Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Logan leaned back, a faint flicker of warmth softening his otherwise cold demeanor as he surveyed the two men before him, Surshen and Kule. "Excellent," he began, his voice low but confident, "from this moment on, you will take charge of the Duskin tribe."

Surshen and Kule exchanged bewildered glances. Their minds raced not at the prospect of leadership, but at Logan's next command: "You'll proceed with our original strategy, join the alliance and work to destroy the Silver Mane tribe as planned."

The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with disbelief. Kule's brow furrowed. "But… are we not supposed to merge with the Silver Mane tribe?"

Logan's gaze turned steely. "Let's not forget, just months ago, Mamuti led a coalition of four smaller tribes against us. You remember that, don't you?" He directed his question at Surshen, who nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I remember!" Surshen stammered, his eyes darting toward Mamuti, who stood uncomfortably nearby. The memory stung, a harsh reminder of Mamuti's failed attack that had allowed the Silver Mane tribe to absorb those four tribes, significantly bolstering their strength.

Mamuti's chest tightened with guilt. If only he hadn't underestimated the Silver Mane tribe! If only he had been wiser, would they have been so formidable now? The realization struck him like a cold wave, he had inadvertently played a part in their rise. But no! He was no longer a villain; he was a hero now, part of Logan's grand plan.

If Logan had peered into Mamuti's thoughts, he would have scoffed. The Silver Mane tribe's ascent was inevitable, regardless of Mamuti's actions. Its power was like a relentless tide, rising steadily.

"Your role will mirror that of the Liewa tribe within the alliance," Logan declared, his tone brooking no dissent.

Surshen and Kule exchanged confused looks. The Liewa tribe? Wasn't that the tribe that had betrayed Mamuti's alliance, leading to their downfall? They suppressed their doubts, nodding obediently. "Of course, Chief. We won't disappoint you."

Mamuti felt a surge of mixed emotions. The Liewa tribe, a name that brought with it a history of betrayal and resentment. They were the reason for his fall from grace within the Duskin tribe, and now he was being asked to emulate them?

Logan regarded them all with a piercing gaze. "I trust you," he stated, though his voice was cold and laced with a thinly veiled threat. "But do not forget: failure is not an option. The entire Duskin tribe hangs in the balance."

Surshen and Kule shuddered at his words, their resolve hardening. "Yes, Chief! We will not fail you!"

With that, Logan decided to leave quickly. He understood the delicate nature of his presence; his identity demanded discretion, and the allegiance of the Duskin tribe had to remain a secret, especially from those outside their circle.

Three days slipped by in a blur. December had arrived, the final month of the year, but for those in the wasteland, the change felt irrelevant. Here, the seasons blurred together, with no snow or biting cold to mark winter's arrival. Instead, temperatures hovered pleasantly between 15 and 30 degrees Celsius, making time feel like a fluid concept rather than a strict progression.

As Logan departed, the Duskin tribe came under the swift control of Surshen, Kule, and Mamuti. Within days, they had rounded up dissenters and dissenting voices, swiftly quelling any hint of rebellion. The trio, once unsure of their roles, now found themselves wielding power they had only dreamed of. Yet, the shadow of Logan loomed over them, a constant reminder of the high stakes they faced.

Mamuti's heart raced as he took decisive control over his three brothers, who had been flaunting their newfound power with reckless abandon. It was a mixture of personal revenge and a desire for stability that fueled his actions.

In the shadows, Habak, the chief of the Duskin tribe, remained under strict guard. Though he had been rendered nearly speechless by his recent treatment, his presence alone commanded respect and fear. Mamuti knew that as long as Habak was alive, he could be a threat.

"Keep a close watch on him," Mamuti instructed Surshen and Kule, his voice firm. "We can't afford any slip-ups now. Not after what we've seen from the Liaowa tribe."

Surshen nodded, his expression a blend of resignation and determination. He understood the stakes all too well. Ever since he had lowered his head in surrender, a heavy weight had settled in his gut. The fate of the Duskin tribe felt sealed, and the looming power of Logan only deepened his despair. Surshen was intelligent; he had no illusions about the path ahead. To oppose Logan now would be tantamount to seeking death.

"I won't let my tribe suffer further," he murmured, glancing at Kule, who appeared equally troubled.

Days passed in Duskin, marked by rapid changes in leadership and power dynamics. Outside their borders, the Silver Mane tribe was not standing still either. News of its growth buzzed through the air like a restless wind.

Just yesterday, the cunning foxman Art and the formidable wolfman Boone had returned, leading a caravan of over 12,000 slaves. The numbers were staggering. With this influx, the Silver Mane tribe's population soared past 70,000; no, it exceeded 80,000 when including nearly 6,000 beastmen from Duskin. The sheer scale was overwhelming.

But not all those slaves were meant to bolster the tribe's fighting strength. Half were directed to the dock town, a strategic location that Logan had long seen as ripe for development. He believed the dock, situated conveniently by the water, held immense potential for trade and growth.

"Lotte is keen to send out a fleet downstream," Logan had explained to his advisors, eyes gleaming with ambition. "If we can establish trade routes to Kaiser Prairie, we'll thrive. We need goods to circulate; that's the lifeblood of any prosperous community."

Despite his optimism, the response from the tribe was tepid. Only the Snake People and a handful of Beastmen showed interest in settling at the dock town, eager to embrace the life of fishermen. This left Logan with little choice but to assign 6,000 slaves to the settlement, hoping they would find purpose and prosperity.

As the Silver Mane tribe flourished, they also remained vigilant, quietly mobilizing their forces. News of an alliance between the Adik tribe and the Qatar tribe had reached Logan, and although the initial reaction was one of concern, his confidence reassured the tribal leaders, like Lotte and Kro, who began to see the true potential of their own strength.

"Keep it discreet," Lotte advised during one of their clandestine meetings. "We don't want to cause a stir. Let them think we're unprepared."

The atmosphere in the tribe buzzed with a mixture of tension and anticipation, allowing those astute enough to catch the undercurrents of change. Whispers of preparations were ripe among the members, even if only the leaders understood the full scope of the alliance's implications.

---

Meanwhile, in the Adik tribe, anxiety hung thick in the air. Karl paced restlessly, his mind racing. The news had unsettled him, an alliance with the Qatar tribe and others aimed at destroying the Silver Mane tribe was not just a threat; it was a declaration of war.

"We need to act fast," he murmured to his closest advisors. "If we don't prepare ourselves, we risk being overrun. The Silver Mane tribe may have grown, but we can't underestimate their resolve."

His words ignited a fire among the gathered leaders. They understood the gravity of the situation; the very survival of their tribe was at stake.