"There's definitely another level six warrior in the Adik tribe," Karl confirmed, his tone serious. "But that's not all. There's also this mysterious figure, another strong fighter, likely around the sixth or seventh level. Arar's son, Artom, mentioned him in passing. Apparently, this fighter sticks close to Arar, but even Artom doesn't know much about him. I get the feeling he's a special case. If he's truly at that level, he's probably no higher than seventh."
Logan nodded thoughtfully. "Got it."
The coalition may have been defeated, but Logan knew their work was far from finished. These tribes needed to be fully integrated into the Silver Mane Tribe's influence. Between the Adik tribe, the Qatar tribe, and their vassals, there were potentially 70,000 to 80,000 Beastmen that could either stand with them, or stand in their way. He had no intention of leaving such potential threats unchecked.
---
**The Next Morning**
In the meeting hall of the Silver Mane Tribe, Logan sat at the head, his posture exuding calm authority. The mood in the hall was jubilant; the tribe had celebrated their victory well into the night, feasting on drArtom rat, rabbit meat, fresh fish, and washing it down with tens of thousands of kilograms of liquor. The entire camp had been alive with song, laughter, and stories of bravery until the early hours.
Now, as morning light spilled through the hall, his war council gathered before him. Barnett, Begon, Reynolds, Kro, Lots, Allen, Gawa, and Astali, all of them wore expressions of satisfaction, the weight of victory clear in their relaxed smiles.
"Everyone looks pleased this morning," Logan remarked with a grin, eyeing his council.
At his words, the warriors exchanged glances and broke into hearty laughter. They had every reason to be happy, victory was sweet, especially one of this magnitude. They all knew that this triumph meant the Silver Mane Tribe would be the uncontested power within a 200-mile radius. It wasn't just a win; it was a statement. The Silver Mane Tribe was here to stay.
"How are the battle statistics looking?" Logan asked, bringing the council back to focus.
Kro, the army's commander, straightened up and nodded. "The statistics are ready, Chief," he replied, his expression shifting from joy to a somber seriousness.
The atmosphere in the hall shifted. The grins faded as everyone realized what was coming; the battle report. Celebrating victory was one thing, but the reality of casualties was another. Even in such a decisive win, lives had been lost, and this moment of reckoning sobered them all.
Logan's face turned solemn as he met Kro's gaze. After a moment's silence, he said, "Read it out."
Kro took a deep breath, pulling out a roll of animal skin from his space ring. With a steady voice, he began, "The Silver Mane Tribe deployed a total of 16,232 warriors."
He glanced up briefly but found only quiet determination in Logan's eyes.
He continued, "Of those, the wolf cavalry consisted of 2,245 wolf warriors. We lost 43 of them, 7 were severely injured, and 132 sustained minor injuries."
"Five hundred and sixty-four soldiers killed?" Logan's voice softened, the weight of the number sinking into him. He looked down for a moment, feeling the sting of the loss.
"Yes, Lord Chief," Kro replied, his tone somber. "And the toll may yet increase. Many of the seriously injured are barely holding on. Some might not survive."
This was, without a doubt, the largest and bloodiest battle the tribe had ever faced. And while they had claimed victory, the cost was steep, more than 600 killed, with over 900 seriously injured. Some would recover, but others would never be able to return to the frontlines, meaning that this battle had effectively cost the tribe over a thousand warriors. It was a significant blow, a loss that would be felt across every part of their growing society.
"Send word to Priest Luko and every available healer and pharmacist," Logan instructed, turning to his second uncle, Begon. "They must do everything they can for the seriously injured. As long as there's hope, we don't give up on anyone."
Begon nodded immediately, understanding the gravity in Logan's voice. "I'll see to it, Chief."
Logan let the silence hang for a moment, absorbing the full impact of the casualties. These weren't just numbers, they were lives, warriors with families, friends, and loved ones. But as he looked around the room, he could see the same weight hanging over everyone's shoulders. They were mourning, yes, but also troubled, fearing what this loss meant for the future.
With a deep breath, Logan broke the silence, lifting his head with renewed resolve. "We cannot dwell in this sorrow," he said, his voice stronger now, resonating through the hall. "The Silver Mane Tribe is on the path to greatness, and as we rise, we will face challenges, setbacks, and losses. This war was one of those challenges, and we conquered it. But there will be others. And if we want to stand strong, we must not fear the cost."
He looked each of his council members in the eye, instilling his determination in them. "This victory was possible because of every sacrifice, every ounce of courage. Our fallen warriors gave everything to make this future possible, but their sacrifice will not be in vain. We honor them by pushing forward. Our tribe will not be stopped until we achieve true strength, true stability."
Begon, Kro, and the others sat up straighter, the weight of their grief easing slightly as Logan's words settled in. They had witnessed the Silver Mane Tribe's incredible transformation in just a few months, and they knew that this was just the beginning of their journey. Logan's resolve rekindled their own; they understood the chief's vision and their role in it.
"Uncle Begon," Logan continued, turning to Begon, "I trust you with the arrangements for the fallen. Ensure that their families are taken care of."
"Yes, Chief," Begon replied, his tone respectful and serious.
The handling of the fallen soldiers' affairs was crucial. The tribe's shared distribution system meant that every adult member, as long as they were able-bodied, contributed to the tribe's work based on their abilities. In this system, the loss of a family member could throw a household into hardship. Logan wanted to prevent that.
Begon would ensure that the families of the fallen were recorded, and adjustments would be made so they were not burdened unfairly. If a family lost a primary breadwinner, their workload would be reduced. Logan also planned for future support, those who sacrificed for the tribe would not be forgotten.
In time, Logan intended to build on this foundation. He envisioned a Tribal College, an institution that would prioritize education for children, especially those from families who had lost loved ones in battle. While it wasn't yet feasible to offer this to every child in the tribe, he could start by opening the doors to the children of fallen warriors.
He also foresaw a future where the Silver Mane Tribe would grow powerful enough to offer financial or material support to these families, like the subsidies provided in the human kingdoms. It would take time, but he was committed to making it a reality.
"Let's continue, Kro," Logan said, his voice firm once more, bringing everyone's attention back to the commander.
The council's eyes turned toward Kro, each of them bracing themselves for the report on the enemy's casualties. They knew the coalition had been dealt a devastating blow, and hearing those numbers would only reinforce the magnitude of their victory.