Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Everyone in the hall felt a mixture of curiosity and tension as they looked to Logan, waiting for answers. Why had they endured such a high cost in casualties? What exactly had their tribe gained from this hard-won victory?

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Logan nodded, and with a signal, Kro stepped forward to deliver the report, bowing respectfully before he spoke. "According to the intelligence we gathered from the twenty-one captured chiefs, the coalition assembled a total of 31,231 Beastman warriors."

A murmur ran through the hall, but Kro continued.

"Of those, 1,133 Beastman riders formed their cavalry units. We have successfully captured 24,657 of their warriors, with 1,369 severely injured and 3,725 with minor injuries."

The council members exchanged glances, absorbing the scale of their victory.

"In addition," Kro went on, "we seized 953 wargs, more than 30,000 sets of weapons and armor, over 4,000 bows and crossbows, and more than 100,000 arrows."

He paused, letting the impressive inventory sink in before continuing. "Among the captured coalition leaders, we have 183 fourth-level commanders, 59 fifth-level commanders or chiefs, 13 sixth-level leaders, and even two seventh-level chiefs."

Astali's eyes widened in disbelief as she processed the numbers. "Over 30,000 soldiers, and so many high-level fighters? I had no idea the coalition forces were this large or this powerful," she exclaimed, clearly shaken by the revelation.

As she spoke, a new sense of the scale of their victory washed over the room. Yes, the Silver Mane Tribe had suffered losses, but the rewards were significant. In the grand scheme, the gains dwarfed the losses.

"That's right," Kro nodded, smiling slightly. "These tribes brought everything they had, hoping to crush us in one grand effort. If they'd been better organized, or had attacked with a more coordinated strategy, we might've had to pay an even steeper price."

"True, but luckily for us, they weren't prepared for our strength," Lots chuckled, his voice filled with satisfaction. "In the end, it doesn't matter how it happened, what matters is that we won."

A ripple of laughter and relief spread through the room. Even Logan allowed himself a faint smile. It was a resounding victory, one that would solidify the Silver Mane Tribe's dominance.

But as the laughter faded, Lot spoke up, his tone serious. "What's our plan for the prisoners, Chief?"

This question sobered the room. The captured were divided into ordinary prisoners, foot soldiers who could likely be integrated into the tribe with little trouble, and the high-level prisoners, which posed a more complex issue.

Ordinary prisoners, as Lot pointed out, were usually straightforward. They were typically brought back to the tribe, where they would be absorbed into the workforce and slowly integrated. But the stronger captives were a different matter altogether. For the Silver Mane Tribe, any fighter at level four and above was considered a "strong" prisoner. Integrating such warriors was a risk; they had considerable skill and loyalty to their tribes, which meant they couldn't be trusted as easily.

And this time, they had captured hundreds of strong fighters, divided across twenty-one tribes, including two seventh-level chiefs. These high-ranking warriors would not be easy to manage.

Logan went silent, thinking carefully about the challenge. He knew that capturing two seventh-level chiefs was both a rare opportunity and a serious dilemma. The Silver Mane Tribe itself had only one seventh-level warrior from its original ranks; his grandfather, Barnett.

Hoyle, the half-orc shaman, had been hired as an ally, but Logan knew that relying on an outsider to control two high-ranking enemies was a gamble. Hoyle's loyalty was based on their current interests, not true allegiance.

And as for Barnett… Logan knew his grandfather had only recently reached the seventh level. While he had fought well, he was still at a disadvantage when facing the captured chiefs, Arar of the Adik tribe and Lero of the Qatar tribe. These two were seasoned seventh-level fighters who had honed their skills over many years. Arar, in particular, was rumored to be nearly at the eighth level, making him a formidable opponent.

Logan finally broke the silence. "These prisoners present a unique challenge. We can't afford to simply release the strong ones, nor can we risk them sowing discord within our ranks. But if they can be persuaded to join us willingly, their talents could greatly strengthen the Silver Mane Tribe."

The council listened intently, hanging on his every word.

"Let's start by treating them with respect," Logan continued, his gaze steady. "If we show them that joining us isn't just a survival tactic but an opportunity, some might willingly integrate. Those who resist, however… they won't be allowed to cause trouble."

Barnett cleared his throat. "And the seventh-level chiefs, Arar and Lero? They're too powerful to keep in chains, yet too dangerous to trust."

Logan nodded, understanding the gravity of his grandfather's concern. "Arar and Lero are the trickiest. We'll need to handle them carefully. We'll start by isolating them from their men. Without their influence, their followers may be more open to joining us. As for the two chiefs themselves… I'll personally oversee their detention. They need to understand that resistance is pointless."

Lot stepped forward, his voice cautious. "And if they refuse to join us?"

Logan's expression hardened. "If they choose defiance over cooperation, we'll have to make an example of them. We cannot allow them to threaten the tribe's stability."

A heavy silence fell as everyone absorbed the reality of Logan's words. While no one relished the idea of further bloodshed, they understood the necessity. The Silver Mane Tribe's survival depended on unity and strength.

Logan turned back to Kro, giving him a steady look. "Continue with the report, Kro. Let's understand fully what we gained and what we're dealing with."

Kro nodded, gathering himself before resuming. With this plan in motion, they would move forward carefully but decisively, ensuring that their victory would secure not just their immediate safety, but the long-term prosperity of the Silver Mane Tribe.

"What are your opinions?" Logan's voice broke the heavy silence, his piercing gaze scanning the room. He hesitated for only a moment before continuing. The conference hall was filled with some of the brightest minds and strongest warriors of the Silver Mane Tribe; Kro, Lots, Allen, his uncle Begon, his uncle Reynolds, and Astali. These were orcs known for their wit and strength, and he trusted their judgment.

The room remained silent for a long moment. Eyes darted from one face to another, everyone grappling with the enormity of the situation. This wasn't a simple decision. The sheer number of powerful captives, two seventh-level chiefs and thirteen sixth-level warriors; was unprecedented. Even among those in the hall, many were only at the fifth level. The threat these captives posed was immense, and any misstep could spell disaster.

Finally, Allen broke the silence. "Lord Chief, if I may," he said respectfully, bowing slightly. "Instead of focusing on how to handle these prisoners directly, we should first address their hopes."

Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Hopes? What do you mean, Allen? Speak freely."

The others turned their attention to Allen, curious. What hope could these powerful captives possibly hold onto?

Allen cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. "These top warriors are chiefs or elite fighters from significant tribes; especially the Adik and Qatar tribes. Right now, their hope lies in the belief that their tribes still stand. They believe they can regroup and fight again. That hope fuels their resistance."

The room stirred at his words.

"So," Allen continued, his voice steady, "before we decide what to do with them, we must shatter that illusion. The best way to do that is simple: annex their tribes. If we fully integrate the Adik and Qatar tribes and the others, we eliminate their hope of returning to power. Without their tribes, they're just individuals. Isolated. Vulnerable. And far more likely to surrender or assimilate into the Silver Mane Tribe."

Logan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful smile spreading across his face. "That's… an excellent point, Allen," he said, his voice carrying both admiration and determination. "You've made it clear. If we want to subdue these captives, we must first conquer the tribes they come from. Well said."

The others in the hall nodded in agreement, murmuring their approval. The logic was sound, and the promise of integrating these tribes brought a spark of excitement to the air.

Lots grinned, unable to contain himself. "Just think of the numbers! The Adik and Qatar tribes alone would bring thousands of Beastmen under our banner. Not to mention the smaller vassal tribes."

"Exactly," Logan said, his voice firm. "If we succeed in annexing these tribes, the Silver Mane Tribe will become the undisputed power in this region. We will not just be strong, we will be unchallenged."

Kro, always quick to act, stepped forward, his expression sharp and resolute. "Chief, if that's the plan, we must act quickly. Time is not on our side. Many of these tribes joined the coalition because they were desperate; short on food and resources. If we delay, more of their people will die, and that's a loss for us. Every Beastman that starves is one fewer warrior to strengthen the Silver Mane Tribe."

Logan smirked at Kro's practical approach. "You always have a way of bringing things back to the tribe's interests, don't you, Kro?" he said, half in jest. "But you're right. Every delay costs us potential allies and resources. We can't afford to wait."

Kro bowed slightly, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Thank you, Chief. Then I suggest we move immediately, deploy troops and secure these tribes with lightning speed before they can reorganize or resist."

Lots and Allen exchanged pleased smiles, clearly eager to begin the next phase of the tribe's expansion.

But before the excitement could carry them away, Begon spoke up, his tone calm but firm. "Lord Chief, while I agree with the plan, I urge caution," he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Kro and the others. "Yes, we won the battle, and yes, we achieved great things, but the casualties we suffered were heavy, heavier than we've ever known. If this had been a few months ago, before Logan became our chief, those losses would have devastated us. We cannot afford to lose more warriors unnecessarily."

The room grew quiet again, Begon's words casting a shadow over the optimism.

Logan nodded slowly, acknowledging his uncle's point. "You're right, Uncle Begon. The lives of our warriors are precious, and we must be cautious in this next step. But we can't let caution paralyze us. We've already proven our strength. Now, we must act decisively to secure the future of the Silver Mane Tribe."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, locking eyes with each of his council members. "Here's the plan: we will mobilize troops immediately, but we will also send envoys to these tribes. Offer them a choice; submit peacefully, and they will find a place within our tribe. Resist, and they will face the same fate as the coalition."

Kro nodded, his expression serious. "Understood, Chief. We'll strike swiftly and strategically."

Logan's eyes glinted with determination. "And for the strong captives, keep them under strict guard. Once their tribes are annexed, we'll revisit their fates. But for now, we cannot let them interfere with what comes next."

The room was silent, every orc in the hall feeling the weight of the chief's words. The Silver Mane Tribe had reached a pivotal moment. They had won the battle, but the real work was just beginning.

"Prepare the troops," Logan commanded, his voice cutting through the quiet. "The Silver Mane Tribe will not wait for opportunity; we will seize it."

The council members stood, their resolve solidifying as they left the hall to set the plan into motion. The Silver Mane Tribe was poised to rise higher than ever, and under Logan's leadership, there was no doubt they would succeed.