< 100. Found one. >
*
The camp of the Federation of Beastmen was extremely lacking in entertainment. Apart from the supplies brought in from each tribe and the goods obtained through trade, there wasn’t even enough food to go around.
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.”
-*Clang!*
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.
-*Crack!*
“Damn 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.
*
After her twenty-seventh victory, Kirhas’ stamina was gradually reaching its limit. She exhaled sharply and looked around at the admiring warriors.
“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.”
“…”
“Which direction is it?”
“From the north.”
“If it’s the north…”
Partak quickly spoke while looking at the map.
“The Lakar, Ventus, Pelsuan, and Tachari clans are located to the north.”
“What about the Empire?”
“None of them are there. If you go north from here, you’ll enter Kirzat’s territory.”
“Then it must be a guest.”
Fernandez’s eyes slowly opened. Guests at this time had to be welcomed. With a civil war looming, there was no need to make more enemies.
-Tap.
Fernandez lightly tapped the table. Outside the tent, Kirhas’s cheerful laughter and chatter looked bright. She was sweating happily, without a care in the world, winning the hearts of the tribespeople.
Watching her, Fernandez smiled warmly.
‘Impressive.’
Her innate talent. The charm and charisma that drew people in were shining. Her talent was blossoming.
The martial arts she had directly learned from the heretics of the Inquisition Office had developed further through Infermur, and now she possessed combat prowess that ranked among the top even among Beastman warriors.
“Everything is going according to plan.”
Seeing his smile, Partak chuckled. He saw Kirhas as nothing more than a pitiful puppet. She was the external mask Fernandez had prepared.
Behind the great tribe Kirhas had built, Fernandez would reign. Fernandez clicked his tongue at Partak.
‘Fool.’
-That’s normal.
‘A shaman should know how to hide their intentions.’
-In a position tangled with control chains, a shaman who hides their intentions is dead to us. That’s his way of survival. Not hiding his intentions. That’s actually wise.
Partak slowly rose from his seat and bowed deeply to Fernandez.
“My lord, I will prepare to receive the guest.”
“Do so.”
Fernandez glanced at Partak as he left the tent and closed his eyes again.
*
Batras couldn’t hide his confusion the moment he arrived at the Beastmen Federation’s camp.
“What on earth…”
“Hmm…”
His elders groaned softly as they looked at the federation camp. The number of tents had nearly halved, and trash was rolling around the streets.
And the eyes of the tribal warriors were unusual. They were watching them nervously, their eyes sharp and alert.
“Were they attacked?”
“Chieftain. Something’s off.”
“Set up the tents first. And tend to the wounded. I’ll go to the council.”
“Yes.”
The tribal warriors were worn out from continuous battles and long marches. They had managed to escape Tutankhamun Gartep’s army, but the damage the tribe had suffered was not small.
Batras looked at Piel, who was quietly bowing her head beside him.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll follow.”
“What did you see?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
Piel’s honey-colored eyes sparkled as she nodded.
*
Fernandez sat cross-legged on the carpet spread in the tent, quietly chanting mantras. A sinister halo flickered incessantly behind his head.
The candlelight at his feet swayed and danced. The shadows cast by the light created strange shades on Fernandez’s face.
He sat there, watching Batras enter the council.
“Tutankhamun Gartep has declared war. We were retreating after a battle with them, regrouping our forces.”
“Why? Weren’t they in conflict with Kirzat?”
“They assassinated the envoy we sent.”
“…What?”
Batras fell silent for a moment, then looked at the bewildered elders. They were the hawkish and neutral factions of the Kirzat faction. The absence of any dovish elders from the Empire faction felt ominous.
“An agent sent by the Empire assassinated him. It happened within our tribal camp, and Tutankhamun Gartep immediately began a show of force.”
“Damn those humans!”
The elders who held grudges against the Empire gnashed their teeth. Batras paused for a moment, then pointed to the northern wilderness.
“From near the Kirzat border to here, they are advancing toward the Beastmen tribes. Where are the other elders? This is no time for politics. The situation is urgent.”
“Hmm…”
“Those cowards have left.”
“What?”
“We decided to elect a chieftain.”
“…What? A chieftain?”
According to the tradition of the Federation of Nobles, a chieftain could be elected with the unanimous vote of the council members with voting rights. This meant that electing a chieftain was impossible. The council could never reach unanimity.
Batras instinctively felt threatened by the mention of electing a chieftain. Did these guys really assassinate all the dovish council members?
He slowly distanced himself and spoke.
“Surely you didn’t break the peace rules?”
“Of course not! They left out of fear!”
“…To whom?”
Batras felt somewhat relieved. No matter how reckless they were, they wouldn’t have assassinated council members. But the fact that council members had abandoned their voting rights and left the federation council was still highly suspicious.
“To the gods.”
“…Gods? What nonsense is this now?”
Seeing Batras’s confusion, the council members hesitated and mumbled. Amidst this, Partak chuckled. Batras glared sharply at Partak.
“What are you plotting?”
“Chieftain.”
Piel, who had been quietly bowing her head beside him, suddenly grabbed his arm. Batras growled at Partak, then looked down at Piel.
“What is it?”
“What they say is true. I sense divinity.”
Piel’s eyes were fixed somewhere on the ceiling. Her honey-colored eyes gazed at the ceiling, the roof, and beyond, at the complex flow of magic intertwined there.
And at the end of that flow, Fernandez’s hand, which had been controlling the magic, suddenly stopped.
Despite the distance and obstacles, Fernandez and Piel’s eyes met. Piel felt Fernandez’s gaze on her and stared back directly.
Fernandez slowly opened his eyes in the darkness.
“So you were here. Archangel.”
A face hard to forget. Pielanel of wisdom and truth.
![[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return](https://i3.wp.com/novelhitam.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/TS-Obsessed-Gamer-The-Ultimate-Return2.png?resize=85,105 "[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return")
