The Vastness of Magical Destiny

Chapter 88 - 88 16 Beamon (1)

?Chapter 88: Chapter 16: Beamon (1) Chapter 88: Chapter 16: Beamon (1) Although the mountain winds sweeping over the wilderness in the North now carried a hint of chill, the soldiers who had long lived on this land seemed already accustomed to the climate.

Bare arms revealed coppery, robust muscles, with veins and tendons twisting about like earthworms, invariably fierce-looking with tiger heads and leopard eyes, and curly beards brandishing three-meter-long wooden spears topped with fluttering red tassels. However, the spearheads just above the red tassels were rather rough, clearly the result of simple crude grinding, which somewhat diminished the otherwise formidable presence.

Rings of tents joined end-to-end filled the entire wilderness. At first glance, it felt as though one had stepped into an army base that stretched endlessly into the horizon, with the diverse colors and materials of the tents indicating the distinct tribes they belonged to.

However, the central golden-domed tent with a skylight was obviously distinct. Standing around it were giants over two meters tall, clad in golden leather armor that only covered their chest, abdomen, and other vital areas below. A tiger head devouring a ring emblazoned on the left shoulder of their armor signified the elite status of this troop.

Just the fact that they were donned in armor was enough to identify these men as extraordinary. Beastmen warriors rarely wore such formal and exquisite armor. Even those on the front lines of a battlefield usually only wore a broken leather helmet and a roughly made shabby leather armor plate, with nothing else. Yet, this troop of fifty men was uniformly equipped in the same armor, and even their helmets were adorned with iron-plated neck guards.

Such gear could not be produced within the Beastmen territories. Aside from expensive purchases from the Mortals, the only other way was to plunder it through martial power. But these fifty men, all in the same attire, couldn’t possibly have been so well-equipped through pillage alone. Indeed, apart from the king’s Guard, no one in the Beastman society had such capability.

The Spotted Armor fluttered proudly before the golden tent, proof of this claim. This was the abode of the Great Khan of the Beastman Alliance, active in the western region of the Northern Wasteland on the Blue Continent. A tiger-shaped totem emblem, roaring fiercely with bared teeth and howling skyward, was depicted on the flag flying in the wind, signifying that in this term, the Tiger Clan held the position of Khan king over the entire Alliance. And naturally, the armored guards stationed outside the golden tent were the Tiger Clan’s most elite Guard—the Spotted Armor.

The atmosphere inside the golden tent seemed rather tense, with looks of frustration and dissatisfaction apparent on the faces of several individuals present, as if they were embroiled in an unresolved debate over a particular topic.

The robust man sitting at the center had a broad face and large ears. His reddish-brown complexion lent fierce brilliance to a pair of tiger eyes full of sharp light. His domineering presence was underscored by the faint blackish-brown stripes on his forehead, the most striking emblem of royalty within the Tiger Clan. A dense bushy brown and yellow beard covered the lower half of his face, leaving his mouth well-concealed beneath it. Draped in golden armor, with a wide head of auburn hair hanging to one side, he had a half-a-meter wide silver-grey Great Sword deeply embedded in the mud before him. The hilt, wrapped in crocodile skin, was capped with a large black sphere that shimmered with ripple patterns.

Shami Taegor, the Tiger Clan King, the thirty-second Chief of the Beastman Alliance from the Mogan Wilderness—if anyone were deceived by his seemingly rough and hearty exterior, they would pay a heavy price. Although he was the king of the Tiger Clan, pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger was his most adept skill.

The Mogan Wilderness occupied the entire northern part of the eastern region of the Blue Continent, a vast expanse of land serving as both the birthplace and the major settlement of the Beastmen. Here lived dozens of Beastman tribes, who called themselves the Beamon Kingdom. However, other races, especially Mortals, refused to recognize this so-called Beamon Kingdom.

They believed that the political structure of the Beastmen could not be truly called a country, at best it might be described as a loose tribal Alliance. Hence, powers and peoples from other parts of the Continent mostly referred to it as the Beastman Alliance.

Other races such as Elves, Half-Elves, Shark people, Jellyfish People, and Barbarians, who resented the overbearing unilateralism of Mortals, referred to it by another name—the Beastman Kingdom.

Although there were as many as dozens of tribes within the Beastman Alliance, only a mere six of them actually had the clout to partake in the Alliance’s decision-making. Indeed, it was these six tribes that determined all matters, big and small, within the entire Beastman Alliance.

Sitting around the robust man were four men and a woman, with an old man sitting slightly behind and to the side of the robust man, his head half-bowed. His pitch-black hair cascaded down, covering half his face so that his true visage was obscured, preventing anyone from discerning his appearance.

“Shami, you said those guys were willing to provide us with ample intelligence and resources, didn’t you? So why has there been no news now? They only sent a dozen or so battering rams, and before we could even get adept at using them, they were damaged. This hardly seems to match the terms we agreed upon originally, right?”

The slightly hunched, middle-aged, thin man’s complexion was somewhat ashen, resembling that of a libidinous man overindulged in alcohol, with a cold chill seeping through his teeth. His slender hands rubbed against each other rapidly in front of his body, while his deep-set eyes with faintly glowing green pupils flitted restlessly. The thick armor seemed ill-fitting on his gaunt frame, making him look more like a down-and-out merchant who had failed in business. Only the wolf statue on the top of the brown helmet he wore, depicting a howling wolf, confirmed that his status was extraordinary—an emblem of the highest order within the Wolf Clan.

Carter Wolfe was the undisputed chief of the Wolf Clan, a wise man who alone led the weakest of the six Beastman tribes to a stature rivaling that of the Tiger Clan. In the eyes of all the Wolf Clan members, he was even more suitable than Tiger Clan Leader Shami Taegor to be the ruler of the entire Beastman Alliance.

A glint of sharpness flickered in the robust man’s eyes as he nodded slightly, “Mortals should never be relied on too heavily. Many of them are cunning and slippery of heart, with neither morals nor fidelity to bind them. This time they wouldn’t help us without reason; while they did provide us with siege weapons, which indeed helped us dismantle the mortals’ northern strongholds and fortresses, they demanded that we not cross the line formed by the Ullr Mountains and Ullr River. Why they imposed such terms, I still don’t understand. And it seems that the mortals to the west of Ullr have been prepared even before us. Something is odd here; would they actually consider our interests in Beamon? Or could these guys be in cahoots with the mortals’ powers west of the Ullr Mountains and Ullr River? Isn’t that a bit too preposterous?”

Nobody knew exactly which side these guys belonged to, but the fact that they provided Beastmen with battering rams—a powerful attack weapon that had been a long-coveted dream for centuries—was undeniably genuine. How these guys managed to transport them past the blockade, and not just one or two, but fifteen of them, was also a mystery.

Even though the contribution of these weapons in combat seemed somewhat negligible, the shock and awe they brought to soldiers guarding the castles and fortresses, as well as the resulting boost in morale for the Beastmen forces, surpassed any reward. Regardless of what ulterior motives the selling mortals may have had, this time’s easy removal of many fortresses and castles from the northern Mortal Countries was largely attributed to the utilization of these battering rams, a point on which everyone agreed.

“As for why they no longer provide more battering rams, I think they are probably concerned that having too many of these weapons would boost our power too much, which does not align with the interests of mortals. They want to use us but also keep us in check—an astute plan indeed.”

The middle-aged, strong man’s face beamed with a hearty, sincere laugh, giving off the impression of a genial elder.

“These mortals weigh every action against its consequences before making a move. Their thoughts are far more intricate than we can imagine; dealing with them feels even more exhausting than waging war. As for why they would provide us with siege weapons, to tell you the truth, I still don’t have any clue to this day.”

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