Reborn As A Beastman With A System

In the northern part of the battlefield, Alan, the fierce leader of the wolf cavalry, raised his gleaming wolf-headed scimitar high into the air. The blade caught the sunlight, flashing like a beacon of war. His voice rang out over the chaotic field, a thunderous roar that cut through the din. "Kill!"

In an instant, more than a thousand wolf-mounted cavalry surged forward behind him, their wolves' fierce snarls adding to the cacophony. The sheer number and ferocity of these wolf riders sent a wave of terror through the coalition forces, who had not anticipated such a powerful assault. Soldiers in the coalition ranks exchanged fearful glances, their resolve crumbling at the sight of this deadly pack barreling towards them.

And that wasn't the end of it.

From the south, another thousand cavalry joined the charge, these riders mounted on thick-skinned wild boars, their tusks sharp and menacing. Leading them was Jawa, a wild boar warrior whose reputation for brutality was well known across the land. His boar-mounted warriors thundered into the battlefield, kicking up dust as they moved, the ground trembling under the weight of their charge.

Behind the coalition forces, chaos had already erupted. The Duskin tribe, meant to be allies, had turned on them, stabbing their former comrades in the back with ruthless precision. Coalition soldiers were caught off guard, their defensive formations shattered from within.

Mamuti, Surshen, and Kule, the orchestrators of this betrayal, stood back and watched the pandemonium unfold with wide eyes. When they saw the overwhelming number of wolf and boar cavalry crashing into the battlefield, their confidence faltered, and a chill ran down their spines.

"This… this is the true strength of the Silver Mane Tribe?" Mamuti muttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to process the scene before him. "So many cavalry… more than we ever anticipated."

The three conspirators shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. They had initially planned to bide their time, delay their full involvement, and then choose the right moment to strike at the coalition. But seeing the Silver Mane Tribe's sheer numbers and power, they felt relief wash over them; relief that they hadn't waited too long. If they had hesitated any further, they might have been mistaken for coalition forces and slaughtered by the Silver Mane cavalry.

As the cavalry swept into the fray, the warriors of the Duskin tribe were invigorated, their spirits lifted by the sight of the powerful reinforcements. They launched themselves into battle with renewed vigor, quickly overpowering the coalition soldiers at the rear.

"Curse that traitorous Duskin tribe! How dare they turn on us!" one coalition soldier shouted, his voice breaking with betrayal and rage.

"Damn the Silver Mane Tribe!" another cried out. "Where did they get so many cavalry?"

On the frontlines, Arar's eyes narrowed as he witnessed the battlefield shift, his face contorted in frustration. The coalition's defenses were crumbling, especially at the Silver Mane Tribe's defensive line, where their warriors now surged forward with unrestrained aggression.

Barnett, wounded but relentless, grinned at Arar as he fought him blow for blow. "It's over, Arar! Your so-called alliance has no hope left!" he taunted, barely managing to deflect a strike.

Arar sneered, undeterred. His blade sliced through the air with lethal precision, forcing Barnett to stagger back, blood seeping from a cut on his shoulder. "Surrender? You're delusional, Barnett," he spat. "All we need to do is kill you and then take down Logan. The coalition will still have victory within its grasp!" His words were cold, yet desperation laced his voice as he launched into an even fiercer assault.

Barnett gritted his teeth, feeling the pain from his injury, but his spirit burned bright. He could see the coalition's lines breaking apart, their forces in disarray. The Silver Mane Tribe's warriors, once content to hold their defensive line, were now surging forward, surrounding coalition forces like hunters closing in on trapped prey.

---

The Arrival of Lero

At that moment, Lero, chief of the Qatar tribe, who had been struggling against Hoyle's wood magic, finally broke free. He emerged at the defense line, his fierce gaze instantly locking onto Logan, who stood observing the battlefield with a calm and steady demeanor.

"Master Chief, watch out!" Hoyle's voice carried over the noise, a warning to Logan as he turned his head slightly, his expression as composed as ever, meeting Lero's intense glare with indifference.

Realizing the danger, Hoyle began chanting swiftly, his staff raised high. In response, massive vines erupted from the ground, twisting and weaving together to form a towering barrier between Logan and Lero, an organic wall of defense.

Lero glanced at the vine barrier and let out a cold, disdainful laugh. As the chief of the Qatar tribe, he had heard of Logan, the young chief of the Silver Mane Tribe. He was supposed to be nothing more than a newly ascended Beastman, barely out of his youth. But as Lero watched him, he sensed something more; a quiet strength and commanding aura that belied his age.

"So, this is the chief of the Silver Mane Tribe," Lero muttered to himself, eyes narrowing with renewed determination. If he could capture Logan, this entire battle would turn in their favor. His lips curled into a predatory grin. Victory was within his reach.

With a burst of fighting spirit, Lero became a blur of motion. He lunged at the vine barrier, his powerful aura shattering it effortlessly. Hoyle, realizing the danger, felt his heart pound with worry. He didn't know the true extent of Logan's power, but he knew the young chief's strength was untested in a direct battle against someone like Lero.

Desperately, Hoyle chanted faster, summoning more vines to hold back the advancing warrior. Yet Lero was too fast. In just a few swift leaps, he closed the gap, dodging and slicing through the vines as if they were nothing but wisps of smoke.

In a final leap, Lero landed directly before Logan, his hand reaching out to grab the young chief's shoulder, ready to drag him into the thick of battle. Hoyle's heart sank as he watched, feeling powerless to stop the confrontation.

But just as Lero's hand was about to make contact, Logan moved. With a calm, practiced motion, he sidestepped Lero's grasp, a steely gaze fixed on his opponent. He raised his own weapon, a silver-edged axe glinting in his hand, his movements swift and controlled, exuding a confidence that was unexpected for someone so young.

"You're not the first to underestimate me, Lero," Logan said, his voice cool and steady. "And you won't be the last to regret it."

Lero's smirk faded, replaced by a flash of surprise. He hadn't expected the young chief to react so quickly, or with such composure. This wasn't the timid young wolf he had envisioned; this was a warrior born.

The battlefield around them seemed to fade as Logan and Lero faced off, each one sizing the other up, preparing for the clash that could decide the fate of their tribes.

Logan sneered, his expression icy and unwavering. With a swift, almost casual motion, he reached out, clamped his hand around Lero's neck, and lifted him off the ground as if he weighed nothing.

Lero's eyes widened in disbelief. He was a seventh-level warrior, renowned for his strength and resilience. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yet here he was, suspended in the air, completely immobilized, no matter how fiercely he struggled. Panic flickered in his eyes, a rare sight for someone of his stature.

"Impossible…," he gasped, barely able to breathe, let alone comprehend the power radiating from Logan. His mind raced as the horrifying realization set in: Logan wasn't just strong; he was leagues beyond anything Lero had ever faced.

Logan watched him impassively, the corners of his mouth twisted in a faint smirk. Without a word, he unleashed a powerful kick, sending Lero hurtling through the air like a ragdoll.

Boom!

Lero crashed into a massive kodo beast, the force of the impact toppling the creature with a thunderous thud. He fell to the ground, coughing up blood, his body wracked with pain. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose, staining the ground beneath him.

"A-ah…" he groaned, struggling to lift his head as he stared at Logan in sheer terror. Just one kick, a single blow from this young chief, and he was left broken, helpless. The raw power of Logan was beyond anything he had imagined.

Hoyle, watching from nearby, felt a chill creep up his spine. He'd battled Lero himself and knew firsthand the strength of a seventh-level warrior. Yet Logan had dismissed Lero with a single kick; as if he were nothing. Hoyle's respect for the Silver Mane chieftain deepened, mixed with a new sense of awe and fear.

Logan barely acknowledged Hoyle's reaction. To him, Lero's prowess was laughable. A seventh-level warrior? Even an eighth-level fighter posed little threat to him. His gaze shifted, sweeping across the battlefield, where the coalition forces were faltering under the relentless onslaught from the Silver Mane Tribe. Signs of surrender rippled through their ranks.

Just then, Logan heard a familiar voice calling out. "Brother! Let us join the battle!" Kevin, his younger brother, approached him with the eager eyes of a soldier who had been watching from the sidelines for too long.

Kevin, along with others in the Youth Army Guard, had witnessed Logan's incredible display of strength. The sight of their leader effortlessly defeating a powerful foe had stirred a burning excitement among them, an itch to test themselves in the heat of battle.

But Logan shook his head firmly. "No," he replied, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Kevin's face fell, frustration simmering in his eyes. "Brother, why are you being like this? We're not children anymore. We've trained for years,,our skills are just as sharp as any soldier's. How can we improve if we're only ever watching from a distance? To truly learn, we need to experience the battlefield, to see blood and feel the weight of real combat. You're underestimating us!"

Logan raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at the edge of his lips. His younger brother, once so eager and naive, was standing up for himself, challenging him with reasoned arguments. He looked at Kevin for a moment, assessing him.

"You've grown bold, haven't you?" he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice. "Fine. I'll allow it. But listen carefully; this is a battlefield, not a training ground. There's no room for foolishness. If any of you make a mistake out there, there are no second chances. Understand?"

Kevin's face lit up with a wide grin. "Thank you, brother! I promise we'll be careful!" Without wasting another second, he sprinted back to his group, the Youth Army Guard, sharing the news with a gleeful urgency.

---

Meanwhile, Arar, still locked in a fierce struggle at the front, noticed Lero's absence and felt an uneasy twist in his gut. "Where is Lero?" he muttered, his eyes darting across the battlefield. But as he searched, dread began to claw at him. He couldn't spot his ally anywhere. Could it be…?

"Lero… dead?" The thought sent a shiver through him, though he could barely accept it. How could a seventh-level warrior fall so easily? His mind raced with doubt and fear, emotions he hadn't felt in years.

Suddenly, massive vines surged toward him, conjured by Hoyle's relentless magic. Arar gritted his teeth, his fighting spirit flaring as he slashed through the vines with fierce, sweeping strokes. His aura blazed around him, crushing the vines under the sheer intensity of his power, but the unease within him only grew.

The battlefield had become a place of dread for the coalition forces, who watched as the Silver Mane Tribe's warriors pressed forward, their morale bolstered by Logan's overwhelming display of strength. With their ranks breaking, and their leaders disappearing or falling one by one, it was only a matter of time before the coalition's last slivers of hope crumbled entirely.

And as Logan stood amidst the chaos, an unshakable figure of strength and command, he knew the battle was as good as won.