“High Priest, I’m absolutely certain that I used all my strength to defend against that strike, but it was still utterly useless. Although I don’t know why I didn’t die in the end, that arrow had indeed pierced through my head at that moment.”

The tall and muscular Tigerfolk General knelt on the ground, hanging his head, his eyes filled with deep confusion and guilt. He felt ashamed for failing to protect the supplies and couldn’t understand why he had awakened once more from the battlefield that had turned to ashes.

“Enough, I see you weren’t shot through the head, you’ve just had your brain rattled. Let it go, let it go. Apart from your inexplicable testimony, everything else is within expectations. Go find a shaman to take a good look at you. Your head is far more important than all that physical strength.”

“Well, High Priest, I didn’t lie. I really…!”

“That’s enough!”

Saharit sternly interrupted, despite looking somewhat comical due to his eye issue. However, his long-standing authority silenced Kunnir, who wanted to defend himself.

“I understand you’re unhappy about losing the supplies and are eager to find an excuse to absolve yourself, but this matter isn’t entirely your fault. If I’m not mistaken, that red-haired archer you mentioned should be one of the three legendary-level individuals of Courage City in the Human United Kingdom. She’s the second-generation inheritor of the Crimson Flame Archery, Flora. If you managed to escape from her, you’ve done remarkably well. After all, even someone like me wouldn’t dare claim to be able to win against that woman…”

“Uh…”

The frustrated Tigerfolk General opened his mouth, wanting to emphasize once more that it was definitely not an illusion, but as the High Priest had said, if an arrow had truly pierced through his brain at that time, how could he be alive and well now? Could it be that his head had taken a severe blow, causing his memories to become confused?

Kunnir, who had always been proud of his superior intelligence compared to his kin, began to seriously doubt his self-perception for the first time.

“Alright, you can go now. Stay in the central command for now. I’ll handle the issue of the unit that attacked you and the supply problem separately. The situation is unique this time, so I won’t hold your actions against you.”

“….Thank you, High Priest, for your generosity.”

After hesitating for a moment, Kunnir didn’t say more and got up to exit the central command tent.

His footsteps gradually faded.

At this moment, the old fox Saharit showed a thoughtful look of puzzlement. “Strange… if he truly encountered The Crimson Flame Flora, there’s no way Kunnir could have survived. Why would she spare him?”

“And why didn’t she capture him for interrogation? I even gave Kunnir explicit orders to prevent that. Did I waste my efforts…?”

“No, if we look at it from a different perspective, is it possible that what he said is true? Flora did kill him, but something else brought Kunnir back to life?”

Subconsciously, Saharit thought of necromancy, the sinister arts that some factions within the power structure dabbling in undead magic might study. However, they shouldn’t have had the opportunity or motive to use it on Kunnir…

Moreover, according to the old fox’s recent observations, this Tigerfolk General was full of vitality, his pupils were clear, and he spoke fluently. Though he had suffered some injuries, he was still in robust health, unlike “those things.”

Could it be genuine resurrection magic?

No, it’s impossible. There are no shamans or priests with access to such profound powers within the Beastman Kingdom’s territory. Otherwise, Saharit would have known about it.

The widely spread “miracle of resurrecting the dead” that truly exists in the world is only possible for the three Saintesses of the Holy Empire, with the Redemption Saintess relying on a certain artifact to accomplish it.

Although there are many other random legends and rumors about resurrection and revival, most are mere fabrications. A few create illusions related to necromancy, puppets, or transforming corpses into other races to gain “new life.”

Only the Redemption Saintess can truly revive deceased beings with their rationality, memories, and powers intact, without changing their race, which is the real meaning of “resurrection.”

Everything else is just a curse falsely claimed to be redemption.

Moreover, it’s said that the miracle of resurrection places a heavy burden on the Redemption Saintess, making it something she can’t use casually and is certainly not something she’d use to travel far into the Beastman King’s territory to save an obscure Tiger who had some wit.

Yes, none of it makes sense. Even if the suspected transcendent entity inside the Wanhe Fortress possessed similar powers, she had no reason to use such a heavily draining ability for a weak Tiger who was an enemy.

The most reasonable explanation is that Kunnir had hallucinated. As for the reason Flora spared him, Saharit couldn’t figure that out at the moment.

However, just to be cautious, the old fox deliberately found an excuse to keep Kunnir in the central command, under his surveillance. This way, if something indeed happened, he would have time to react.

“But… if that was truly Flora, and there’s a group of assassins composed entirely of women, it’s highly likely that they are Princess Lilya’s bodyguards. Bodyguards cannot leave their master, so that means Princess Lilya is indeed in that unit….”

After confirming this, the old fox picked up the tattered wooden stick by his side and spent some time drawing symbols on the ground. When the peculiar pattern began to emit a faint glow, he spoke quietly towards it.

“My guess is correct. Your target should already be in the vicinity. I’ll send the fastest unit to provide support, and the rest… I don’t need to say more, do I?”

No one responded, and the glow of the symbols gradually dimmed, dispersing on the ground like bubbles. But Saharit knew that the message had been delivered, and the outcome depended on the battle tomorrow.

“….”

“Bring someone here and transmit my Marshal’s decree. Order the First, Sixth, and Seventh Legions of the Wolf-folk General and the First Mixed Legion of the Eagle-Folk to depart for the Tepaya Basin overnight… and include the Fox Assassin Corps. They must be fast. By tomorrow night, no, they must arrive at the destination before noon. The specific details will be handled by Mevis. She knows what to do.”

“Yes!”

“Wait… what else, High Priest?” The Fox warrior, already halfway out of the tent, turned back.

“….Tell Mevis to do her best. This is an internal struggle among humans. While we’ve gained some benefits, there’s no need to risk our lives. If it’s not feasible, allow her to abandon the plan and retreat.”

“Understood, High Priest!”

The light seeping in from outside the tent dimmed once more. In Saharit’s dismal black circles under his eyes, his eyes shone with wisdom and composure that had settled over time.

After a while, it seemed to have made some determination. It called another messenger.

“Dispatch scouts to inform the southern and northern armies currently engaged in battle with the Human United Kingdom. Upon receiving the orders, launch a full-scale attack. Fight for one day, whether or not you can achieve any accomplishments. Retreat into our borders one day later, and shrink inward from the south and north, constructing an encirclement.”

“If you encounter humans, engage in combat at your discretion, but avoid relentless pursuit or fighting to the death. That’s it, go.”

“Yes, High Priest!”

After a brief pause, the old fox smiled wickedly.

“Allies, I’ve done my utmost. I’m not unworthy of the vast supplies and food you’ve provided.”

“Whether or not the gods exist, let your 【Eternal Throne】 find out. As for us, the Beastmen, we won’t continue to wade into this muddy water. Hehehehehehe….”