Chapter 111: Fisa—Both Clever and Cunning!

Leo, uneasy about Fisa, climbed up a tall tree at the highest point of the valley and witnessed the extraordinary scene from afar. Although the distance was too great to hear any sound clearly and the view was blurry, Leo could roughly piece together what was happening.

Who would have imagined that the black-furred dog-headed men would switch sides at the last moment after just a few words from Fisa? Truly, she was a child of the realms; the dog bodies trembled, their aura of dominance dissipated, and all who saw them bowed their heads in submission!

Just as Leo was overjoyed, he saw the black-furred dog-headed men, who had cooperated with Fisa to annihilate the boar men, bow respectfully to their new tribe leader, only to be immediately expelled by Fisa.

Abandoned in an instant, the black-furred dog-headed men could only look back at Fisa repeatedly with sorrowful whimpers as they returned to the boar men’s lair.

When Fisa returned to the valley camp, Leo angrily accused her, “They’ve clearly surrendered and even helped you wipe out the boar men; why do you drive them away?”

Every additional hundred dog-headed men meant a hundred fewer enemies on the other side! When one side gains, the other loses—this would tip the scales of victory in their favor.

Fisa replied indifferently, “I regret it now.”

Leo was furious. “How can you go back on your word?”

Fisa looked at Leo as if he were a fool and answered innocently, “I’m just a dog-headed man! Aren’t you being a bit too hard on me?”

Leo scratched his head, speechless.

Indeed, even so-called civilized humans are full of deceit and treachery; how could one expect a dog-headed man to keep his word?

Sure enough, without morality, there is no burden of moral obligation! And you say it so smoothly—you must have been rehearsing that in your mind for a long time!

Seeing Leo at a loss, Fisa grinned like a puppy who had just stolen some treats. “Woof woof woof! There are too few boar men and too many gnollers. Becoming my tribe members requires more sacrifice!”

Leo didn’t know what Fisa was thinking but could only shake his head with a sigh and continued urging the refugees to dig trenches in preparation for the final battle.

Leo vented his anger on the remaining dog-headed men by ordering their guards to lay down their weapons and help the human refugees dig trenches.

These dogs were still happily playing, competing on the hillside to see who could roll the farthest. Upon receiving the order, they were utterly bewildered.

Yet none resisted; they all obediently jumped into the trenches and worked diligently.

Leo Mundo, the ruthless commander of the Hala Minor Alliance known as the Dog Biter, issued commands that the dog-headed men dared not defy.

Passed down through generations, the elder dog-headed men had already sung of Leo as a god of war who devoured dogs without leaving bones behind!

All the dog-headed guards were former miners, their strength and endurance far surpassing that of the refugees. Each was like a small excavator, plowing deep trenches throughout the valley.

Meanwhile, the black-furred dog-headed men returned to the boar men’s lair as dusk fell.

The gnoll chieftain glared at them. With no golden-furred dog-headed men nor any boar men behind them, he snapped, “Where are the boar men? Where are the golden-furred ones?”

“The boar men are dead, and the golden-furred have left,” the black-furred dog-headed leader replied, shrinking back.

“You fools! Useless! Worthless! Tonight, I will eat all your younglings!” The gnoll chieftain fumed.

Regretting having eaten too many dog-headed younglings the previous night, which had dulled his mind and caused poor decisions, the gnoll chieftain raised his flail in anger.

Before he could strike, the black-furred dog-headed leader held up a wooden barrel he had been clutching.

“The golden-furred refused to submit but sent a gift!” he said.

The gnoll chieftain sniffed the barrel, about the size of a human head, weighing it in his hand. It was sealed tight.

“What is this?” he asked.

The black-furred dog-headed man pointed to a small hole in the barrel. “A treasure! A great treasure! If you light it here, you can see the ancestors!”

The gnoll chieftain placed the barrel on the table, and all the gnoll leaders gathered around, eager for a share.

Among the wild tribes, shamanism prevailed; everyone longed to see their ancestors and seek guidance.

Before the gnolls could figure out the secret, the black-furred dog-headed leader lit a torch and brought it close to the hole.

The next moment, a deafening explosion rocked the entire gnoll chieftain’s camp, sending it flying into the air. The black-furred leader who lit the fuse and all the gnoll chiefs were launched skyward.

Following Leo’s advice, Fisa had added iron pellets to the powder barrel, turning it into a large grenade.

Dozens of grape-sized iron pellets sprayed out, shredding everyone nearby.

Poor black-furred dog-headed men—having just become leaders, they were torn apart amid the wilderness’s treacheries.

But they gave their lives to secure the future of their tribe.

The boar men’s lair descended into chaos. With their leader gone, the gnolls wailed and howled. The strongest among them seized the opportunity to rally supporters and claim the chieftain’s throne.

The remaining black-furred dog-headed men, hearing the commotion, grabbed their younglings and set fires everywhere.

Then, amidst the chaos, they fled the lair, following Fisa’s scent directly to the valley where Leo was.

The new tribe leader declared that killing dozens of boar men was no great feat.

They had to cause a major uproar in the boar men’s lair, teach the gnolls a harsh lesson, and demonstrate their power before the new tribe would accept them.

Blowing up the entire gnoll command system and burning the boar men’s lair to ashes was quite the spectacle.

The black-furred dog-headed men fled joyfully, already dreaming of a bright future.

As long as they had a single deer antler cassava a day, endured fewer than a hundred lashes, and their young were not eaten, they vowed to follow the new leader to the death!

The next morning, after the fires in the boar men’s lair had died down, a new gnoll chieftain emerged through endless duels and assassinations.

He led the gnolls who had lost everything, along with the remaining boar men, in pursuit of the traitorous black-furred dog-headed men.

The once vast mixed tribe, which had surpassed eleven hundred members, was now halved: over four hundred gnolls and just over a hundred boar men.

Of course, the younglings who could not hunt were never counted in the total population. Hundreds of gnoll pups were mercilessly abandoned amid the ruins of the boar men’s lair.

With no supplies left, the gnoll tribe could not support so many younglings and simply discarded them.

If they caught the fleeing black-furred dog-headed tribe, they might consider feeding the younglings again.

But only if the pups did not first fall victim to beasts or starvation.

Nearly six hundred gnolls and boar men stormed into the valley.

Awaiting them were countless dog-headed men scattered across the hillsides, wild folk lurking in the woods, and a hundred human shield bearers arrayed deep within the valley.

Though the total number of the enemy was unknown, it certainly did not exceed their own.

Any hesitation or cowardice would only further jeopardize the already precarious position of the new chieftain.

The newly appointed gnoll chieftain wasted no time and let out a war howl, ordering all his people to charge.

As the gnolls surged forward, the Basaka longbowmen hidden in the forest released their arrows.