Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Logan's piercing gaze settled on Mamuti for a fleeting moment before shifting sharply to the other two figures beside him, their features rugged and wild, characteristic of beastmen in their prime.

"Which of you is Chief Kala or Chief Samo?" he demanded, his voice echoing with authority.

The elder of the two, his gray streaked fur bristling slightly, fell to his knees with a hastiness that betrayed his fear. "Noble Silvermane Chief, I am Lake, leader of the Kala. Please, I beg you, allow me to return to my people. I am prepared to offer whatever you ask," he pleaded, his voice trembling as he bowed his head low to the ground.

The second chief, a slightly younger beastman with anxious eyes, quickly followed suit. "I am Lasi of the Samo tribe," he declared, his voice cracking under the strain. "I too implore your mercy, Great Chief. Whatever the cost, I will pay it." Seeing his fellow chief prostrate before the mighty Silvermane stirred a desperate panic within him.

Meanwhile, Mamuti's heart raced with uncertainty; Logan's disinterest in him was a bad omen. His prior threats had fallen on deaf ears, clearly Logan knew him, or knew of him, which only added to his unease.

How could he possibly hope to leave Silvermane territory unscathed now?

Mamuti watched Logan intently, desperate for some hint of what might come, but the Silvermane chief seemed wholly unconcerned with him.

"At any cost?" Logan queried, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the two beastmen before him. His voice was cool, collected, almost mocking in its calmness. "You would promise anything, even in your abject desperation?"

"Yes...yes...anything," they stammered together, eager to latch onto any promise of survival.

Logan's expression remained unreadable as he delivered his terms. "The Silvermane Tribe has been lenient with both Kela and Sam tribes for years," he stated flatly. "Now, you will unify your people under the Silvermane banner if you wish to live."

The chiefs exchanged a look of disbelief. "Join the Silvermane Tribe?" one echoed in shock, his voice a mix of confusion and fear.

Mamuti's jaw clenched. This was more then a request; it was an ultimatum for their survival. Yet, even as his mind reeled at the implications of such a merger during times of scarcity, doubts plagued him. How could the Silvermane possibly sustain even more mouths to feed in these times of famine? Were they not also strained for resources?

Silence hung heavy as each beastman grappled with the gravity of their situation, the weight of their choices looming large under the cold gaze of Logan.

As Mamuti pondered their plight, he dismissed any notion of abundance amidst the wasteland. "How could they, amidst this desolation where even the large tribes and royal courts scrounge for food, find excess?" he thought, dismissing the idea outright.

"This is untenable. If our tribe ceases to exist, then what purpose do our lives serve?" Chief Kala, standing resolute, directed his question to Logan with a mix of defiance and desperation in his eyes.

"Is that so?" Logan replied, his voice dripping with feigned surprise, before adding coldly, "Then I shall 'assist' you."

"Seize him and execute him!" he commanded dismissively.

The command was swiftly followed by a brisk "Yes, sir!" from two beastman guards who promptly grabbed Chief kala. The chief, caught off guard, barely registered what was happening until he felt the firm grip of the guards dragging him away.

"Chief, please, I beg for mercy! I will yield, I will join your tribe..." Chief Kala's pleas erupted as he struggled, but the beastman guards were unyielding. They clamped down on his arms, their grip iron-tight, and began to drag him away.

His cries grew desperate "I am ready to surrender... Let me live..."—echoing down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Chief Samo, witnessing Chief kala's abrupt sentence, trembled violently, his face ashen. The mere suggestion of defiance had swiftly brought a death sentence upon Kala.

Watching the scene unfold, Mamuti's face hardened. Logan, the young chief with silver-streaked fur, was proving himself ruthlessly decisive.

Now, more than ever, Mamuti feared for his own fate.

"Cheif Samo, what of your offer?" Chief Samo stammered, the fear evident in his voice as he struggled to maintain his composure. "I...I am ready to lead my tribe to...to join the Silver Mane tribe."

"Very good," Logan responded, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. He then turned his gaze to where Chief Jiala was being hauled off and commanded the guards, "Bring him back!" His order carried a calm authority, pausing the execution in its tracks.

Revitalized by a sudden reprieve, Chief Kela sprang to his feet, his voice buoyant with relief. "Thank you, Chief, for sparing my life! I am ready to surrender. I will lead my tribe to join the Silver Mane Tribe..."

"Pathetic, he was so terrified he wet himself!" Reynolds sneered, casting a disdainful glance at the trembling chief. Chief Kala, freshly returned, faced ridicule as the others noticed a damp trail on the wooden floor, accompanied by the faint smell of urine lingering in the air.

Logan, ignoring the jibe, fixed his stern gaze on the chastened leaders. "Both of you, remember your promise to bring your people here tomorrow. And no tricks—if the tribes of Kala and Samo fail to comply, tomorrow will mark the anniversary of your demise next year," he warned with a cold precision.

"Yes, yes, of course, Chief! We will not deceive you," the two chiefs stammered, kneeling and trembling as they vowed obedience.

"That's wise. Show true allegiance, and your people, as well as your descendants, will prosper within the Silver Mane Tribe," Logan continued, his tone slightly softer but still imbued with authority.

"Take the two chiefs and ensure they're well accommodated," he instructed the guards.

The guards quickly escorted the two chiefs away, supporting the one whose legs had given out from fear.

Turning his attention to Mamuti, who had been silent so far, Logan shifted comfortably in his seat and asked pointedly, "And what about you? What value do you hold?"

The eyes of the assembled beastmen leaders turned towards Mamuti, heightening his anxiety.

"I... I am the son of Chief Duskin. I can have my father negotiate my ransom," Mamuti blurted out, hoping his lineage might offer him some leverage.

Logan smiled thinly, sensing an opportunity. "A ransom, you say? That's an interesting proposal. How much are you thinking to offer for your freedom?" His voice was smooth, teasing out Mamuti's desperation and calculating the potential gain from such a deal.

Mamuti was not just another captive; he was a strategic asset. Logan had deliberately spared him on the battlefield, recognizing the imprudence of killing such a valuable hostage—it could provoke the wrath of the powerful Duskin tribe.

Given Mamuti's status as a favored son of Chief Duskin, his death would surely incite retaliation. Thus, capturing Mamuti was about leveraging his value for a significant gain from his tribe.

"Five thousand catties of grain," Mamuti declared, stating his perceived worth.

"Mamuti, do you truly value yourself so modestly?" Logan asked with an amused smile.

Mamuti's anxiety spiked under Logan's amused scrutiny, and he hastily doubled his offer. "Ten thousand kilograms of grain?"

"Not nearly enough," Logan countered smoothly, extending five fingers dramatically. "How about fifty thousand kilograms? Surely, you are worth that to your father."

"Impossible, my father will never agree to such a sum!" Mamuti protested instantly. Fifty thousand catties of grain was unthinkable, especially during a famine when every grain was vital to the tribe's survival.

"Then it appears we are at an impasse. If you cannot secure that amount, I have no choice but to consider you a permanent addition to our Silver Mane tribe," Logan replied, his smile fading into a more serious expression.

As Logan gave a subtle nod, Bagan, one of his trusted men, started to rise.

"Wait! Please, allow me some time to write a letter. Have your spies deliver it to my mother," Mamuti blurted out in desperation, trying to stall for any reprieve.

Logan paused, eyeing Mamuti skeptically. "You believe your father won't provide fifty thousand Kg of grain, but your mother will find a way to deliver it to save you?"

"My mother... she will find a way. Just promise me time, and I assure you, she will gather the fifty thousand kilograms of grain needed for my release," Mamuti asserted, his voice a blend of hope and determination.

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