Reborn As A Beastman With A System

In the dead of night, the air was thick with the tension of the unknown.

Logan, the ever-vigilant leader, paced restlessly, his sleepless gaze alert. Beside him, Tyton, Cardia, and Gava mirrored his restlessness, fueled by the unease that rippled through their camp.

They gathered under the whispering shadows of ancient trees, sharing strips of dried meat provided by the Elf Prince, their conversation meandering from the desolate expanse of the wasteland to the rumored dangers beyond its borders.

Through the discourse, Logan gleaned insights into the northern stretches of the barren land and the perils that lay outside from Gava and Tyton. His thoughts were interrupted when Fenrir, the warg scout, approached him with a subdued urgency. Logan affectionately stroked Fenrir's coarse fur, puzzled by his presence. "It's been a long trek, my friend. What drives you to forsake rest at such an hour?"

Cardia's chatter ceased abruptly as all eyes turned toward Fenrir. The wolf, intelligent and perceptive, gently bit Logan's sleeve, tugging insistently.

Logan, taken aback, inquired, "What troubles you, Fenrir?"

Despite his formidable strength and endurance, even Fenrir, a formidable fourth-level creature, would be wearied by their arduous journey, burdened by the gear weighing him down.

As Logan rose, Fenrir shifted his stance, his gaze piercing the darkness as he issued a deep, ominous growl.

At Fenrir's signal, all but Gava sprang into action. Cardia and Teton looked expectantly at Logan, who now wore a grave expression. "Quick, rouse everyone. Arm yourselves and be ready to defend!"

With a sharp nod of understanding, Tyton dashed to awaken the resting beastmen warriors while Cardia hurried to alert the guards stationed around their perimeter.

Meanwhile, Gava, the boar-like beastman, looked on in bewilderment. "Sir, what's amiss?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Logan surveyed the shrouded landscape, his eyes searching the darkness. "We might be in the crosshairs of a hunter," he declared with a chilling certainty.

Despite their superior night vision, the darkness could hide threats too distant to discern. Gava's eyes widened, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. "I'll wake my troops immediately!" With newfound resolve, he prepared to rally his comrades, knowing an enemy might be lurking in the inky shadows.

As Gava hastily departed to muster his forces, Tyton returned with a sense of urgency painted across his face.

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"Master, I've checked with all the guards. Nothing out of the ordinary was reported," Tyton informed Logan, his voice carrying a respectful undertone.

"Yet, Fenrir's senses are far keener than ours; his alarm cannot be unfounded," Tyton added, nodding towards the warg, whose instincts were rarely wrong.

Logan nodded thoughtfully, his mind racing with possibilities.

At that moment, the Elf Prince, roused from his slumber, approached with a mix of concern and royal composure. "What is amiss, leader Logan?" he inquired, his voice smooth yet filled with apprehension.

"Just a precaution, Your Highness. I detected some minor disturbances in the shadows. We are still assessing the situation," Logan reassured him with a calm smile, hoping to ease the prince's evident anxiety.

The Elf Prince exhaled a relieved sigh but his eyes betrayed his lingering fears. His own guards were gravely wounded, his magical reserves depleted. Though he had regained some strength, full recovery would take days.

Cardia soon joined them, her expression serious. "Master, all our people are now vigilant and stationed around the perimeter."

"Good. Have them maintain their positions and stay alert, but tell them not to engage unless necessary," Logan instructed, his tone authoritative yet cautious.

"Yes, sir!" Cardia responded with a brisk nod before departing to relay the orders.

Turning to Fenrir, Logan gently patted the beast's robust head. "Do you sense a presence? Lead me there."

With a discerning nod, Fenrir set off towards the east, his steps sure and silent. Logan, not wasting a moment, unslung his crossbow, priming it as he moved.

Tyton followed closely, his own weapon ready.

Curiosity piqued, the Elf Prince decided to accompany them, his gaze lingering on the rocky terrain they navigated.

The rock plateau they traversed was modest in size but strategically elevated, surrounded by steep rock steps that gave them a commanding view of their surroundings.

Soon, they reached the eastern crest. Below them, the terrain fell away into steep, shadowy declines that in the dark seemed to stretch into oblivion.

As Fenrir intently scanned the horizon, Logan too strained his eyes, trying to discern shapes within the rocky terrain, where only boulders of varying hues broke the monotony of the landscape.

"Sir, have you seen anything amiss?" the Elf Prince inquired, his voice tinged with urgency as he peered into the enveloping darkness, a sense of foreboding gnawing at him.

"Nothing clear yet; it's too dark to make out any details," Logan replied, shaking his head in frustration.

Though unsure of an immediate threat, Logan trusted Fenrir's instincts, which rarely erred towards complacency.

"Allow me to assist," offered the Elf Prince suddenly, his tone resolute.

Logan turned to him, puzzled by his declaration. The Elf Prince extended his arms, and a radiant glow of red energy began to emanate from him, casting eerie shadows around.

Logan realized with awe, "Fire magic?"

Indeed, the Elf Prince was a fifth-level mage, proficient in the manipulation of fire. As he concentrated, a dazzling red hexagram materialized in the sky above.

Suddenly, panic erupted from below. "They have mages, flee!" Shouts pierced the air, accompanied by the clatter of armor and the scrambling of feet, a clear sign of enemies hidden beneath their vantage point.

As Logan and his group watched, the implications dawned on them: they had been the targets of an ambush.

Without warning, orbs of fire, large as footballs, burst from the hexagram, hurtling towards the ground like blazing meteors. The night was abruptly illuminated, as if by daylight, revealing the scrambling figures of their adversaries below.

But it was too late for evasion. The fireballs crashed into the earth with thunderous impacts, bursting upon contact like giant incendiary bombs. The explosions sent shockwaves through the area, the light revealing a chaotic scene of enemies now exposed by the sudden inferno.

As the inferno unleashed by the Elf Prince's magic engulfed the landscape, the air was pierced with cries of agony. Figures desperately flailed, their forms silhouetted against the blazing rocks that now served as fiery pyres.

"Ah!!"

"It hurts so much!!!"

"Help, put out the fire quickly!!!"

From a distance, Logan watched as several enemies, transformed into living torches, writhed amidst the flames. The scene was horrific, a grim testament to the raw and devastating power of magic.

Within seconds, what was once a covert hiding spot for their adversaries had turned into a blazing inferno, screams of pain and terror mingling with the chaos of retreat.

Amidst the tumult, the Elf Prince's complexion turned deathly pale, and he swayed on his feet. A quick-reacting Elf guard caught him just before he could collapse.

Logan, concerned, looked over at the stricken prince. "Is he alright?"

"He's just severely depleted his magical energies, but he'll recover," the guard reassured him, his voice steady despite the crisis.

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on the prince with a mix of respect and worry.

The enemies, believing they faced a formidable mage, dared not reengage, retreating into the darkness until the break of dawn.

As the early morning light crept across the battlefield, Logan surveyed the aftermath within the confines of the scorched magic circle. The power of the Elf Prince's magic was unmistakably lethal; no fewer than eleven foes had been reduced to mere ashes.

By morning, as the group prepared to set out, the Elf Prince, though visibly drained, had regained consciousness, his strength slowly returning.

Their journey resumed, and by noon, they had reached the rugged expanse of Kasros Canyon, the scene of last night's fiery confrontation fading behind them as they marched forward.

"Is this Kasros Canyon?" Logan gasped in awe.

To anyone familiar with the locals like Logan and his band of beastmen, their expressions must have looked downright comical, akin to country bumpkins stepping into a bustling metropolis for the first time. Logan knew it was a sight, but he couldn't help himself.

Having traveled through, Logan had never witnessed the architectural marvels or the natural grandeur of his original world, earth. Yet, nothing there could have prepared him for the breathtaking vista of Kasros Canyon, which now stood boldly etched in his memory as the most spectacular sight he had ever seen.

Though they were still a couple of miles out, the plains around the canyon teemed with life. Thousands of merchants, mercenaries, and wanderers converged from all directions. Some were bustling towards the canyon, eager for whatever prospects awaited them, while others were departing, their business concluded, or fortunes made.

"Is this your first time coming to the canyon?" the Elf Prince asked, approaching Logan with a curious tilt of his head.

"It's the first time," Logan admitted without a hint of reservation. His wide-eyed wonder, mirrored by Tyton beside him, made any attempt at playing it cool utterly futile.

ssw