Although they called it a eting, the discussion turned into nothing more than a boasting competition. All around him, Chief Lupan heard:
"Hohoho! We’ve truly stepped up our ga this year. None of you will be able to beat us!"
"I doubt that, Chief B’lark. Last year, we conquered your ga in commanding fashion. But this year, our friends within the human factions will show a complete reversal in our standings!"
"Hopefully a good change, right, Chief Lupan," said one Werewolf sarcastically.
Lupan sneered at the obvious snide remark. "Before you ask that, you should change your hygiene first. Your breath stinks, Chief Ourlo."
Laughter spread around the room as the bald Werewolf Chief turned around and tested his breath. After that, he dared not to say anything bad, fearing a foul sll would spread from his mouth.
"Oh by the way, I heard that you allied yourself with the Lionhearts, Chief Decker" ntioned one of the Werewolves.
They all turned towards a frail-looking Werewolf with bags under his eyes. He was the only one in this room who didn’t look like the typical Werewolf from fantasy dia.
Chief Decker nodded. "Yeah. By so luck, we managed to ally ourselves with them."
Many congratulated him, but Chief Lupan couldn’t help but let his eyebrows betray his true thoughts.
’Lionheart?! They got the Lionhearts as their allies?!’
The Lionheart na was well-known throughout the world, not just in the Royal Continent.
After all, the previous Sword King bore that na. He was a master of the most versatile weapon in the world, a sovereign in the Path of the Sword.
He was the Heavenly Knight of the sword, before he passed away and left his title to the current Heavenly Knight, the swordmistress Eldea.
The rest of the Lionheart family was not that far off from that reputation. Generation after generation, they were able to produce monstrous talents in the sword, and nothing but the sword. Many think they monopolized it.
And if Chief Decker, the leader of the Spined Fur tribe, allied with a family of that caliber, then it ant that they would have powerful swordsn by their side.
This only spelt nothing but doom for Chief Lupan’s plans.
’Damn it!’
He thought he would finally get a chance to triumph against the other tribes with the swordsman tournant in the Lunar Celebrations! But the damned Lionheart family completely ruined those plans.
"Chief Lupan, as I recall, you said that you wanted to do a swordsman tournant, right?" one of his fellow Chiefs asked.
"....that is correct," Lupan replied furtively.
"With the Spined Fur Tribe securing allyship with the Lionhearts, wouldn’t it be appropriate if they conducted the swordsman tournant?"
The other chiefs sitting at the table expressed their agreents with nods and hushed agreents.
Chief Lupan had no choice but to stay silent, which the others took to an as his consent.
"Then it is decided. Chief Decker, we anticipate a good swordsman tournant with the Lionhearts."
"Hear, hear!"
Chief Decker shyly accepted their congratulations, before he turned to Chief Lupan with an apologetic look.
"Sorry, Chief Lupan, for taking your competition."
Lupan pursed his lips, choosing not to say anything.
If he wanted to, he could have stood his ground and kept the swordsman tournant for his own tribe. But after hearing the news about the Lionhearts, he started to have doubts.
Even Jaku couldn’t defeat the Lionhearts all on his own. Their talents with the sword went beyond just ’speed’. It was sense, intuition, and everything else.
’Damn!’ Chief Lupan inwardly cursed.
"Ahem... let us not let a good ti distract us from our goals."
They all turned around and faced an old man, who was still clearly at the pri of his physical prowess. His stature was large, accentuated by his broad shoulders that took up almost half a spot on the chairs.
Upon his words, the eting slowly lulled into silence, as if they were all waiting for his next words.
No other Werewolf Chief commanded this much respect. After all, he was the Chief of the Fanged Moon, the strongest and most respected Werewolf tribe in their entire community.
"This Lunar Celebration is ant to bring us tribes closer to each other. Do not forget that the competitions are supposed to bring joy to us Werewolves and the moon."
"We will not forget, Chief Beawulf. You have reminded us for many years. But for what reason did you arrange this eting for?" asked one of the Chiefs.
They all turned to Chief Beawulf, stuck to the words he was about to stay. He was the reason they were all gathered here today.
"It is because I have received news from our holand. They are willing to give out a supply of Moonstone to the eventual winner of the Lunar Celebrations. Those that were placed from 1st to 3rd will receive the most, while those at the 10th and 11th place will receive the least. Unfortunately, this leaves the 12th place with nothing."
The Werewolf Chiefs were all excited upon hearing of the prize for this year’s Lunar Celebrations.
But for Chief Lupan, this was nothing more than salt on the wound.
The Brownblood Tribe was currently in 12th place, the bottom of the list.
He thought that this year’s Lunar Celebrations would allow him to advance at least a single digit up the rankings. He would have been satisfied with an 11th or even a 10th place finish.
Unfortunately, this didn’t seem all that possible now.
After all, the Spined Fur tribe led by Chief Decker and allied with the mighty Lionheart family, was in 11th place exactly.
If they wanted to go up the rank, they needed to defeat them in the Lunar Celebrations.
Gloom and doom entered into Chief Lupan’s wandering mind.
And before he knew it, the eting was over.
"What am I going to do?" he muttered as he returned to the Brownblood Tribe.
He had to abandon his plans to start a swordsman tournant, aning he had to think up an entirely new competition for the Lunar Celebrations.
To say this was a disadvantage was an understatent.
After all, he’d been planning for months before all of this. Now, he only had a few weeks to prepare for sothing entirely new.
He was basically helpless at this point.
...
...
...
anwhile, a day later, Michael approached Chief Lupan’s quarters for a little sales talk.
In his hands were none other than the phone he’d been planning to sell to the Werewolves.
This was exactly the reason why he wanted to create a connection with them. He wanted a new market for his phones.
However, even as he knocked three tis, the door still didn’t open.
This was quite strange as previously, Chief Lupan would have co out of his house even before he knocked. His hospitality for them was off the charts.
It was only after a few minutes later did a dejected Chief Lupan sauntered out the door, greeting Michael with a lifeless "...hey..."
Michael imdiately knew that sothing was wrong.
"What happened?" he asked.
Chief Lupan sighed, and began to recount the events of yesterday in great detail.
"I’m out of options," Chief Lupan pleaded.
But Michael wasn’t as dejected as the Werewolf Chief. In fact, he was quite curious.
"A new competition you say? How about Baseball?"
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