87. The Ferocious Minotaur, Part Two

"Everyone, prepare the boulders. Wait until they're a bit closer, and only after my order, push the rocks down." Mo Fei feared they might act prematurely, diminishing the damage. The denser the enemy, the greater the effect. By now, over ten thousand bear warriors had scaled the mountain, covering the slope from mid-way down to the base.

Mo Fei could finally see clearly: the enemy had only six mages. Mages lacked stamina; after the chase and now climbing, it was doubtful they could even stand properly. Their attacks could be safely ignored. Ailin must be nearing their rear by now. Once Mo Fei's side attacked, the warriors from the other side would simultaneously charge down the mountain. It seemed few of these bear warriors would survive.

"Release!" When Mo Fei saw most had climbed high enough, he gave the command. Hundreds of stones of varying size thundered down the slope. The bear warriors, still climbing with heads down, heard the ominous rumble and looked up, instantly stricken with terror. Facing an opponent in hand-to-hand combat? That they could handle. But confronted with the avalanche of stone, panic set in.

Each massive boulder crushed hundreds of bear warriors; the smaller stones caused chaos and confusion. Bodies tumbled and rolled down the mountain, and those lucky enough to dodge the first barrage barely regained composure before another wave of rocks descended. This time, fewer stones, and smaller ones; in their haste, there simply weren't enough rocks to go around.

Mo Fei now saw the minotaur warriors from the opposite mountain charging down. He leapt up and shouted, "Everyone, charge! Our brothers are coming to support us—if you're slow, you'll miss your share!"

Roused by Mo Fei's cry, the young minotaur warriors, whose hands had trembled moments before, sprang to their feet. Howling, they charged down the mountain, the rivers of blood left by the rocks igniting their nerves with excitement. They saw only their foes ahead, caring nothing for anything else.

The bear general at the foot of the mountain saw minotaur warriors charging down from both sides. Coupled with the devastating losses caused by the stones, he realized he had fallen into their trap. Yet, even in his final moments, he could not fathom when the minotaurs had learned such cunning.

He was about to order a retreat when a searing pain struck his chest. He felt for the wound, only to see a crossbow bolt protruding from his chest, its tip adorned with bright crimson droplets of blood.

Before the bear general fell, the exhausted mages beside him collapsed first. In the last moment he glimpsed, each mage had a golden crossbow bolt lodged in their back, and at the edge of his vision, he saw an elven girl. With that, the general fell.

Leaderless, the bear warriors did not choose to retreat. One by one, they faced the ferocious minotaur warriors, fighting with every ounce of strength. The hatred between minotaurs and bears was as deep as the sky, and the bloodshed drove the minotaurs to madness. The exhausted bear warriors rarely managed to withstand the mighty iron clubs of the minotaurs. Often, a single strike sent bear warriors—blade and all—flying through the air. Those struck rarely survived, usually suffering a fatal blow before even hitting the ground.

This battle showcased the continent’s most formidable race at the peak of its fighting power. Their losses were negligible, and their victory sent a wave of fear through the bear tribe. Previously, to quell the minotaur threat, the bears had waged ceaseless campaigns, preventing the minotaurs from growing strong again. For decades, they succeeded: the powerful minotaur tribe was scattered, plagued by internal strife. Though their victories were costly, the minotaurs diminished in size, strength, and threat.

But their greatest folly was provoking Mo Fei, the founder of the Empire of Death, at the wrong time and place.

With Mo Fei’s intervention, the bears suffered defeat after defeat. Perhaps soon, the bear tribe's threat to the other continent would vanish forever.

Perhaps it was for their future they acted, for they remained powerful—no other race could challenge them yet. But at least, the tide had begun to turn...

After joining the three small minotaur tribes, the old chieftain excitedly clasped the hands of the other chieftains, refusing to let go. The three chieftains, grateful for his help, were speechless with emotion.

"Chieftains, you can reminisce later. Right now, we must prepare for the bear tribe’s next attack. There’s much to do, and decisions to be made!" Mo Fei saw the need to interrupt before they lost track of time.

"Yes, yes, business first," the old chieftain said, releasing his grip and inviting Mo Fei inside.

"Wait, isn't this always your responsibility?" the old chieftain suddenly asked.

"I handle your tribe’s affairs, but now there are three more tribes," Mo Fei replied, thinking the old chieftain had recalled something important.

"Oh, right!" The old chieftain chuckled.

"Brother, what's this about?" one chieftain asked, puzzled by the old chieftain’s words.

"Oh, it's like this," the old chieftain explained, "This young man is Mo Fei. He and his beloved were traveling, stumbled upon our village, and when the bear tribe attacked, he came to our aid. Without him, our losses would have been much greater. How did you three end up together? Did the bears discover you?"

"Our minotaur tribe has been divided for too long, all because of a misunderstanding. For a century, we’ve suffered bear oppression, each tribe growing smaller, forced to migrate endlessly. We three old fellows resolved to unite while we still live, for our descendants. We can’t let this continue."

"Good, good," the old chieftain exclaimed, delighted. "Count our little tribe in; I've long wished for this day."

"Brother, you call yours a small tribe? Your village is bigger than all three of ours combined..." His voice faded as he recalled their former strength—each had been larger than the old chieftain’s village, but now...

"Enough, enough, don't dwell on it. The young ones will mock us if they see. Now that we’re united, our strength is greater. If the bears dare come again, we’ll show them!"

"Right, brother, among us you’re the largest. After we merge, you remain chieftain, and we’ll assist you," said the smallest chieftain.

"No, no, I share responsibility for our tribe’s plight. The chieftain should come from among you three, and I’ll assist."

As they argued, Mo Fei stood and said, "If you ask me, we shouldn't have a chieftain at all. Didn’t you used to have a nominal great chieftain? If not for his mistakes, the minotaur tribe wouldn’t have ended up like this."

"But—?"

Before they could object, Mo Fei continued, "You could form a council of elders. The old chieftain, being the eldest, could serve as chief elder. The rest could be second, third elders, and so on. Everyone leads their people, matters are discussed together, and disagreements are resolved by majority vote. This way, you avoid disaster caused by a single person’s error."

"Excellent, excellent! We'll do just that. From now on, elders are ranked by age, and matters are settled by discussion and majority rule. A fine plan!" The chieftains all laughed.

Thus, the four chieftains—or rather, elders—gathered their tribes and announced the decision. Nearly five thousand minotaurs cheered loudly, envisioning a future counterattack.

There is strength in numbers.

Yet Mo Fei was less optimistic. With the bear tribe’s current development, their military far outstripped the minotaurs’. They could field nearly a million soldiers for a campaign on another continent, not counting the home garrison—a terrifying figure.

Mo Fei’s task was now to consolidate minotaur strength, forging a force capable of restraining the bear tribe. But it was clear: this battle had not annihilated the ten-thousand-strong bear force. It wouldn’t be long before their main army arrived.

He fortified every hidden defense, added countless boulders, but they could only hold for a while. What of the future?