"Hahaha... Arar, surrender! You've got no chance left!" Barnett's voice rang out over the battlefield, rich with the confidence of a warrior who knew victory was within his grasp. He wiped a streak of blood from the corner of his mouth, his gaze fixed on his longtime rival. "Look around you, Arar. Your so-called coalition is crumbling. Soon, it will be nothing but a memory!"
Barnett wasn't exaggerating. The Silver Mane Tribe had unleashed a force that the coalition had severely underestimated. Their ranks boasted an impressive number of fifth- and sixth-level warriors, while the coalition's own elite fighters were either dead, captured, or stripped of their strength. Panic rippled through the coalition's ordinary soldiers as they saw their leaders fall one by one. Dropping their weapons, they began to surrender in waves, knowing that resistance was futile.
Arar's expression shifted, his usual bravado giving way to something darker; fear. His mind raced as he looked around, realizing the scale of the disaster unfolding around him. Just as Barnett said, his coalition, his mighty force of 30,000 warriors, was collapsing under the relentless pressure from the Silver Mane Tribe. It was unfathomable.
"Damn it!" Arar spat, his face going pale as he took in the sight of his men surrendering. His tribe, the Adik tribe, had committed 4,000 warriors to this battle, a considerable part of its strength. A loss here would be catastrophic, not just for him but for everyone who relied on his leadership. If he didn't act quickly, his entire tribe would pay the price.
But one question haunted him as he surveyed the battlefield: how had the Silver Mane Tribe risen to such strength in such a short time? In mere months, they'd gathered an army of powerful warriors, seemingly endless cavalry, and weapons more deadly than anything he'd ever seen. How had they managed to turn the tide so completely?
The answer didn't matter, he realized bitterly. What mattered was survival. As chief, his duty was to preserve what remained of his tribe, even if it meant retreat. The Silver Mane Tribe had won today, but if he escaped, he could regroup, rebuild, and perhaps one day avenge this humiliation.
"Barnett," he called out, a sneer masking his desperation. "Don't get too comfortable. You were just lucky this time!" Without waiting for a response, Arar spun on his heel and sprinted toward the edge of the battlefield, determined to make his escape.
Barnett stared after him in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Arar, the proud, unyielding chief, was running away? A part of him wanted to give chase, but his wounds reminded him that he was in no shape for such a pursuit. Even if he'd been uninjured, stopping Arar alone would have been nearly impossible.
Just as Barnett was contemplating his next move, a shadow passed overhead. He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise and delight.
Logan had leaped into action.
With the speed and power of a predator, Logan closed the distance to Arar effortlessly. For a ninth-level warrior, catching a fleeing seventh-level opponent was child's play.
Arar sensed someone closing in on him, but before he could react, a fist; wrapped in a terrifying aura of fighting spirit, slammed into his face. The impact was instant and brutal.
BANG!
The blow sent Arar flying, his body flung through the air like a ragdoll before crashing to the ground dozens of meters away. He landed with a thud, rolling to a stop in the dirt, pain radiating through his entire body.
"Ahhh!" Arar cried out, his voice raw with agony. For a seventh-level warrior, he should have been able to withstand a hit, but Logan's power was on another level entirely. His arms were shattered, his face disfigured beyond recognition, and his spirit crushed.
As Logan approached him, Arar felt the weight of defeat settle on him fully. He was a warrior chief, a fighter who had always been feared and respected, and yet here he was, broken and humiliated in front of his enemies.
Karl took a deep breath. "I managed to slip away from the Adik tribe in the middle of the night. When I got back, I found the Silver Mane Tribe already fortified and ready for battle. I'm still not entirely sure how you knew about the coalition's movements in advance," he admitted, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "But I trust that there are things I don't need to know."
Logan nodded, satisfied with Karl's response. He valued loyalty and discretion, and Karl had both in spades. Changing the subject, Logan asked, "What's the current state of the Adik tribe?"
Karl paused, collecting his thoughts. "The Adik tribe is well-established. Food supplies are short, as with most tribes, but Arar's resources are strong. He frequently sends people to nearby merchant camps to buy provisions. For now, the tribe seems stable."
Logan narrowed his eyes. "If the Adik tribe is doing so well, why would Arar risk everything by forming this coalition?"
Karl shrugged. "From what I gathered, it might be due to the Silver Mane Tribe's rapid growth. Arar's ambitions are no secret. His son, Artom, even hinted at it. Arar has wanted to annex the smaller tribes in his region for a while now, but our sudden rise put a dent in his plans."
"So, he saw the Silver Mane Tribe as a threat and decided to rally the other tribes to crush us first," Logan muttered, the pieces falling into place in his mind. "Once we were out of the way, he could claim dominance over the southern wastelands unchallenged."
"Exactly," Karl confirmed. "Forming the coalition was his way of consolidating power, using it to eliminate us as a threat. But," he added with a smirk, "it seems he underestimated the Silver Mane Tribe."
Logan let out a low chuckle. "He did, indeed. If I were Arar, I would have secured the smaller tribes long before we grew strong. But luck wasn't on his side this time."
Karl inclined his head in agreement, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "The speed of the Silver Mane Tribe's rise has been incredible. I thought I knew what our tribe was capable of, but this battle... it showed me how powerful we've truly become."
Logan's gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Karl, how many sixth-level warriors does the Adik tribe have?"
Karl hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. "There might be... one or two more," he replied carefully.
"One or two?" Logan frowned, crossing his arms in irritation. "What does that mean, Karl? Either there's one or there are two. Be precise."
Karl scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "It's difficult to say, Chief. I only had limited access. Some of their higher-level warriors are elusive, they rarely show themselves unless absolutely necessary. I couldn't get a definitive count."
Logan's expression softened, realizing the difficulty of Karl's position. "Fair enough. You've done well, considering the circumstances. Knowing the level of their forces will help us prepare for any future threats."
Karl relaxed slightly, glad his chief understood the complexities he faced. "Thank you, Chief. I'll continue to gather whatever intelligence I can."
Logan gave him a firm nod. "Good. And remember; next time, be cautious. The Silver Mane Tribe can't afford to lose someone with your skills."
As the two parted ways, Logan looked around, absorbing the bustling energy of his people celebrating their victory. He couldn't shake the feeling that more challenges awaited, but for now, he allowed himself a moment to savor the triumph. The Silver Mane Tribe had risen, and they would continue to rise, no matter the obstacles ahead.