Chapter 116: Everything Can Be a Doge!

These gnoll pups, currently in the midst of shedding, were mostly unsightly, with patchy, matted fur and bald spots. Only a small fraction had finished molting; their coats were as colorful as a leopard's, and their facial structures were beginning to take on a more ferocious shape, finally bearing some resemblance to the terrifying gnolls they were destined to become.

There were over a hundred of them. Fisa had captured every single one, stuffing them into several large woven baskets to bring back. Struggling, she hoisted a large basket full of gnoll pups and ran over to Leo to show off.

"Look! New kobolds!"

Leo felt a wave of suffocation and snapped, "Those are gnolls!"

"Not gnolls! New kobolds!"

Fisa was also angry. She struck a combat pose, baring her teeth and snarling at Leo in a standoff. However, her confidence was clearly wavering, and her eyes darted around nervously. After burying her head in thought for a long time, she finally put to use the imperial language she had learned from Olivia and the little mouse. The clever Fisa racked her brains and finally coined a new term.

"They are ferocious kobolds!" Fisa declared with conviction. "Big kobolds! Ferocious kobolds! Golden-furred kobolds! Black-furred kobolds! They have been my kin since ancient times!"

Good heavens! You’re even using imperial high-speak in front of me!

Leo felt a sense of despair; his cultural level was inferior to Fisa's, leaving him unable to argue with her. At the same time, he grew cautious, realizing that a human should not get into a debate with a dog, or they would lose from the very start. Leo decided to keep his cool.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Ah, yes, yes, you are absolutely right! After all, everything can be a kobold; perhaps even I am one of your kin."

Fisa’s eyes lit up, her gaze darting between Leo’s golden hair and her own golden-furred kobold honor guard, trying to find a commonality.

Leo roared, "Get lost!"

Fisa scurried away with her new kin, looking quite dejected. Yet, she was also secretly thrilled—as long as Leo didn't adamantly oppose it, it was as good as tacit approval!

In truth, Leo understood Fisa’s childish and absurd behavior. The expansion of the Riverbend’s population and the growth of its strength had deeply unsettled this clever kobold. Though she lacked a clear, articulate concept and could not voice her worries, this sense of crisis born from an imbalance of power had been swirling in her subconscious, driving her to desperately expand her own tribe. Unable to find new kobold tribes in the short term, and with her own pups neither numerous enough nor growing fast enough, Fisa could only resort to unconventional methods, preemptively labeling other similar races as her own kin. She couldn't think of any other way.

As rulers of the Riverbend, Ulyan and Leo were both well-disposed toward the kobolds, but what if a different leader were to take charge? Someone like Vichi, whose family had been slaughtered by other races and who harbored deep hatred for all wilderness tribes? Or perhaps an outside lord who would want to purge the kobolds just to demonstrate his martial prowess? And then there was the iron mine in the Kobold Valley—the primary economic pillar of the entire Riverbend—could anyone truly not be tempted by it?

Compared to Ulyan and Leo, who worried about the valley changing hands, Fisa was the one truly filled with terror. She had to do everything in her power to expand her strength, compete for influence in the Riverbend, and elevate her status. Bringing the gnoll pups to show off to him was, in reality, a plea for support. After all, she had few allies, and Leo was the most powerful one.

To some extent, Fisa’s words weren't entirely baseless. Though this alien race was called gnolls, their build and fur made them look more like hyenas. Calling them "hyena-folk" rather than gnolls—and classifying them as a type of dog—didn't seem entirely wrong.

After searching across the mountains and plains, the bodies of all their fallen companions, both human and dog, were recovered and laid out in rows in the valley clearing. The funeral was held at dusk. The firewood and deadwood they had gathered and chopped were piled into two massive pyres—one for the human remains and one for the kobolds.

In the North, cremation and burial were both practiced; if conditions allowed, they were buried; if not, they were cremated. "Conditions" meant having a safe, stable settlement, free from the threat of large beasts or scavengers, and possessing a cemetery where the fallen could sleep eternally. Those without such luxuries—the nomadic or weak tribes—were so precarious themselves that they had no place to settle. Rather than letting the bodies of their kin be dug up and eaten by beasts, they preferred to burn them. Some skulls and thigh bones that didn't burn completely were even crushed by the clansmen to prevent scavengers from dragging them away. In the North, "grinding bones to dust" was not a term of malice.

Beyond cremation and burial, Storm Fjord—where Olynik was from—and the coastal Pishnik also practiced water burial, wrapping bodies like zongzi and tossing them into the great rivers or the sea. This was completely at odds with the customs of the South, where only burial was permitted. In the South, the dead's body held the same rights as the living's, and any act of disposing of a corpse was considered a grave desecration. It was viewed as an evil ritual of pagans, and cremation, in particular, was the primary method for executing heretics.

Though the Riverbend Territory could currently defend itself, once outside the peninsula, the world still belonged to beasts and alien races. After a brief discussion, the leaders decided to cremate the fallen and carry only their ashes back for final interment. At the funeral, Leo gave a brief eulogy and prayer, and all the humans mourned in silence.

The kobolds, meanwhile, stared blankly, sniffing the sorrow and the scent of cooked meat in the air. While drooling, they felt a complex emotion they had never experienced before. Only the ogres thought the humans were crazy; all that meat, what a waste to burn it!

With the funeral over and a night's rest taken, the troops set off for home. Before departing, Fisa stood on high ground and announced loudly to her kin: "Clever Fisa, leading the kobolds, together with allies and neighbors, defeated the terrible gnolls! I am the King of Kobolds!"

All the golden-furred and black-furred kobolds let out a thunderous cheer. The valley was filled with barks, brimming with fanatical worship of Fisa. Following their previous victory over the terrifying boar-men, the kobolds, under Fisa's leadership, had once again joined forces with the humans to defeat the terrible gnolls!

"We and the humans together, we slaughtered the gnolls!"

The humans, who served as the primary combat force, were also thrilled by the victory. The Wolf-Tooth wildlings had avenged their families, and the Riverbend infantry had eliminated the threat of an alien invasion. The refugee crossbowmen, having participated in the thrilling battle and witnessed the Riverbend’s formidable power, felt a much stronger sense of belonging. Everyone was in high spirits and excellent moods.

While the adults could maintain their composure, suppress their emotions, and keep to basic marching order, the kobolds ignored all of that, prancing and singing all the way home. The chaotic kobold horde drifted around the main body of the army, catching rats or insects to present to their human friends. Some even decapitated the gnolls or boar-men and, keeping the fur attached, fashioned them into animal-head fur cloaks, much like the wolf-skin or bear-skin helmets of the wildlings. Even with the blood still wet, they wore them on their heads to scare their companions, and they never tired of it, even when they were nearly pelted by terrified comrades.

They sang the "Kobold Song"—composed by a kobold shaman with lyrics by their leader, Fisa—as they headed home, spreading joy to every corner.

"Kobolds are brave! Kobolds are great! Woof, woof, woof!"
"Dogs and humans, fight side by side! Woof, woof, woof!"
"Ogres are friends, they never eat dogs! Woof, woof, woof!"
"We beat the boar-men, they cried for their moms! Woof, woof, woof!"
"We beat the gnolls, they ran to their dads! Woof, woof, woof!"

Two days later, amidst a chorus of barks—and having lost at least ten dogs along the way—the Riverbend Allied Forces finally arrived home with all their spoils of war.