Thane and his companions walked slowly across the deep green grass carpeting the plains and low hills of Howl. In the distance before them stood BloodClaw Fortress. The wind swept across the grasslands, carrying the scent of rice, wild grass, and crops, bringing Thane a strange and familiar sense of home.

  From afar, massive packs of gray wolves could be seen moving about, yet they were nothing like ordinary wild wolves. Their eyes gleamed with intelligence. This was the defining trait of Howl in particular and of the BloodClaw clan as a whole. The wolves of the BloodClaw territory were descendants of Vargan, the war mount of Reddan. Bearing the bloodline of a Epic rank beast, the wolves of BloodClaw were far stronger and far more intelligent than common wolves.

  Hunting wolves here was strictly forbidden. The people of BloodClaw cherished their wolves deeply. Every BloodClaw child, upon reaching adulthood, had to conquer a wolf and claim it as a mount. Failure to do so was considered a disgrace. The coming of age ceremony was held when the moon rose high, full and flawless, the time when wolves scattered across the land gathered at the BloodMoon Hills to absorb the energy radiating from the moonlight and increase their strength. This was the moment when a wolf reached the pinnacle of its power, and also the moment when a BloodClaw child had to challenge it with bare hands.

  "Wolves from all directions are gathering at BloodMoon Hills. The Blood Moon Festival is about to begin. It is a once in a lifetime event for BloodClaw. " Mira hopped about excitedly as she spoke, then suddenly remembered something. Her mood fell, and she fell silent, her eyes watching Thane with unease.

  Thane sighed. Ever since that incident, she had looked at him as if he were a monster. Her actions and words now carried fear and reverence that had not been there before. He truly disliked this. It made him feel stifled and uncomfortable.

  "Stop acting like that. It is already over. Just behave the way you always did. I am not going to eat you." Thane said irritably.

  Vogar paid little attention to them. What truly concerned him were the massive wolf packs moving alongside them. Each wolf was as large as a bull. They watched him silently, growling low, their fangs sharp and gleaming. Vogar swallowed hard. It was a surreal scene. If these wolves were to lose control and attack, there would be only one possible ending for them all.

  "Do not worry! They will not bite." Thane replied calmly, his expression untroubled.

  Almost instinctively, Thane raised his hand and rubbed the fur of a wolf that passed by. The wolf was startled at first, but after studying Thane closely, it seemed to recognize something. It leaned closer, sniffed him to confirm, then rubbed its head against his chest before continuing on with the pack.

  "You can actually do that." Vogar stared wide eyed at Thane after that reckless act.

  "I do not know either. It was just a reflex. Luckily, it did not attack us." Thane replied casually.

  "You are insane. Do not ever do that again." Vogar said in fear.

  Before setting out, Vogar had always believed himself to be the strongest among them. A young warlord. A man who possessed an Ability. He had not thought this journey would be dangerous in any way. Yet after constant exposure to that unsettling father and son pair and these enormous wolves, he began to doubt his own strength. Perhaps this journey was a turning point for him. A lesson in life that would make him more humble and mature.

  Thane clenched his arm. He had once killed a wild wolf in the forest near the Rumi town. When the wolf died, he felt a faint but lingering sorrow. Perhaps fate bound him to this species. He seemed able to understand what wolves were thinking. Savage wild wolves did not show it clearly, but when he touched the calm wolf earlier, he could almost feel its emotions.

  Thane looked toward the distant fortress with anticipation. Perhaps the moment when he would learn the truth of his origins was not far away.

  BloodClaw Fortress grew increasingly lively as people gathered from all directions. Beautiful young women in green garments drifted about like wisps of smoke. Tall youths with skin dark as bronze and muscles like forged steel stood proudly among the crowd. Arrogant half dragons appeared as well, their dragon scales shimmering across their skin. Warriors from other tribes also arrived, a gesture of respect and congratulations for the coming of age of BloodClaw’s new generation.

  Inside the chieftain’s chamber at the highest place of the fortress, Ramos drank and celebrated alongside representatives of other tribes, welcoming a new era for Ossa. An era unlike any before, an age Ramos called the age of progress.

  Seated beside Ramos were Melor and Jacor, two old foxes from Two Hands and the Triangle Order, along with four representatives of the remaining tribes. Jacor’s presence needed no explanation. Ramos had cooperated with Foogger in many dealings, most notably hiring mercenaries for small scale conflicts in Noland. The wolf cavalry of BloodClaw was the very nightmare of the Orcs there.

  Jacor coveted Ossa’s specialized military forces. According to post battle reports from Ceasar, these units could grant him significant advantages in a chaotic land like Noland, where countless races clashed constantly.

  The massive IronRhino warriors possessed terrifying defensive power, able to hurl enormous stones and turn them into projectiles of devastating force. The elusive GreenAssassins were masters of deception, perfectly suited for scouting, intelligence work, and assassination. The wolf cavalry was swift and ferocious, endowed with extraordinary strength, ideal for guerrilla warfare and kiting attacks. Most notable of all were the powerful half dragons, versatile and overwhelming, capable of flight and perfectly suited for large scale battles and direct assaults. As for NightWing and SilverFang, Jacor could not interfere with them.

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  After the battle between Hesmor and Golden, GoldenFang was restored to its original name, SilverFang. The warriors of SilverFang possessed strong resistance to fire and could move swiftly across harsh terrain and climates such as the Infernic Range. However, once away from their homeland, they were far less formidable. SilverFang had now become a small tribe that had lost both its bagde and its leader, relying on Two Hands and surviving by gathering and trading Cerberus droppings.

  Even so, they remained part of Ossa. That was why Melor appeared here, acting as SilverFang’s representative at this gathering, despite knowing well that Jacor was far from pleased by his presence.

  "Today is a joyous day for BloodClaw. As the vice chieftain of BloodClaw, I am deeply honored to welcome all brothers and sisters who have come here. Of course, that includes our friends and ... our distinguished guests."

  Ramos himself did not look pleased to see Melor. He was a shrewd man. Although Melor had successfully seized GoldenFang territory and captured three major fortresses of Allblack, Ramos knew that the Triangle Order was far stronger. They had nearly monopolized Hesmor and even manipulated the True Emperor, Aster. Ramos did not wish to make enemies with anyone. Compared to them, he was merely a representative, not the true chieftain of BloodClaw. His policy in cooperating with both factions was one of flexibility. Even though he leaned slightly toward Jacor, outwardly he always strove to appear neutral.

  Ramos drained his cup of Meli wine and spoke loudly.

  "Everyone seated here today are key figures of Ossa’s future. I invited you here not only to celebrate the coming of age of BloodClaw’s younger generation, but also to unify with you on a bold policy, one that could change Ossa forever for the better."

  The hall fell silent as all listened. Ramos had clearly succeeded in stirring their curiosity.

  "Ossa has always been branded as barbaric because we lack knowledge. We were manipulated by Richer and turned into his pawns for the same reason. Knowledge is the key. It is the turning point that allows us to rise and grow. So how do we obtain knowledge. We study. Where do we study. We study at the best place. What I speak of is the Great Will Academy."

  Jacor frowned. Even in a cooperative relationship with Ramos, he disliked being used by others. Indeed, Ramos had invited Jacor here with a clear purpose and a calculated reason.

  Ossa had long ceased to be called a nation. It now depended on Hesmor and existed as one of its subordinate entities. If Ramos were to organize this conference in secret, Hesmor would have grounds to suspect that Ossa was plotting rebellion. But with Jacor present, what Ramos was doing was not only for Ossa. It also indirectly contributed to Hesmor’s development. Jacor was forced into a passive position and compelled to accept Ramos’s move. Although it posed no real threat to Jacor’s authority, he despised being maneuvered and having matters pushed beyond his control. Jacor cast a dark glance at Ramos. The vice chieftain clearly understood this yet chose to ignore it, continuing his speech without concern.

  "Why is it that we, warriors blessed by the heavens with special Abilities, still fall behind others? We possess everything needed to become heroes, to stand at the peak of this world, yet we remain inferior to Greaton. The reason is simple. We are not systematically trained. We lack exposure to broader knowledge. We do not wield powerful weapons in our hands. And we lack mages."

  "Our warrior centric ideology is too deeply ingrained. We reject those with the potential to become mages and force them onto the path of warriors, unaware that we are destroying precious seeds. Individuals who could one day shoulder the fate of an entire people."

  Ramos slammed his fist onto the table. He remembered vividly the first time he saw the flow of mana. The look his father gave him was not pride, but contempt, so different from the way he looked at Nash. In the eyes of Ossa in the past, mages were cowards, people who hid behind others, striking from the shadows without the spirit of a warrior.

  No one seated here raised objections. They had all personally witnessed the devastating power of a mage not long ago. With a single wave of the hand, countless lives were reduced to fragments. With a snap of the fingers, a sandstorm swallowed an entire capital. A legendary dragon was trampled beneathfoot like a dog, beaten into terror and driven away. That massive golden golem had shattered their rigid and ignorant beliefs. Once again, reality stood before them. Mages were nothing like what they had imagined. They were far stronger than warriors.

  "I propose the "Encouragement of Learning" policy. Before undergoing the coming of age ceremony, all children must attend combat academies to gain knowledge and temper their experience. Our goal is to cultivate outstanding individuals. As for children with the potential to become mages, Ossa will fully support their research and education costs. As time goes on, our descendants will become ever more capable and more advanced. Great Will will no longer be something distant and unattainable."

  "Only by possessing sufficient strength can one come into contact with those stronger than oneself. Only by encountering the strong can one gain greater knowledge."

  "Furthermore, I propose cooperation among the younger generations of the tribes. They should form small teams, allowing one person’s weaknesses to be offset by another’s strengths. They will support each other through their growth, and in doing so, forge bonds of friendship and unity that will shape the future of our tribes."

  "Very well. Let us vote. If anyone has objections, speak now." Ramos smiled broadly as he concluded his speech.

  "No objections." Mys was the first to speak. She was the most senior figure present, the chieftain of NightWing.

  Viper glanced at Mys with unease. As the rightful successor of VenomSerpent, she had been acknowledged by the tribal badge and had met Heria one last time before her dissolution. She remembered Heria’s words with absolute clarity. Never provoke NightWing under any circumstances.

  "No objections." Viper raised her hand in agreement as well. In any case, this matter had no real impact on her tribe.

  Drake closed his eyes in silence. He neither agreed nor opposed. To him, forming teams was childish. Only the weak relied on groups. The strong were always solitary. Dragonscale did not align closely with any allies, though having a few "support types" could still be considered acceptable.

  Melor, representing SilverFang, also remained silent. Three approvals and one neutral stance had already determined the outcome of this conference. There was no need for him to speak. Clearly, the current chieftain of IronHorn, Thomas, thought the same.

  With the conference concluded, Ramos’s policy was passed. It was a policy that would not only drive the development of Ossa, but also indirectly accelerate competition and growth across the entire younger generation of Veynar.