Reborn As A Beastman With A System

All at once, the gathered beastmen of various ethnicities fell into a somber silence, their expressions a mix of grief and solemnity.

"Only yesterday, many of us were left mourning the loss of family members," one of the elders began, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"Indeed, this conflict should never have escalated to war," Logan added, his tone tinged with regret and frustration. "It was the Duskin tribe's ambition that sparked this catastrophe. They aimed to overpower our Silver Mane people and annex our lands. To achieve their goals, they manipulated the four chieftains, forging a dubious alliance to wage war against us."

The air thickened with tension as he continued, "This reckless ambition led to a tragic loss of life. Many in our tribe have suffered the heartbreak of losing loved ones, I, too, have lost friends I grew up with." His voice dropped to a whisper, resonating with the pain of his personal loss.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as the name 'Duskin tribe' echoed with a venomous undertone.

One of the tribeman, observing from the side, offered a wry smile. "While it's true that the coalition was orchestrated by Duskin, let's not overlook the actions of our own Silver Mane. Our tribe has been quietly eyeing these smaller tribes, quickly subjugating them under our rule."

Logan, however, pointedly laid all blame at the Duskin feet, embodying the political flear that often came with leadership.

"The chiefs and leaders among us might remain indifferent," Tyton observing this mused to himself, "For them, distorting the truth is merely part of leading. As long as it serves the tribe, the ends justify the means."

Breaking the contemplative silence, Logan gestured towards the towering structures surrounding them. "You might wonder about these nine large firewood piles around us," he said calmly, drawing everyone's gaze.

The crowd's eyes shifted, their confusion evident as they regarded the massive piles.

"These are not mere woodpiles," Logan revealed, a somber note in his voice. "They hold the bodies of one hundred and two warriors, our fallen brothers and sisters."

The revelation struck a chord, leaving the crowd in stunned silence, their earlier speculations giving way to a poignant reality.

Begon and the others leaned in, their attention sharpened. They were skeptical that the bodies of fallen soldiers were brought back solely for a pyre.

"Among these one hundred and twenty warrior corpses," Logan began, his voice echoing solemnly, "sixty-seven are valiant warriors from our own Silver Mane Tribe who fell in battle. The remaining fifty-three are from the Youwa Tribe. Though not originally of our blood, they too died under our banner, fighting courageously for our cause. It was my duty to ensure their return."

"I firmly believe that everyone's final journey should be to return home," he continued, his gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd.

"These brave souls left us as living warriors and now return as honored dead. They fell defending our lands, unable to make the journey home by themselves. As their chieftain, it is my responsibility to bring them back to the land they so fiercely protected," Logan declared, his voice resonating with a fierce conviction.

"And so they shall rest on the very soil they defended, allowing their spirits to continue their vigil, guarding our land even in death. This is my solemn promise to every warrior loyal to our tribe and to me."

The impact of his words was palpable, especially among the beastmen soldiers maintaining order and those mingled anonymously within the crowd. Their eyes were fixed on Logan, visibly moved by his pledge.

"If this is the commitment of our chieftain, of our tribe," one could almost hear their thoughts, "then what regret could there be in giving our all, in pledging our lives to such a leader?"

Under the shroud of night, a subtle shift occurred among the beastmen of the Silver Mane Tribe. Their loyalty deepened, their respect for their young chieftain solidifying further.

"Is a person's ultimate destination indeed to return home?" Tyton pondered silently, watching Logan. Though he recognized the strategic leadership in the young chieftain's words, he couldn't help but admire the powerful impact Logan wielded over the crowd.

All around, the atmosphere deeply stirred the beastmen warriors, their emotions heightened by the powerful words and solemn air that Logan crafted.

"Is the true homecoming not the journey's end?" Logan's voice rang out again, silencing the clamorous battlefield as all eyes returned to him. Among the crowd, some gazes shone with devout reverence. The beastmen warriors tasked with maintaining order shifted their stances, their faces marked by loyalty as they aligned themselves as protectors around their leader.

"I have heard an ancient legend," Logan continued, his voice carrying across the silent masses, "that if the bodies of fallen warriors are consumed by fire, their spirits will forever guard their tribe and their land."

"While it remains a legend, it mirrors my hope, and I believe it resonates with yours too. That's why I ordered the construction of nine towering pyres. Through these flames, our warriors will continue to watch over our lands, our people, and their families."

"Furthermore," he declared with a resolve that resonated deeply within the crowd, "to honor those who have fallen in defense of our tribe, I will erect a sanctuary known as the Warrior Temple. The names of all who die in service to our tribe will be inscribed within its walls. This temple will be revered by all our people."

A vigorous cheer erupted among the beastmen. The idea of the Warrior Temple being venerated by the entire clan brought a profound sense of honor to the grieving families. Tears mingled with cries of joy, as the legacy of their loved ones promised eternal recognition.

"Light the fire!" Logan commanded.

"Yes!" came the unified response from the beastmen assigned to the pyres.

With reverent precision, the nine pyres were lit, flames soaring into the sky as if fueled by resin, casting a blazing glow over the assembled crowd. The fires blazed fiercely, consuming the wood in a spectacle of light and warmth, burning for nearly two hours before finally settling into glowing beds of embers.

This sacred act not only marked a ritual of remembrance but also a communal vow of enduring guardianship and honor.

Corvinus and all the beastmen of the Silvermane tribe did not conclude their ceremonial gathering by the fireside until every last ember had been extinguished. By then, the darkness of late night had settled over them.

Yet, for the beastmen of the Silver mane, this was destined to be their deepest and most tranquil night of rest in recent memory.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and swiftly three days had elapsed.

Word of the obliteration of four tribes and the significant defeat of the Duskin tribe at the hands of the Silver mane tribe spread like wildfire across the barren lands. This news caused considerable unrest among the smaller tribes within a hundred miles of Silver mane territory.

Faced with this volatile atmosphere, Corvinus was acutely aware that the Silvermane tribe could not afford to be seen as aggressors so he asked his men to guide the rumors.

Therefore, it wasn't long before rumors began to circulate, painting the Duskin tribe as the true aggressors, eager to annex others to consolidate their power. Meanwhile, the Silvermane tribe was depicted as having barely survived an onslaught by the Duskin tribe, suffering enormous losses in the process.

The narrative being spun was clear: the Silvermane tribe was in a dire state, while the Duskin tribe was ambitious and untrustworthy.

Despite the turmoil, the Silvermane tribe enjoyed a period of relative peace. The influx of over 1,700 beastmen from the conquered tribes brought with them a surge in labor, which helped to cultivate new lands and slightly increased the population in the livestock pens.

However, with the increased labor force also came the necessity to construct more housing for the new tribe members who were without homes.

Even though this tightened the availability of labor once more, the construction of the Warrior Temple pressed on. Corvinus's uncle had allocated substantial manpower to this project. Originally, Corvinus had hoped to use this opportunity to erect a Professional Temple instead, which would attract many skilled individuals to the tribe. But he eventually abandoned this idea, as not to attract envy.

Given their current position, the Silvermane tribe could not risk drawing too much attention or envy from neighboring tribes.

Thus, Corvinus focused on completing the Warrior Temple, providing designs that incorporated elements from several of the world's most renowned temples. His strategic decision aimed to strengthen the tribe subtly, without sparking unnecessary conflict.

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