Ever since their clan suffered a devastating blow from the Blue Dragons, the Shadowhide clan had never recovered. Their original chieftain had even perished under the dragons' assault.
The newly appointed chieftain had no choice but to live with his tail between his legs, using the knowledge and secret resource sites mastered by the Shadowhide over centuries as bargaining chips to sell to the highest bidder.
By this point, the Shadowhide leader had long lost any ambition to compete with the Icehorn and Felpaw for dominance over the entire race. He only wanted to lead his remaining kin to find a suitable patron, and the militarily powerful Felpaw clan was his best option.
Although Xavarian's death had changed many things, as the saying goes: "A starved camel is still bigger than a horse." The heritage accumulated by the Felpaw over the years was not something the Icehorn could overthrow in a short time.
However, the Felpaw chieftain, whom the Shadowhide leader was so anxious to host, arrived at their camp at midnight accompanied by nearly ten thousand fully armed Satyr soldiers.
"Felpaw chieftain, what is the meaning of this?"
The Shadowhide leader's face was grim. Even if they were in decline, the Shadowhide had once been one of the three great Satyr clans. The Felpaw's blatant act of barging in with troops made his anger flare.
"Heh~ Think nothing of it." The Felpaw chieftain waved his hand with feigned friendliness. "I was worried these Tallstriders were bait set out by the Night Elves. I brought extra troops just in case."
The Shadowhide leader forced a smile. "Is that so? You truly are far-sighted; we hadn't considered that possibility."
Naturally, the displeased Shadowhide leader wouldn't allow the Felpaw army to surround his own camp. Who knew if the Felpaw intended to annex them right then and there?
While summoning his remaining three thousand troops to save face, the Shadowhide leader also secretly sent word to the other clans, briefly informing them of the situation.
By midnight sharp, over eighty thousand Satyr soldiers were gathered near the Shadowhide camp. All the clan leaders wore strained, superficial smiles while trading cold, sarcastic remarks.
Right at that moment, several pure-white Tallstriders emerged from the evergreen forest beside the camp.
Under the watchful eyes of the wary clan leaders, the Tallstriders dashed past the Satyr camp with vigorous strides.
The Shadowhide leader said with a half-smile, "What a pity. It seems no one will have a treat tonight. Wouldn't you agree, Felpaw chieftain?"
The Felpaw chieftain's expression was extremely awkward. He realized he had made a mountain out of a molehill, and the unexpected lack of an incident left him embarrassed and unable to save face.
"Coo~ Coo-coo~"
Just as the Felpaw chieftain was considering how to disperse the eighty thousand Satyrs, a sound clearly imitating a bird—but poorly executed by an intelligent being—drifted from deep within the forest where the Tallstriders had emerged.
The Felpaw chieftain's awkward expression instantly turned dark. He looked coldly at the bewildered Shadowhide leader and asked, "What was that? Don't tell me that was a Tallstrider's cry."
The Shadowhide leader waved his hands in a panic. "I don't know! I've never heard a sound like that before, have you?"
"That's right." "Never heard it." "So, these snow Tallstriders are released by the Night Elves at night?" "For what? Grazing? Do they have too much food on their hands?"
The noisy discussions on the scene made the Felpaw chieftain's rage grow. "Enough! You still dare to play dumb with me!"
"Who exactly is colluding with the Night Elves? Step forward now!"
The Felpaw Satyrs coordinated by stomping their hooves and shouting in unison, "Step forward! Step forward!"
The Felpaw's aggressive posturing soured the moods of the other leaders. The Icehorn chieftain took the opportunity to fuel the fire with sarcasm.
"What a grand display. Do you think you have the same deterrent power as Xavarian? Daring to label others before the facts are clear... I think you're just using this as an excuse to eliminate dissenters."
Satyrs, who used Fel energy long-term, were inevitably corrupted by its chaotic nature; they were by no means patient beings.
The Felpaw chieftain gave a sinister smile and raised his right claw, signaling his soldiers to prepare. "Icehorn, I think you're the one trying to use the Night Elves' 'borrowed blade' to kill. Are you that desperate to seize power?"
"Nonsense! You're the one using the Night Elves to purge your opponents!"
Whiz—Pop!
As the major Satyr clans split into factions and attacked one another verbally, a bright signal flare was suddenly launched into the sky from Starfall Village.
A rhythmic battle cry erupted from the defensive lines in front of the village, and a clear male voice carried far across the night sky.
"Our allies have paved the way for us! Today is the final battle against the Satyrs! Everyone, charge with me!"
"Roar!"
A large number of Sentinels riding Nightsabers rounded the defensive lines, forming massive ranks of cavalry to charge the bickering Satyrs. Hippogryph Riders took to the night sky, leading their companions, while Dryads clutching poisoned spears hopped forward, following the main Night Elf force in a steady advance.
Naturally, that clear, inspiring shout was heard by every Satyr. Every clan turned toward their neighbors with intense suspicion.
At this moment, no one dared to trust anyone else, fearing that a traitor would jump out and backstab them while they fought the Night Elves.
"You fools!" the Felpaw chieftain roared in frustration. "This is a Night Elf scheme to sow discord! Quickly, command your troops to hold the line, or we will all die here today!"
His words made sense, but the seeds of doubt were not easily removed. When the leaders moved their troops, they collectively kept their most trusted soldiers by their sides.
As it turned out, with morale, numbers, and soldier quality all lagging, forty thousand-plus Satyrs could not stop the fierce onslaught of the highly motivated Night Elves.
The final battle.
To the Sentinel forces who had been passively defending for months, this simple phrase acted like magic, boosting their morale to its peak. Except for ill-intentioned conspirators and the ambitious, no one wanted to live in the chaos of war for long. Although they couldn't be sure if the commander's "final battle" was true, the mere possibility made the Sentinels willing to squeeze out every bit of remaining strength to lead the charge.
Conversely, the mentally broken Satyrs couldn't focus on the front lines at all; the hostility at their backs felt like a thorn, drawing too much of their attention.
The Satyrs, who could have suppressed the Night Elves with superior numbers, crumbled almost instantly. Panic and unease spread through the camp like a plague, sweeping through in no time.
The Felpaw chieftain looked pale as he watched his front lines collapse. This old fox had also kept around ten thousand elite troops by his side.
"It's over... everything is over."
...
In the Starfall Village command center, Shandris—who already knew Andreas well—remained relatively calm, methodically directing the Sentinels to pursue the fleeing Satyrs.
Lunara looked at Andreas in disbelief, her expression practically begging for an explanation. "...How exactly did you do it? Just by releasing some domestic Tallstriders for a few nights?"
Andreas gave a confident smile. "On the surface, yes. But the psychological shifts in the enemy are complex. I wouldn't say I had a hundred percent grasp on their mindset."
Seeing Lunara's confusion as she prepared to ask more, Andreas waved his hand helplessly. "I can't explain it all in a short time. Let's focus on the battlefield first."
"This battle will truly become the final one. We need to annihilate as much of the Satyr's living force as possible to lay a solid foundation for post-war order."
Lunara suppressed her curiosity. "One last question: what was the point of having someone imitate bird calls in the woods?"
"...Simply put, it was to 'pigeon' them."
Lunara: "???"