Future General!

Logan, the chief of the Silver Mane tribe, cast an approving glance at Tyton, his voice brimming with optimism. "Tyton, with your help, the Silver Mane tribe stands a greater chance this time. Your skills are indispensable."

Tyton met his gaze with a firm resolve. "My lord, the Youwa Tribe no longer exists. Now, we are all Silver Mane. It's our duty to contribute to the prosperity of our tribe."

As Tyton spoke, he knew this union was more than a merger of tribes; it was a chance for him to carve out a new standing amongst the ranks of the Silver Mane.

Chief Logan laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with cunning. "Indeed, you are one of us now, striving for our collective success." He paused, his smile deepening as he planned his next move. "I've heard from Commander Crowe about your exceptional strategic mind and leadership skills. It appears we have a prodigious general among us."

Tyton bowed his head slightly, his eyes flicking to Crowe, who stood nearby. "Thank you, Commander Crowe, for your kind words. I am merely trying to apply my modest insights for the betterment of our tribe." He shared a grateful glance with Crowe, acknowledging their growing camaraderie.

Crowe returned the nod, his expression one of respect. Though he mentored another, Karl, Crow's appreciation for talent like Tyton's was evident.

Logan's voice brought Tyton back to the moment. "Your humility is admirable, but remember, we value and need talent here in our tribe."

The chief's expression then turned contemplative. "However, a pressing issue troubles me. I'm curious if you might have a solution."

"Please, speak your mind, chief," Tyton urged, a hint of nerves in his tone. Was this a test?

Logan leaned forward, lowering his voice. "The battle is won, yet the challenge remains: how do we swiftly integrate the four factions? Have you thoughts on this?"

Stunned by the weight of the question, Tyton paused, reflecting deeply.

Logan watched him, intrigued. Though plans were already in motion for one faction, he was keen to gauge Tyton's strategic prowess.

Breaking his silence with careful words, Tyton began, "Chief, regarding the Youwa tribe, my father and I have agreed that they will join us at dawn tomorrow. This is only the beginning of our integration strategy."

Tyton considered his words carefully, aware of their weight. "For the other three tribes, the quickest method would indeed be to dispatch troops and enforce relocation. However, while their forces have been weakened, we would certainly face stiff resistance," he explained.

Logan nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed in thought. "Yes, forced relocation always brings conflict. These tribes forces, though diminished, are not devoid of warriors willing to fight."

Tyton continued, eager to demonstrate his strategic acumen. "However, we currently hold the chiefs of the Samo and Kala tribes. If we can persuade them to surrender willingly, the annexation of both the Sam and Kewen tribes should proceed without significant obstacles."

"As for the Black Road tribe," Tyton paused, ensuring he had Logan's full attention. "If their chief, Heilu, has retreated there, I recommend we deploy a substantial force immediately. Delay could allow them to seek refuge with the Duskin tribe."

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "My sources suggest that the Black Dermis tribe may have already pledged allegiance to Duskin in secret." Tyton glanced at Logan, trying to gauge his reaction.

Logan's face lit up with a mix of surprise and approval. "Indeed, Commander Crowe was right about you. You possess the foresight of a true general." He was impressed, particularly since he hadn't considered the possibility of the Black Road tribe's secret alliance.

Logan's strategic mind churned. He would not allow his hard-won gains to escape. "Cardia!" he barked suddenly.

Cardia jerked awake from her near-slumber at the table, instantly alert. "I am here, my lord!" She stood briskly, saluting with military precision.

"Take the wolf cavalry and secure the Black Road tribe immediately. Bring them back under our control," Logan commanded, his tone resolute.

Cardia's eyes sparkled with excitement, her spirit lifted by the prospect of action. "Yes, my lord!" Her heart raced at the thought of thundering across the plains on his wolf mount, far preferable to the confines of strategy meetings.

Logan's voice turned cold, his order final. "And Cardia, if the Black Dermis tribe resists, show no mercy. If necessary, obliterate them completely. They must not align with Duskin."

Cardia nodded, understanding the gravity of her mission. She turned on her heel, ready to execute the command with lethal precision.

"If I cannot have the cake, then let it be destroyed," Logan declared grimly.

A chilling silence followed, felt deeply by Tyton and the others as the weight of Logan's readiness to annihilate the Black Dermis tribe settled in the air. Tyton shuddered inwardly, contemplating the fate that might have befallen the Youwa tribe had they not surrendered willingly.

Resigned to their new allegiance, Tyton reflected, "We are Silvermane now."

Logan's gaze then shifted to Tyton, a sharp gleam in his eye. "Tyton, accompany Cardia. Your insights might prove valuable on this mission."

Stunned by the sudden command, Tyton momentarily hesitated, but duty called, and he could not deny his chief. "Yes, my lord," he responded, quickly masking his surprise with obedience.

Together, Tyton and Cardia exited the council chamber, their steps echoing with the gravity of their task.

"Crowe!" Logan's voice snapped, drawing the attention of the pensive commander.

Jerking back to the present, Crowe stood up and saluted. "I am here, my lord."

"What preoccupies your thoughts?" Logan probed, noting Crowe's distant demeanor.

"Nothing of concern, my lord," Crowe replied hastily, shaking off his reverie.

Lotts, standing nearby, couldn't suppress a knowing smirk. Having worked closely with Crowe for years, he recognized the chief's strategy in pairing Tyton with Cardia, a clear move to integrate Tyton further into the chief's inner circle.

"If there's nothing else, bring the three chief here," Logan ordered dismissively.

"Immediately, my lord," Crow responded, snapping to action. He exited the hall to fulfill the command.

About ten minutes later, the heavy doors of the conference hall swung open as Crowe reentered, this time accompanied by six imposing werewolf soldiers escorting three shackled werewolves.

"Master Chief, as requested," Crowe announced, resuming his seat, the clanking of chains filling the room as the prisoners were presented before Logan.

"Kneel down!" Logan's command echoed sharply through the stone-walled chamber.

Mamuti hesitated, casting a skeptical glance at the young leader of the Silvermane Tribe. 'Is this mere boy truly the chief?' Yet before he could act on his own, the guards briskly kicked the back of the prisoners' legs, forcing Mamuti and his companions to their knees with a harsh thud.

Maintaining a strained smile, Mamuti looked up defiantly. "So, you are Logan, the new chief of the Silver Mane? Quite young to hold such power, aren't you?" Despite his precarious position, his tone carried a mocking politeness.

Logan simply nodded, his expression unreadable. "That's correct."

Gazing at Mamuti, Logan felt a surge of distrust; the beastman's demeanor radiated deceit. Mamuti continued, his smile unwavering, "I am the young chief of the Duskin tribe. Release me, and we can coexist without conflict. Refuse, and my father will undoubtedly send his forces. Your tribe, as it stands, would not withstand such an assault."

"Really?" Logan replied, his tone laced with irony. "Perhaps you'd like to send a message to your father, then? Request his armies to come rescue you?"

Mamuti's confident grin faltered, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "Do you truly wish to ignite a war between us?"

"War? You overestimate your position," Logan retorted coolly, a slight smile playing at his lips.

He knew well the capabilities of the Duskin tribe, a strong force of nearly five thousand warriors. In times of peace, they were a threat not to be taken lightly. However, these were not peaceful times. Logan had reliable intelligence that the recent royal court summons had significantly weakened them, as larger tribes bore the brunt of military levies.

Moreover, in this time of famine, even a tribe as strong as Duskin would hesitate before committing to a costly war. They, too, faced the watchful eyes of neighboring tribes, hungry for any sign of weakness to exploit, particularly their food reserves.

Logan's smile widened as he addressed Mamuti, "Your threats hold no substance. You're bluffing, and poorly at that." He understood that if Duskin dared to mobilize, they would expose themselves to attacks from all sides, a risk too great even for them.

Mamuti, now visibly unnerved, realized his ploy had been seen through. Logan had not only assessed his position but had strategically cornered him, rendering his threats empty.