprise to seriousness. He turned to his trusted officers, Kro and Lots, urgency evident in his voice. "Prepare for battle immediately! We need to let them close in to within 300 meters!"
"Yes, Chief!" the Beastmen officers responded in unison, moving quickly to their designated positions along the defense line.
The air buzzed with the fervor of the 30,000-strong coalition, their charge resounding like thunder as the ground trembled beneath their feet. A wolf cavalryman burst forth from the ranks, and soon thousands of riders formed an impressive wall of fur and fury, like a living arrow hurtling toward the Silver Mane Tribe's defenses.
Logan watched, unfazed by the spectacle of the cavalry charging toward them. After all, with so many tribes united, it was no surprise they could muster such a force. However, he remained unaware that two powerful cavalry units were flanking the coalition from the north and south, ready to strike.
"The wolf cavalry is impressively swift!" he mused, a faint smile crossing his face as he observed their aggressive advance. They were driven by tales of endless food that awaited them if they could vanquish the Silver Mane Tribe. It was a powerful motivation; one that fueled their ferocity.
"Launch the attack!" Logan commanded, his voice steady and commanding.
With that, the air was pierced by the whir of crossbows being readied. Beastmen soldiers sprang into action, and bolts thicker than a man's thumb flew from their positions, aimed directly at the oncoming riders.
"Ah!!!"
"Help!!!"
The sound of agony filled the air as the first wave of unsuspecting wolf cavalry was struck. Crossbow bolts pierced through the ranks, their immense force knocking riders from their mounts and sending them crashing to the ground. In a shocking display of strength, bolts even strung two or three warriors together, the deadly projectiles wreaking havoc on the coalition's advance.
Logan surveyed the scene, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He knew this battle would not be easily won.