Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Smiling slightly, he posed a question to gauge their readiness. "Grandpa, Uncle Begon, in your view, what would be necessary for our tribe to successfully annex an additional 20,000 tribesmen within the next six months?"

Before Barnett or Begon could respond, Reynolds, who had been quietly observing the discussion, interjected with a single word: "Food!"

Logan turned to his Uncle Reynolds, noting the transformation in him that his second uncle had often mentioned. Once arrogant and flamboyant, Reynolds had become unassuming and diligent, a stark contrast to his earlier self, yet still undeniably astute.

"If Uncle Reynolds sees food as crucial, what about you, Grandpa, Uncle Begon?" Logan asked, maintaining his amiable demeanor.

Begon remained silent, his earlier objections rooted deeply in concerns about food. "The reality is, without self-sufficiency in food, not only is it risky to support an additional 20,000 people, but even our current members could face dire consequences."

Barnett nodded in agreement. "Indeed, the crux of the matter is food."

Seizing the moment to challenge their reservations, Logan pressed on, his expression turning earnest. "If, hypothetically, we were assured of enough food, would you then support my plan for expansion?"

Both Begon and Barnett exchanged a look of mild astonishment, pondering the feasibility of such a scenario. Eventually, they both nodded, albeit tentatively, unable to dismiss the possibility entirely.

They had to concede that the crux of their hesitation indeed revolved around food security. As long as they could ensure adequate provisions for over 20,000 people, managing such a population would be feasible.

"Very good!" Logan responded with a nod, sensing the shift in their concerns.

"Let me clarify, my proposal to expand our tribe to over 20,000 isn't a mere flight of fancy. I have a solid plan, and I'm quite confident in our ability to sustain this growth."

His confidence seemed almost palpable. Yet, doubts lingered.

Begon harbored a bittersweet smile internally. His nephew, though showing signs of a promising leader, often underestimated the complexity of such undertakings. But he knew better than to underestimate Logan' potential for surprising them.

Unaware of his uncle's silent reservations, Logan casually picked up his flagon with one hand and a piece of maltose with the other. "Do you know where this wine and candy come from?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

The question momentarily stunned Barnett, Begon, and Reynolds. Wasn't it bought from the market? They thought, but Barnett's intuition suggested something deeper at play.

"I made this wine and sugar!" Logan revealed, his voice filled with a mix of pride and determination.

The revelation was strategically timed, not just a trivial boast but a crucial piece of his argument to demonstrate the feasibility of his ambitious plan.

"What do you mean, lad? Have you become a winemaker?" Barnett asked, his curiosity piqued. The value of skilled winemakers was well known to him.

Both Begon and Reynolds looked at Logan with newfound interest. The role of a winemaker was respected, given their craft's significance in trade and sustenance.

Your nephew, a winemaker? They found it hard to believe. Logan had never ventured far from the tribe, and no one within their community was known for such a skill. How could he have learned to craft wine?

"That's right," Logan confirmed, "I brewed this wine myself!"

Then Logan launched into a detailed explanation of his recent ventures in Canyon City.

"I've calculated the profits: from 10,000 kilograms of liquor, we can make four to five hundred gold coins," he began, laying out the figures with precision.

"And if all goes according to plan, we could significantly increase production next month. I'm projecting profits could surge to between one thousand and ten thousand gold coins monthly."

He continued, enthusiasm building with each word, "Including the profit from candy bars, we could be looking at tens of thousands of gold coins each month."

"Imagine that! With such income, feeding over 20,000 tribesmen wouldn't just be feasible; it would be trivial, even if we were to accumulate 100,000 gold coins."

Barnett was astounded. In nearly eighty years of life and countless adventures, he had never been so taken aback.

Both Begon and Reynolds shared his astonishment, their faces a mirror of disbelief.

"So, this bag of candy bars might be worth dozens of silver coins?" Reynolds inquired, eyeing the candy with a new perspective as he fiddled with the bag.

"Exactly, five pounds for fifty silver coins," Logan confirmed proudly.

"That's incredibly costly!" Reynolds exclaimed. "A single bite equates to losing dozens of kilograms of rye!"

Hearing his brother's exclamation, Begon was stunned into silence. He knew the economics well: a pound of rye fetched twelve or thirteen copper coins, while sugar was ten silver coins per pound. By the numbers, one pound of sugar was equivalent to about eighty pounds of rye.

"A mouthful costing as much as dozens of kilograms of rye? That's remarkably expensive!" Begon echoed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Barnett, overwhelmed by the revelation, managed a wry smile. "You always manage to surprise us, boy. Why haven't you shared this news sooner?"

Logan shrugged, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Discussing such matters broadly isn't wise. Better to make our fortune quietly."

"Absolutely," Barnett agreed, his expression turning stern. He looked at Begon and Reynolds decisively. "And you two, keep this under wraps. This stays within the family, understood?"

Both nodded in agreement, "Yes!" they responded in unison, recognizing the gravity of the secrecy needed.

Because Logan highlighted the lucrative potential of brewing and sugar production, two ventures known for their steady generation of wealth, it was only logical that his six-month expansion plan garnered the support of the family.

"Could this bolster the tribe's strength?" one might ask. Indeed, who wouldn't desire such empowerment?

Ultimately, the tribe's primary concern was a lack of sufficient food. Logan reassured them, "With enough provisions, we can easily handle any other challenges."

With this assurance, he proceeded to outline more specific strategies for expansion.

As dusk enveloped the land, the Silver Mane family gathered for a vibrant bonfire celebration in the courtyard. Flames danced in the center as hundreds of tribe members formed a large circle around it, basking in the warmth and camaraderie. They shared wine and hearty meals, their laughter mingling with the crackling of the fire.

Tonight, all eyes were on Logan, he was undeniably the star of the evening.

...

Far to the north, hundreds of kilometers from the festive lights of the Silver Mane tribe, a magnificent manticore soared high above the landscape. Logan, gripping the waist of his companion Jean, surveyed the terrain below. "Let's head back," he suggested.

"But just ahead lies the Black Wind Mountain Range, home to formidable creatures," Jean replied, hinting at the dangers as he considered turning their manticore mount, Airlan, around.

This particular beast, a mighty sixth-level manticore, had been a faithful companion throughout their travels.

It had been over two weeks since Logan's return to the tribe. During this time, the Silver Mane had embarked on a wide-scale mission to locate refugees. In just a fortnight, they discovered nearly 3,600 orcs spread across the vast lands surrounding their home, mostly wolf beastman, with a scattering of other beastman kin.

Yet, for all their success, Logan felt a pang of sorrow. The landscape bore the scars of conflict, thousands of bones littered the earth, a grim testament to the battles fought. Near the Black Wind Mountains, he had witnessed countless low-level monsters scavenging on the remains, many of which fell by his hand.

"Return now? Are we done searching? We could scout along the mountain ridges!" Jean proposed eagerly, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and excitement at the prospect of extending their adventure.

For her, a girl who had spent her entire life nestled in the heart of Canyon City, the colossal Black Cloud Mountain Range seemed to stretch for thousands of kilometers. The towering peaks that loomed before her, piercing the sky with their majestic summits, were merely a minor offshoot of this immense geological wonder.

Amid her awe, she couldn't help but marvel at the vastness of the world beyond her familiar confines.

"Forget it, the distance is simply too vast," Logan said, shaking his head dismissively. "Even if there are refugees out there, our tribe's search teams would never manage to bring them back. We'd only end up drawing the unwanted attention of the larger tribes."

He explained that his searches were deliberately confined to a hundred-mile radius around their tribe's territory because, beyond this boundary, the land was dominated by formidable tribes. These tribes had settled strategically near rivers in the northwest, west, south, and northeast of the southern wilderness, thriving in regions abundant with water and fertile grasslands.

In the southeast, where the Silver Mane Tribe resided, there were only smaller tribes, mere tens of thousands in number. In Logan's eyes, these were insignificant threats.

"The Silvermane tribe, however, is not to be trifled with at this time," he added thoughtfully.

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