Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Chapter 120: Strive for Development!

In the bustling world of guilds and commerce, apprentices in various life professions were levied a fee of ten silver coins, beginners a single gold coin, intermediates twenty, and those few who reached the advanced level faced a hefty fee of five hundred gold coins.

However, Logan, the shrewd mind behind the slave-collection ventures, had set his sights lower. His operations primarily targeted small to medium-sized orc tribesñ rarely more than ten thousand strong. It was a safe bet that such tribes lacked not only the resources but the advanced professionals who commanded such astronomical fees.

On the other end of the spectrum were the gargantuan tribes, teeming with tens of thousands. These tribes, rich in both resources and high-level professionals, were beyond the reach of any mere slave-hunting group. To target one would be folly; the royal court itself would swiftly intervene. Such audacity transcended mere hubris.

"A thousand gold coins? Are we to dismiss this as trivial?" Begon and Reynolds exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to align this figure with the nephew they thought they knew. Just months prior, the tribe had scrambled to gather a mere hundred gold coins; now, a thousand gold coins seemed but a drop in the bucket.

Logan, perceiving their astonishment, hastened to explain his recent venture, a lucrative alliance with the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce in Canyon City centered around the wine trade.

"Uncles, the plan is simple: we expand our population. By next year, I foresee our numbers swelling to at least 100,000," Logan declared confidently.

This bold prediction left Begon and Reynolds speechless once more. The prospect of earning tens of thousands of gold coins from next month's collaboration with the Windrunner Chamber of Commerce was staggering enough.

"But if the typical rainy seasons persist next year, large-scale population absorption will become challenging," Logan added with a note of caution.

His brother-in-law Gavas had shared unsettling rumors of a fire-type beast ascending to mythical status in the Black Wind Mountains, news that could jeopardize the annual rains from January to March that were crucial for quelling the wilderness famines.

Should the rains fail, the Silvermane Tribe would face a grim choice: wage war, devour, and plunder to grow.

"With our coffers now flush, we will expand not just the Canyon City winery but also our tribal winery. Trust me, uncles, our gold will only continue to multiply each month." Logan's eyes gleamed with the fierce determination of a man who had seen the future and meant to seize it.

"There's no merit in hoarding our gold coins, they come alive only when spent. The tribe must not save but spend with urgency to bolster our strength," Logan declared, his gaze firm as he addressed his uncles.

Begon paused, processing the weight of these words, then nodded in agreement.

"Absolutely!" he exclaimed, grasping the necessity of converting their gold into tangible tribal fortifications.

With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, Logan sent a space ring spiraling towards Begon. Catching the ring mid-air, Begon's eyes widened in surprise.

"uncle Begon, within this ring, you'll find two thousand gold coins. Use them to procure whatever our tribe needs. Return to me once the funds are depleted." As he spoke, Logan launched another ring towards his fifth uncle, Reynolds.

"This ring is for you, Uncle Reynolds. It holds no coins, but it offers something perhaps more valuable, convenience."

Both Begon and Reynolds couldn't hide their delight at receiving such prestigious items. Space rings were known luxuries, costing hundreds of gold coins each. The thought of owning one was beyond their ordinary expectations.

Begon, initially shocked by the generous sum entrusted to him, quickly embraced the reality. His nephew's assurance that the tribe's coffers would remain robust allowed him to focus on the potential improvements these funds could bring to their people.

Meanwhile, Reynolds, though his ring lacked gold, valued the strategic advantage it provided. The connection he felt to this powerful tool was immediate and profound.

Logan observed their reactions with quiet satisfaction. He had learned from Pleti, an elf from the Wind Walker Chamber of Commerce, about the utility of space rings. Planning ahead, he had negotiated a deal with Pleti to purchase twenty rings, each offering ten cubic meters of space, at a discounted rate of fifty gold coins each, half the usual price.

"I procured these rings because they redefine convenience," Logan explained, envisioning how they could transform logistical operations within the Silver Mane Tribe. "Such tools are pivotal, especially for our military. Imagine our warriors, unburdened by physical loads, able to carry ample supplies directly into battle.

No need for a logistical train, just readiness and resilience at our fingertips."

The strategic value was clear: in the hands of their leaders and warriors, these rings could dramatically enhance the tribe's mobility and effectiveness, ensuring that every gold coin spent was an investment towards an unassailable tribal strength.

"Uncle, is there anything else you need to discuss?" Logan inquired, shifting into a more relaxed posture as he noted the completion of the blood oath that solidified his uncles' brotherhood.

"My lord," Begon began, momentarily setting aside his astonishment over the space ring. He adopted a grave tone, reflecting the seriousness of their conversation. "Commanders Kro and Begon are proposing another expansion of our forces. Given our tribe now numbers over 20,000, our current military strength less than 3,000 troops which seems insufficient."

Logan pondered this. For a typical orc tribe of 20,000, mobilizing 10,000 warriors for battle was standard practice. The notion that 'every orc is a warrior' wasn't just a saying; it was a formidable reality that once prompted the Cross Royal Court to muster a significant force when they planned to invade the human kingdom.

This threat led to the unprecedented alliance of the three human kingdoms in response.

However, the dynamics within the Silver Mane Tribe were distinct. Under Logan's leadership, their warriors were professional soldiers, wholly dedicated to military duties, a practice that differentiated them from traditional orc tribes where warriors balanced combat roles with civilian tasks.

"We've implemented a conscription system tailored to our needs," Begon continued. "A small family contributes one warrior, while larger families provide two or more. If a family's only adult male is the father, we exempt them from conscription. This policy ensures no household is left vulnerable."

This approach had spurred a wave of enthusiasm among the male orcs of the tribe. The promise of being solely a warrior, unburdened by other responsibilities, was a coveted role. This was evident from the last recruitment drive when, out of over 10,000 tribesmen, between 6,000 and 7,000 eagerly volunteered for military service.

"The appeal of being a warrior is clear," Logan mused aloud. "It absolves them from other tribal duties and focuses their purpose." Explore more stories at m,v l'e-NovelFire

He understood why traditional orc tribes could rally such vast numbers to their cause. Their system was fluid: warriors donned armor and took up arms when needed, reverting to ordinary tribal life when the call to arms subsided.

"Our strategy," Logan concluded, "while more structured, not only strengthens our military capability but also solidifies our societal framework, ensuring every warrior's role is both respected and essential." He looked to his uncles, ready to further discuss the implications of their military expansion and its alignment with the tribe's broader aspirations.