Reborn As A Beastman With A System

Logan flashed a warm smile as he addressed his companions. "That's exactly why, Tyton. Whenever you have free time, pick up a book. There's no harm in learning more; knowledge is always useful."

He gave Fenrir, his loyal wolf, a slight nudge. "Come on, boy, let's pick up the pace."

The wolf let out a soft growl of acknowledgment and quickened his stride, carrying them swiftly toward the tribe. Tyton and Begon exchanged bewildered glances behind their chief, the question hanging between them unspoken.

"In a book?" Tyton whispered, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Begon shrugged, more amused than confused. "Well, at this point, are you really surprised? With him, nothing seems impossible."

Meanwhile, back at the shipbuilding workshop, Elder Mary stood silently over the steam engine blueprint, running her fingers across its lines with a mix of wonder and skepticism.

"I don't understand how the chief managed to get his hands on something like this," she murmured, as if speaking to herself.

Her daughter, Bettingfer, leaned closer, frowning. "But, Mother, didn't the chief say he got it from a goblin? That's what he told us."

Mary chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That's just something he said to avoid further questions. A quick excuse."

Years of experience had taught Mary to recognize when someone was hiding something. Logan' words had been too smooth, too casual. He wasn't lying maliciously; just diverting their curiosity with a clever misdirection.

The elder's gaze turned serious as she shifted her attention to Astali, the snake-woman standing nearby. "Tell me, Chief Astali, what rank do you believe our young chief is at?"

Astali blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Rank? Well, when Logan took over the chieftainship, everyone said he was at the fourth level. That was only eight or nine months ago. Surely, it's impossible for him to be beyond that, right?"

Mary gave her a knowing look, her ancient eyes sharp and perceptive. "Are you so sure?"

Astali hesitated. "That's what the people say. Everyone believes it. It's not like he's ever shown signs of being stronger."

"People believe many things," Mary replied, her tone cryptic. "But that doesn't make them true. Strength can be hidden if one knows how."

She glanced back at the spot where Logan had casually demonstrated his fighting spirit earlier. Though it had been brief, nothing more than a flicker, Mary's experienced senses had picked up on something remarkable.

"For that brief moment, when he channeled his fighting spirit... I felt it," she said quietly. "And that aura was stronger than anything I've sensed in years, even stronger than my grandfather's."

Astali's breath caught. "You mean..."

Mary nodded gravely. "Logan isn't just at level six. He's beyond it, possibly level eight or even nine."

Astali's mind reeled. The idea seemed impossible, yet the elder's certainty shook her.

"But how?" Astali whispered. "How could he reach that level so quickly? It hasn't even been a year since he became chief."

Mary's gaze grew distant, as if recalling memories of her late grandfather, a powerful eighth-level warrior who had been the pride of the tribe. "I know what I sensed," she said firmly. "My grandfather was a level-eight warrior, and for more than a century, no one in our tribe came close to matching him, until now."

Astali's skepticism wavered. If Mary was right, then Logan' strength was beyond anything they could have imagined. And if that was the case, the young chief was more than just a brilliant mind, he was a force to be reckoned with.

"The stronger he is," Mary said softly, "the better our chances for survival. If Logan has truly reached such heights, then we are in good hands."

Bettingfer, though intrigued by the conversation, couldn't pull her attention away from the blueprint for long. The promise of the steam engine consumed her thoughts.

"Mother," she said eagerly, "now that we have the blueprint, we should gather the other shipbuilders immediately. We need to study this and start construction as soon as possible."

Mary smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm. "Yes, you're right." She turned back toward the workshop, her expression both determined and hopeful. "Let's not waste time. The sooner we build this engine, the sooner we can unlock its potential."

Bettingfer nodded eagerly. "I'll gather the builders right away."

Though the revelations about Logan' hidden strength lingered in their minds, the steam engine held a promise that could reshape their future. And with the blueprint now in their hands, there was no turning back.

As Bettingfer rushed off to rally the shipbuilders, Mary cast one last glance at the horizon, where Logan had disappeared on his wolf, Fenrir. A complicated mix of emotions stirred within her; admiration, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of fear.

Whatever secrets the young chief carried, one thing was certain: with his knowledge and strength, the tribe stood on the cusp of something extraordinary.

And now, with the steam engine within their grasp, the snake people were poised to chart a new course, one powered by ingenuity, steam, and the unyielding will of their enigmatic leader.

Astali stood quietly, watching as Elder Mary and Bettingfer departed with determination in their steps. For a moment, she was lost in thought, reflecting on the conversation that had just taken place.

Then, a small smile crept across her lips. 'The elder was probably right,' she thought. If anyone could leap from a lower rank to such incredible strength in mere months, it was Logan.

After all, Logan had proven himself to be more than just a chieftain, he was a man of remarkable intelligence, strategy, and foresight. If he dared to speak so confidently about steam engines and hidden technologies, it wasn't just empty bravado. His words carried the weight of someone who knew far more than he let on.

But then a more personal thought flickered through Astali's mind, one that stirred both curiosity and concern. 'What does he think of my daughter, Elizabeth?' she wondered. 'What kind of future awaits her with a man like Logan at the helm?'

Days passed swiftly, and the sun rose early over the docks, casting a warm glow across the newly completed 'Temple of Warriors'. This grand hall, built to honor the brave warriors who had laid down their lives for the tribe, stood proudly on the edge of town; a testament to the courage and sacrifice of generations past.

In the morning light, Logan led a procession of high-ranking tribal leaders toward the temple square. Among them were Begon, Reynolds, Kro, Bagan, Allen, Kodiak, Covos, and Astali. Each step they took toward the temple carried a sense of reverence. Today was a special day, a day to honor their fallen comrades.

"The construction took six months," Logan murmured as he gazed at the towering structure.

"Almost six months," Begon echoed beside him, his voice filled with quiet pride.

It had been a colossal undertaking, involving thousands of workers. The temple now stood as a beacon, a place of remembrance and respect, its walls silently telling the stories of the warriors who had fought and fallen for the tribe's survival.

The Temple of Warriors was truly an architectural marvel. The front hall alone stood at a height of '22 meters' in the center, with the sides reaching '18 meters'. At the heart of the structure lay the grand entrance, a gate flanked by towering wooden pillars that gave the building an air of solemn majesty.

Forty-five massive pillars, each hewn from the tallest trees of the forest, framed the temple's exterior. Nine of them marked the main entrance, with eighteen more lining each side of the hall. Initially, some had proposed carving the pillars from stone, but Logan had quickly dismissed the idea.

Stones of such height were nearly impossible to find and would have required an extraordinary amount of labor to transport and shape.

"Wood is strong enough," Logan had declared at the time. "And we have plenty of it in the forest."

Thus, the pillars were crafted from ancient trees, their natural beauty blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.

The front hall stretched '666 meters' in length and '222 meters' in width, a grand space large enough to house ceremonies and gatherings for the entire tribe. Beyond the front hall lay three smaller rear halls; places where the ashes of the fallen would be kept.

These sanctuaries could hold the urns of tens of thousands of warriors, ensuring that every hero who had fought for the tribe would be remembered.

"Let's go inside," Logan said, leading the group toward the grand staircase that rose before the temple gate.

The design of the temple had required careful planning. The landscape sloped slightly, which would have left the structure unbalanced. To solve this, Logan had suggested digging a wide ditch around the temple, initially intended as a waterway. But in the end, they had decided to use the trench differently, transforming it into a walkway that circled the temple like a protective moat.

To reach the entrance, visitors now had to climb 'ninety-nine wide steps', each with a shallow rise, making the ascent gradual and ceremonial.

"Though there are many steps, the climb isn't steep," Begon observed, trailing behind his nephew.

The others followed in quiet procession, their footsteps echoing against the stone as they made their way to the temple gate.

When they reached the top of the steps, the massive wooden gates of the temple stood open, revealing a group of orcs standing at attention within. The priests, dressed in ceremonial robes, bowed deeply as Logan approached.

"Greetings, Chief," they said in unison, their voices carrying the weight of tradition.

Logan smiled warmly, his gaze falling on the elder priest leading the group; a wise old wolf beastman named 'Luko', a fifth-level priest who had dedicated his life to serving the tribe's spiritual needs.

"Priest Luko," Logan greeted him, "I see the temple is finally complete. I've brought our people to take a look."

The old werewolf nodded, his expression calm and dignified. "Welcome, Chief. And welcome to all of you. Please, come in and see the temple for yourselves."

With a respectful bow, Luko stepped aside, and the other priests followed suit, parting to allow the chieftain and his entourage to enter.

Logan cast a quick glance at the priests, his sharp eyes noting their solemn demeanor. 'These priests really do see themselves as the guardians of this place,' he thought. Their devotion to the temple was apparent in every gesture, every movement.

The others followed his gaze, equally impressed by the priests' quiet reverence. The temple was more than just a building, it was a sanctuary, a sacred place where the memories of the tribe's greatest warriors would be preserved for generations to come.

With a sense of purpose, Logan stepped forward, leading his companions deeper into the heart of the Temple of Warriors. As they passed through the great gates, the weight of history seemed to settle over them like a mantle, reminding them of the sacrifices that had paved the way for their present.

This temple was not just a monument to the past; it was a promise to the future, a pledge that the courage and valor of their warriors would never be forgotten. And with leaders like Logan at the helm, the tribe would continue to grow, thrive, and honor those who had given everything to protect their people.

As the group explored the temple, Astali couldn't help but reflect on how far they had come and how much of that progress was owed to their young and enigmatic chief. With every new challenge, Logan seemed to rise higher, revealing hidden depths of knowledge and strength that left even seasoned leaders in awe.

She smiled to herself, thinking once more of her daughter, Elizabeth. 'What kind of life awaits her in a world shaped by a man like Logan?'

Whatever the answer, one thing was certain: with the temple standing tall and the tribe's future firmly in Logan' capable hands, they were ready to face whatever lay ahead. The steam engine, the Warrior's Temple, the tribe's unity; it was all connected, a testament to the power of knowledge, strength, and leadership.

And under Logan' watchful eye, the Silvermane tribe would not only survive, they would thrive.