The Fall of the Lion-Tiger Beastmen, a Nation Shrouded in Despair

The Draconic Kingdom lay in a remote and isolated location.

Leaving aside the Katze Plains and Mount Keitenias to the north, the Slane Theocracy lay to the west. However, a large lake stood between the two nations, and only a short stretch of their borders connected.

To the east was a small Beastman country, one of the five Beastman nations that divided off the northwestern corner of the continent inhabited by humans.

Its primary race was a Demi-Human Species that resembled both lions and tigers. They were generally strong, and once they reached adulthood, each possessed the strength of an elite human soldier who had trained year-round.

Last year's large-scale invasion.

The Werewolf Troops had caused the invasion to fail, but they had still plundered a great amount of food, making up for part of their losses.

It was now the end of July.

With some time remaining before winter, the upper ranks of the Lion-Tiger Beastman tribes had gathered to discuss whether they should raid the Draconic Kingdom again before winter arrived.

The air was filled with the aroma of meat!

A black cauldron over three meters tall stood atop blazing firewood. Rich broth bubbled within it, releasing clouds of steaming vapor.

A black bear, two elk, and several other beasts had been thrown into the black cauldron, along with a large amount of spices acquired from the Draconic Kingdom, then crudely stewed together.

Gulp~

Gulp~

Several Lion-Tiger Beastman guards tending the firewood and spices kept swallowing as they smelled the rich, gamey scent of meat in the air.

Not far away was an open-air meeting ground.

The leaders of five Beastman tribes, along with Priests and other representatives from each side—a total of thirteen people—sat in a circle and argued without end.

"We're not raiding the Draconic Kingdom?"