Law of the Devil

While all of this was occurring at the same time, there were several disheartened eyes within the main legion body showing disappointment at the sad picture.

“My brothers, it seems like we are going to have to listen to that guy in the end to make this work.” Standing at three meters in height, the one speaking here was a monstrous being that carried a heavy voice that’s constantly causing the nearby ground to rumble with every word he made. This was a rhinoman, a beastkin that had a single horn on his forehead and super thick layer of skin similar to elephants.

“Rock! Are you telling me that us beastkins must submit ourselves to those elves?! Damn it, just looking at those scrawny elves is enough to aggravate me to no end! What’s more, if we bow down to them now then there’s no going back. We will forever become their slaves, moving as they order in the future! I cannot endure such humiliation! Us, Beastmen as a race, are many times stronger than they are physically, how can I accept being ordered around by those sissies!” The one protesting in a rolling howl next to the rhinoman was a demi-human with the traits of a lion. Unlike his friend though, this being didn’t have any horns on the forehead, but rather a golden tattoo of the word ‘king’ instead. What’s more, the color of his fur also glistened with a golden tint if the light got on it in the right angle, that’s the sign of a true ruler among his tribe.

Understanding his friend’s frustration, the rhinoman known as Rock attempts to sway the lion back to his sense: “I hate those guys as well, especially that person! However, my dear Liger, we have to temporarily submit to them no matter how unwilling we are… You know it as well. After we left the main continent, our beastkin suffered heavily and lost almost our entire aerial force. Aside from the scarce members of the eagle tribe who can still fly, we have nothing left to confront those blasted flying serpents. Yes, our warriors are brave, but a pair of feet is still a pair of feet. We have no means to grow a set of wings!”

After saying that fine speech illustrating their frustration, Rock then shifts his attention over to the other side where his tone inherently grew colder in terms of friendliness: “And what about you Dominus? What’s your opinion?”

This guy whose name was hailed as Dominus stood around five meters away from the other two leaders of the beastkin army. Unlike the two massive monsters though, this individual was much smaller in terms of size with one exception: he had a massive wolf as a mount! The canine stretched over two meters in length from front to back, its fur black and coarse, and those fine claws and fangs were abnormally long and ferocious, evident by the deep gnashes on the ground.

As for Dominus himself, his whole body was in perfect proportion to his size. Wide shoulders, arched back, and a powerful waist to keep himself mounted at all times. But the most eye-catching had to be his armor though. Unlike the rusted garbage the other beastkin tribes wore, this individual had a neatly strapped plate to his chest and a wolf shaped helmet to boot!

“Do as you will!” Dominus’s voice may be hoarse and cold, but the bloodthirstiness he held could not be denied: “Its your business that you only have two legs. We, the proud Wolf Riders, will not submit to any elf. No one aside from me can ever hope to command my Wolf Riders!” After saying that much, the arrogant wolfman then pats down at his steed’s head, indicating it to leave.

“Humph… just ignore him.” Watching that departing back disappearing off into the distance, Liger’s mood swiftly turned sour: “These blasted wolfmen are only relying on their huge numbers to flaunt their attitude.”

Rock nods in turn: “Fortunately Dominus is a clear minded guy even if he’s a bit annoying. As long as those elves don’t actively provoke him then he’s not going to object to the idea.”

Meanwhile back over at the wolf leader’s side, the proud wolfmen didn’t go too far, merely back to his tribe’s location in the leftmost wing of the formation. The area was a natural pit, allowing him to easily gain an easy height advantage by jumping up to a three-meter-high rock to face his people.

“Wolf Riders! The time for battle is soon upon us!!” Sword drawn, he points it at the sky where the enemy lies.

Awhooo~~~~

Owwhooo~~~~

Just like their leader, multitudes of differing wolfmen are howling out at the sky with their steeds. There are black ones just like Dominus’s, but there are also other colors like grey and white as well. Regardless of their coloration though, each are significantly better armed than the other beastkins with their leather garbs and a long knife as their main weapon of choice.

That’s right, this black pressuring mass was the strongest force under the Beastmen race, the Wolf Riders!