In a camp filled with young, spirited warriors, the only things they could do were sparring, duels disguised as sparring, murders disguised as duels, or drinking alone.
At this time, Kirhas had only one mission: to defeat anyone who challenged her. Since the day the elders of the Federation had largely deserted, the camp had been enveloped in an uneasy atmosphere. To revitalize this, they needed an “icon.”
–
Kirhas’ longsword trembled thinly from the impact. The high-quality steel longsword forged in the Dane Kingdom showed overwhelmingly superior performance compared to the crude weapons of the nobility.
–
“d*mn it!”
A Beastman warrior glared at the longsword that had snapped just above the crossguard. It wasn’t just the quality of the steel; she was also overwhelming most of these warriors with her skill and finesse.
Her lord had given her only one command: do not lose. And for Kirhas, that was much easier and more straightforward than vague orders like “use your head” or “win their hearts.”
“Haha! Next!”“She’s like a demon.”
The Beastman warrior grumbled as he picked up the broken pieces of his sword and left the training ground. Soon, a young man with well-developed muscles, stripped to the waist, entered wielding a club.
“Enax, warrior of the Zareth Clan! I seek your guidance, Your Excellency!”“Too wordy, Enax! Haha, just say you want to fight if you want to fight!”“Hahaha! Don’t cry when you get hit!”
The young man laughed heartily as he swung his club around. His movements exuded tremendous strength. Kirhas spun her sword once, settling into her stance, and grinned fiercely.
This was a familiar type of opponent. It felt just like sparring with Diemonica.
And this guy was definitely weaker than Diemonica.
“So, anyone else?”“You can still fight after this?”“Might as well come at me all at once!”
As Kirhas chuckled, the tribal warriors laughed along and chattered noisily. They revered outstanding warriors and hunters.
-Whoosh.
“Here, drink this.”“Thanks!”
A canteen flew into her hand. Kirhas opened it and gulped down the lukewarm water. Warriors crowded around her.
“Your skills are incredible, Kirhas Hearttaker. Where did you learn your martial arts?”“Here and there?”
She couldn’t exactly say the Inquisition Office. Kirhas wiped her lips and smiled. The warriors were already captivated by her. Her beautiful appearance, bold personality, and exceptional combat prowess.
“Is that rumor true?”“Huh? What rumor?”“The one about you becoming the Chieftain.”“…Hmm.”
Kirhas’ mind began to race. Fernandez had only told her to fight and win, and her speech at the Federation meeting was just a slightly modified version of Fernandez’s script to create a focal point.
Somehow, it seemed like she had revealed her ambitions, but she had no grand aspirations like becoming the Chieftain of the Beastmen Federation, something that hadn’t happened in decades.
‘Well, His Excellency probably has a plan.’
“It’s a bit hard to answer right now!”
When Kirhas laughed and replied, the warriors’ eyes lit up. They were young and spirited, but not fools. The fact that they had been sent to this camp, rather than staying with their tribes, meant they had essentially been discarded by their tribes.
Warriors cherished by their Tribal Chiefs, and those loyal to them, never left the tribal strongholds. The warriors sent to the Beastmen Nobility Council’s camp were those deemed threatening enough to challenge the Tribal Chiefs or their successors.
So, this camp was like a refuge for the second-tier figures cast aside by tribal politics. They instinctively felt the need for a new leader or a ladder to climb.
In a place filled with warriors of similar skill, a charismatic outsider who stood out, and the title of a Great Warrior blessed by divine revelation, was incredibly appealing.
Just as Fernandez had hoped.
Fernandez sat in a dark tent illuminated by a small candle. After days of preparation, he had finally brought the entire camp under his magical control.
-Whoosh.
His fingers traced the air. A black halo burned, and the movements, positions, and conversations of the people within the camp seeped into his mind.
Watching this, Partak swallowed hard. He was the greatest shaman of his tribe, perhaps even among the top five in the entire Federation of Beastmen.
Because of this, Partak could vaguely grasp the magic Fernandez was wielding. It was a high-level spell requiring delicate control, something he wouldn’t even dare attempt.
‘Just how much mental strength does he have…?’
Fernandez had spread his sensory organs across the entire vast camp. He could detect everything from the movements of people to the chirping of insects.
To process that much information without losing control of his magic, while maintaining his sanity—such mental strength was unimaginable.
“Someone’s coming.”“…”
