Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Logan stood on a raised vantage point, his gaze piercing through the misty dawn as he watched the wolf cavalry, a formidable sight, charge across the open plains with unbridled ferocity. The scene was a testament to the ancient and sacred bond between wolf beastman and their wargs, creatures renowned not just for their strength but also for their wisdom.

This bond, Logan knew, was rooted in mutual respect and loyalty; a beastman who treated his warg with kindness and understanding could expect a lifetime of unwavering partnership.

In the tribes of their kind, it was not uncommon for a warg to be passed down through generations, serving the son after the father's demise in battle or of old age. Such legacies were rare and cherished, as the lifespan of a warg far surpassed that of even the most formidable of the beastmen. A warg of the second tier could live for centuries, becoming a living legend within the community.

However, these bonds were not formed lightly. They were the result of years of shared trials and tribulations, often solidified in the crucible of life-and-death struggles. It was amidst these contemplations that Logan's attention was suddenly drawn to a wolf cavalry and another warg making a beeline for him.

"Lord Chief!" A strong, youthful beastwoman dismounted with agile grace and approached Logan, offering a salute that was both respectful and filled with a warrior's pride.

Logan, wearing a slight smile, inquired, "How fares the training, Cadia?"

Cadia, the captain of the Chief Guard and a figure whose stature had risen in tandem with Logan's ascension to chieftain, was a trusted confidant. Logan had vested the leadership of the wolf cavalry into Cadia's capable hands, trusting her over others for the role, despite whispers of power plays.

To Logan, it was imperative that such a critical force be under the stewardship of someone utterly loyal.

As Cadia prepared to report, a warg of notable size and presence sauntered over to Logan and seated itself comfortably by his side. This warg, was known as Fenrir, was no ordinary creature; it was a potential lifelong companion to the chief himself.

Understanding the unique status of Fenrir, Cadia had wisely refrained from assigning him to any knight, allowing him the freedom to roam the training fields.

Observing Fenrir's subdued demeanor, Logan couldn't help but address it, "You seem less than your usual spirited self, Fenrir." His hand found its way to Fenrir's massive head, offering comfort as he noted the creature's stalled progression at the third tier.

Logan understood all too well the unpredictable nature of growth within their world—a reality that demanded patience and resilience in equal measure.

Fenrir's attention remained steadfastly fixed on the distant spectacle of the wolf cavalry's training maneuvers, his interest plainly visible despite his silence. Logan, noticing the disconnect in Fenrir's attention, couldn't help but probe, "Feeling the pull of the training grounds, are we?" His curiosity piqued as he observed Fenrir's unwavering gaze. "Ah, I see that spark in your eyes.

You wish to join the fray yourself, don't you?" he surmised, a playful undertone coloring his words.

At Logan's inquiry, Fenrir turned, locking eyes with him for the first time, an unmistakable eagerness shining through. "Ah, so it is the thrill of the chase you seek. Very well, we shall have our bout," Logan declared, though his voice carried a note of friendly reprimand.

Fenrir rose, a gesture of readiness and anticipation. "Eager, aren't you?" Logan laughed as he affectionately patted Fenrir's sturdy back. "Patience, my friend. Duty calls me elsewhere at present, but your challenge will not go unanswered."

Disappointment briefly clouded Fenrir's demeanor as he resumed his seat, his brief spark of excitement dimming at Logan's postponement.

Cadia, observing this exchange from the sidelines, couldn't hide her astonishment. Fenrir's level of understanding and responsiveness was uncanny, almost mirroring human intelligence—a trait believed to be exclusive to legendary creatures.

Redirecting the conversation back to the matter at hand, Logan inquired, "And the training, Kadia? How progresses our cavalry?"

Cadia's response carried a note of optimism. "The First Cavalry is showing promising results. Leveraging the experience of our seasoned veterans to mentor the new recruits is proving effective. With intensified training, their combat readiness will soon be restored."

She continued, "The Second Cavalry, under Fenrir's indirect influence, has seen remarkable cooperation from the wargs. Their riding skills are advancing swiftly, despite the training's recent initiation. The true test, however, remains their combat capability."

Logan nodded, absorbing Cadia's report. The First Cavalry, a legacy of his father's era, had endured significant losses but remained a formidable force. The surviving wargs had facilitated the rapid integration of new werewolf warriors, bolstering their ranks to 136 members.

The Second Cavalry, meanwhile, was a strategic innovation. Comprising fifty-five members of his Chief Guard now retrained as wolf cavalry, these warriors rode wargs descended from Fenrir's lineage. This tactical shift was driven by a necessity to combat banditry without depleting the tribe's principal warriors.

Logan handpicked each of the fifty-five beastmen for the specialized task ahead, ensuring that every member was not just skilled but also immensely reliable and loyal. Their transformation into an elite wolf cavalry unit wasn't merely a tactical decision; it was a strategic move aimed at amplifying their combat effectiveness far beyond that of a traditional werewolf force.

With this core team, Logan envisioned not only the expansion of their ranks through the assimilation of rogues and smaller bands but also a rapid growth in strength and influence.

Considering the potential of this new force, Logan proposed, "What do you think about organizing combat simulations to gauge our readiness?" His suggestion, aimed at Cardia, sought to test the mettle of their units in a controlled environment.

Cardia, momentarily taken aback by the idea, hesitated, "Combat training, Chief? Isn't that a bit risky?" The concern was genuine, stemming from the dangers inherent in actual combat scenarios.

Logan, however, was quick to clarify, "I'm not suggesting we go sword to sword for real. Have we not the wit to make training weapons from wood? And set clear rules of engagement to minimize risk?" His frustration was evident, but so was his vision for a disciplined, battle-ready force.

Cardia's initial hesitation gave way to realization and then excitement. "Wooden swords, of course! A brilliant strategy, Chief!" She was already picturing the training sessions, their potential to hone the unit's combat skills without the peril of real battle.

Logan pressed on, "It's on you, as the military commander, to ensure our forces are battle-hardened and ready, with minimal losses when the real fights begin." His words carried a weight, an expectation of leadership and innovation from Cardia.

Though not versed in the intricacies of military strategy, Logan trusted in Cardia's ability to lead and adapt. Their discussion concluded, Logan mounted Fenrir, immersing himself in the rigors of riding training. Fenrir, thrilled by the shared activity, reveled in the exercise, displaying unwavering stamina.

As daylight waned and shadows lengthened, Crowe approached, his demeanor bright with an infectious joy. Logan, wearied yet content from the day's efforts, noticed Crowe's arrival and couldn't help but inquire, "Commander Crowe, what brings such lightness to your step today?" The query was casual, yet tinged with curiosity.

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