The echo of the "TRIBAL" cry still vibrated through the mountains when the fight ended.
Dust settled slowly over the valley before Luparia's walls, coating the cracked earth and scattered remnants of battle. Broken weapons lay half-buried in the soil, and black demonic ichor seeped into the ground where the obsidian guardians had crushed the invaders. The last of the demons fled toward the horizon, chased by the swift shadows of the shadow elves and the distant flight of valkyries patrolling the skies.
Above them, the mountains watched in silence.
In the center of the field, Byron and the Zerai leader stood face to face.
The circle of obsidian shards that had risen from the ground during their duel still marked the earth—a perfect ring of black stone glowing faintly in the dying light of the afternoon sun. The fragments hummed with quiet energy, as if the earth itself remembered the battle that had just taken place.
For several long seconds, no one spoke.
Then, with a slow metallic groan that echoed through the valley, Luparia's massive iron gates swung open wide.
The sound rolled across the valley like thunder.
The Zerai warriors approached the bridge.
Despite their exhaustion, they walked with shoulders squared and heads held high. Their armor was battered, their bodies marked with dust and blood, but there was no sign of defeat in their posture. To them, retreat was not shameful if it meant surviving to fight again.
The Zerai crossed the stone bridge with steady steps.
Inside the fortress courtyard, dozens of eyes watched them.
The lycans stood in calm silence along the walls, arms folded across their chests, their golden eyes measuring the newcomers without fear.
The dwarves watched with open wariness, their thick fingers resting on the handles of axes and warhammers.
The forest elves whispered quietly among themselves, their long ears twitching at every unfamiliar movement.
And the shadow elves observed with dangerous curiosity, their dark eyes gleaming as if they were already imagining how the Zerai might fight in a real war.
At the gate, Claude waited with the old forest priestess.
The draconian stood tall and unmoving, his bronze scales catching the fading sunlight as he studied the newcomers with calm calculation.
Finally, he spoke.
"I think we all want to know the same thing."
His voice carried easily across the courtyard.
His golden gaze settled on the Zerai leader.
"What exactly was that out there?"
The warrior let out a deep laugh.
"That," he said simply, "was Tribal."
Confused glances spread across the courtyard.
Lars scratched his beard.
"Tribal?"
The Zerai leader nodded.
"The Zerai do not follow kings."
He struck his chest with a clenched fist.
"We do not respect age."
His gaze swept briefly across the elven leaders.
"We do not respect wisdom."
Then he turned calmly toward the priestess.
"We do not even bow to the Earth Mother."
The elder raised a single eyebrow but remained silent.
"We recognize only two things."
He lifted one finger.
"Strength."
Then another.
"And honor in battle."
The courtyard grew quiet.
The words hung in the air like a challenge.
"Tribal is our law," the Zerai continued.
"When we encounter another clan strong enough to stand beside us… we challenge their leader."
He pointed at Byron.
"If that leader proves worthy… we follow him."
Lars grunted.
"That explains why half the clans on this continent hate your people."
A nearby dwarf muttered:
"They ignore treaties."
An elf added coldly:
"They cross borders like they don't exist."
The Zerai shrugged.
"If a clan is weak… why should we listen to them?"
A ripple of uneasy murmurs spread through the crowd.
Elbron watched the exchange with faint amusement.
"I must admit," he said smoothly, "your philosophy is… refreshingly honest."
Claude turned toward Byron.
"This could cause problems."
The courtyard fell silent again.
Every eye turned toward the lycan leader.
Byron stepped forward.
His gaze moved slowly across the Zerai warriors.
Then across the gathered clans of Luparia.
"They are welcome here."
Several heads snapped up.
"What?" Lars barked.
Even a few lycans shifted slightly in surprise.
Byron raised his hand.
The courtyard fell silent immediately.
"Listen carefully."
His eyes turned toward the Zerai leader.
"If you cause trouble here… if you threaten the peace of this city…"
His voice became colder.
"I will eliminate you myself."
The Zerai leader did not appear offended.
Instead, he smiled broadly.
"Of course."
He gestured toward the ground beneath them.
"You are the master of these lands."
He inclined his head slightly.
"How could I come here demanding anything without respecting that first?"
Claude nodded slowly.
"Then the rules are clear."
At that moment, a lycan captain approached with several guards.
"We have prepared a district where your people may settle," she said.
One of the guards spread a map across a stone table.
Claude examined it.
Then frowned.
"There?"
The captain nodded.
"Near the human quarter."
The tension in the courtyard sharpened instantly.
Several dwarves stiffened.
A few elves exchanged glances.
But no one spoke.
Then Byron spoke calmly.
"They will not harm anyone."
Claude looked at him.
"How can you be certain?"
Byron pointed at the Zerai leader.
"Because he won't allow it."
The warrior lifted an eyebrow.
"And why would that be?"
Byron's lips curved slightly.
"Because your family lives there."
The courtyard froze.
Claude leaned forward.
"Explain."
The Zerai leader sighed.
"So you did remember."
Curious glances moved between them.
"The human woman who raised this wolf."
Many present knew the story.
The woman Byron had rescued years ago.
The one who had given him shelter when he had nowhere else to go.
"After he saved her," the Zerai continued, "she married a human soldier."
"They had two children."
Claude frowned.
"And that concerns you how?"
The Zerai smiled.
"One of those children was my father."
Silence exploded across the courtyard.
Lars blinked.
"Wait."
"You mean—"
The Zerai nodded.
"Yes."
He jerked his thumb toward Byron.
"That old wolf is basically family."
He stretched his arms casually.
"Guess I'll go visit my aunts and cousins. Haven't seen them in years."
Then he looked at Byron.
"Right, grandfather?"
Claude froze.
Lars' jaw dropped.
Even the elves were speechless.
Byron stared at him for a moment.
Then shook his head slowly.
"You're going to cause trouble again."
The Zerai leader burst into laughter.
High above them, the obsidian guardians stood motionless.
But beneath the fortress…
the earth pulsed softly.
A slow, deep vibration.
As if the mountains themselves had listened…
and approved.