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Kule raised an eyebrow. "You really believe the Silver Mane Tribe can hold its own against the others?"

Kule's question hung in the air. A veteran warrior of the Duskin tribe and one of its formidable sixth-level pillar guardians, he had only recently, after much persuasion from Mamuti, agreed to ally with the Silver Mane Tribe. Yet, his stance was cautious, almost skeptical. In his heart, he was still a watchful outsider. To truly join Silver Mane, he needed to see if they could withstand the coming storm.

He continued, "The Adik and Qatar tribes are rallying others to their side. Even smaller tribes are joining forces. Do you think Silver Mane can handle such pressure?"

Mamuti's grin only widened. "Uncle Kule, that's exactly why I'm going. I've sent word to the Silver Mane Tribe. If they can hold their ground, then we were right to trust them."

"And if they can't?" Kule pressed, his voice steady.

"Then," Mamuti replied with a shrug, "there's nothing left to say."

Kule gave him a sidelong look, a chuckle escaping him. "You're a crafty one, aren't you?" He shook his head, impressed. "But honestly, I hope they hold on. A tribe with a vision for greatness… that's the kind of place I'd like to call home."

Kule wasn't clinging to the Duskin tribe out of loyalty; he'd simply been waiting for a tribe with ambition, one that sought to grow and dominate, to bring the surrounding tribes under its sway. In truth, he never saw himself as a betrayer, how could he betray what he'd never fully committed to?

Mamuti laughed, clapping Kule on the back. "That makes two of us!"

---

That afternoon, Mamuti stood outside the gate of the Silver Mane Tribe, with his loyal fifth-level wolf, "Meow," by his side. He took in the sight before him, and his jaw nearly dropped. The transformation was remarkable.

Only a few months ago, the Silver Mane Tribe had been small, its gates modest and unassuming. Now, the massive gate loomed before him, radiating the strength and pride of a large tribe. There was a sense of power, an aura that announced its rise among the orc tribes. It looked like a true stronghold, a home to tens of thousands of orcs.

"How did they manage to grow this fast?" he muttered, awe creeping into his voice. Since his last visit, this question had plagued him, but he had yet to unravel the mystery.

"Mr. Mamuti, the chief has requested your presence." Two burly Beastmen warriors approached, fully armed, and stood at attention.

Mamuti snapped back to reality, his excitement rekindling. "Excellent! Lead the way." He could finally meet the young chief he'd only caught a glimpse of last time.

Following the guards, he soon found himself at the entrance of the council hall, where a figure waited, silhouetted against the doorway. As Mamuti approached, he recognized him instantly, the young chieftain of the Silver Mane Tribe, Logan. Memories flooded back of their last encounter, when Mamuti had stood before Logan as a prisoner, defeated and captured. But this time was different.

Logan exuded an aura of authority, a confidence that felt almost tangible. Mamuti could sense it; the maturity, the strength of a true leader. In these few months, the young chieftain had grown into his role, and his very presence commanded respect.

The two Beastmen warriors bowed respectfully to their chief and quietly withdrew, leaving Mamuti alone in the presence of Logan. He hesitated for a brief moment, then straightened himself, climbed the stairs, and stopped just one step below the chieftain. Lowering his head respectfully, he greeted him with deference.

"I, Mamuti, greet the chieftain," he said, his voice steady but laced with a newfound admiration.

Logan looked at Mamuti with a calm, piercing gaze, barely a flicker of emotion in his eyes. To anyone observing, it might seem like he was simply indifferent. But Mamuti, standing there, felt the weight of the scrutiny and couldn't shake the feeling that the chieftain was assessing him on a deeper level.

To be honest, even Logan found Mamuti's loyalty curious. Here was the son of a rival chief, surrendering to the Silver Mane Tribe without much hesitation only months ago. It was unusual, perhaps even suspicious, for a young man born into leadership to switch allegiances so easily. But Logan knew better than to underestimate Mamuti. He'd observed that, while some might call him a "traitor," Mamuti saw himself as a survivor; someone who knew when to adapt. It was a fine line, and heroes, Logan thought, were often just as easily branded as traitors.

Watching Mamuti squirm under his gaze, Logan finally let a small smile slip through, breaking the silence. "You mentioned you had something important to discuss," he prompted, his tone a touch softer. "Well? Out with it."

Mamuti exhaled quietly, grateful for the shift in Logan's mood. He quickly steadied himself. "Chief, I bring urgent news. The Adik Tribe and the Qatar Tribe have formed an alliance, and they're rallying all the smaller tribes. They aim to destroy the Silver Mane Tribe altogether."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Really? And how did you come across this information?"

Mamuti swallowed, nodding. "They sent an envoy to my father to join the alliance."

Logan's face remained unmoved, though the news of an impending coalition was unexpected. The Silver Mane Tribe hadn't gone out of its way to provoke these tribes, yet they were planning to strike first, aiming not just to weaken, but to eliminate Silver Mane?

"Destroy the Silver Mane Tribe?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a cold, steely tone. "They don't know their own limits."

A hint of amusement crept into Logan's voice. The Silver Mane Tribe was no weakling. With high-level warriors and a solid base of soldiers, it had grown powerful and rapidly so. While Logan was somewhat surprised, he certainly wasn't intimidated.

Mamuti, however, was taken aback. Here he was, delivering news of a massive alliance, yet Logan remained completely calm. Where was the anxiety, the urgency to prepare for battle? It was as though the young chief knew something he didn't, some secret behind Silver Mane's rapid ascent.

"And did your father agree to join them?" Logan asked, his voice casual, but with an edge that hinted at deeper intrigue.

Mamuti nodded, his tone respectful. "Yes, he agreed."

Logan chuckled softly, gazing out into the distance. "I thought so. Your Duskin Tribe has been feeling the pressure lately, hasn't it? I'm sure when your father heard about an alliance to destroy the Silver Mane Tribe, he jumped at the chance. After all, the Silver Mane Tribe has had its eye on Duskin for some time."

Mamuti's heart raced. The chief had guessed everything so precisely; his father's fears, his eagerness to align with anyone who might prevent Silver Mane's expansion.

But Logan wasn't done. "And," he continued, "I hear that you didn't come alone. You brought Kule, one of your father's most trusted sixth-level warriors, with you. With that kind of influence, couldn't you have taken control of Duskin yourself?"

Mamuti hesitated, feeling the chief's eyes upon him, sharp and perceptive. He took a steadying breath. "Chief, it's… complicated. You see, nearly all the tribal leaders back home are related to me by blood. They wouldn't turn on me directly. But if I tried anything, my father would hear about it immediately. As for Kule, while he has some command power, my father has kept him on a tight leash. Without his explicit orders, Kule can't mobilize the troops."

Mamuti's frustration was clear. He had long harbored ambitions to lead his tribe, but his father's vigilant hold over the leadership and the internal web of loyalties had made any attempt at a takeover impossible. He had chosen, reluctantly, to abandon his hopes of becoming Duskin's chief; at least for now.

Logan studied him for a long moment, then shrugged, a faint smile on his face. "I see," he said, almost amused. "In that case, how about this? I'll go pay your father a visit myself."

Mamuti's eyes widened, a flicker of alarm crossing his face. "You mean…?"

"Let them form their alliance," Logan continued, his tone dismissive. "In alliances like these, there are always factions, the tigers who contribute little, and the wolves sent in as fodder. What do I have to fear from a pack of yapping puppies?"

Mamuti felt a shiver run through him. Logan spoke with such confidence, such certainty, that it was hard not to feel swept along by his conviction.