The dark-red candlelight flickered within a lantern made from the skull of some beast, stretching three warped shadows across the smoke-stained tent walls.
The Leopard Cat Grand Elder dragged his withered claws across the sheepskin map. The Dog Clan fortress was outlined there in some thick, dark-red fluid, making its contours appear like the jagged fangs of a beast.
As the Grand Elder began speaking, the Second Elder—whose yōki aligned with earth and whose temper was the most explosive among them, twitched at the corner of his eye, already irritated.
His right claw dug into the stone armrest, as if savoring the memory of crushing a Dog yōkai's skull. The thought eased, if only slightly, the suffocating boredom of sitting idle for so long.
"Those mutt brats are all tucked inside their barrier. Hiding like thousand-year turtles. Without overwhelming power, breaking that fortress barrier is impossible."
Sparks crackled between the Second Elder's fangs. His crossed teeth ground out a chilling, grating sound.
"So when are the Third Elder's forces arriving? How much longer must we wait!?"
"Indeed, Grand Elder," the Fourth Elder chimed in lazily from the shadows. "Keeping everyone idle like this… the meat we consume daily is enough to pile into a small mountain."
His aura flickered, now resembling a Crow Tengu, now a Dog yōkai—his features warping in the shifting light.
"If you ask me, we might as well dissolve the camp altogether. After all, we can't eve—"
"Utter nonsense!"
Before the Fourth Elder could finish, the Second Elder cut him off with a furious roar.
"Even without those two, the three of us can tear through the mutts' shell!"
The Fourth Elder shrugged, unwilling to argue with someone famous for both foul temperament and overwhelming strength. He even shifted closer to the tent entrance, lest the Second Elder's flying spittle land on him.
Outside, the harsh winter of the Western Lands was slowly loosening its grip. A no-longer-biting northern wind lifted the tent's door-flap slightly.
Through the gap, the Fourth Elder glanced at the Leopard Cat soldiers lounging around the campfire under the night sky. He couldn't help sighing inwardly.
This can't continue.
Most of the mid- and low-tier leopard-cats had long since lost the excitement and bloodlust they arrived with.
What lingered in camp now was nothing but idle chatter, jokes, curses, and boredom.
"Enough."
The Grand Elder struck the ground with his staff—topped by a severed head. The dull thud echoed through the tent, abruptly silencing the Second Elder's growing tirade against the Fourth Elder.
"At this point, we must assume the worst regarding the Third and Sixth Elders."
By now, even a lazy messenger should have returned.
Yet none had.
Only two possibilities remained.
Either the messenger had been trapped, or killed along the way.
Or, something of far greater importance had occurred. Something even the Grand Elder could not overrule. Something that forced the messenger not back to the front but to the clan lands… to report directly to the Panther King.
The strength of a mid-tier yōkai meant little among the Dog and Leopard Cat clans.
But elsewhere? Such a yōkai could conquer a human castle and rule as a daimyo with ease.
With the Dog Clan tightening its borders, the Grand Elder considered the facts again—and the second possibility grew more convincing.
And the implications chilled even him.
"Grand Elder… what do you mean by 'the worst'?"
The Second Elder couldn't resist asking. The Fourth Elder leaned in as well, equally desperate to know.
"…It is only a speculation. But you must prepare yourselves."
His refusal to elaborate further—combined with his frost-cold expression, froze even the Second Elder's fiery temper.
Eyes widening, he collapsed into his stone seat. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words emerged.
"Grand Elder," the Fourth Elder muttered, staring hard at the old leader's face, "such things cannot be spoken lightly."
He searched for any hint that the Grand Elder was joking.
But the Grand Elder's eyes were deep, dark, and utterly calm—like an unmoving abyss.
The Fourth Elder's heart tightened. He sank silently into his own chair.
"Our strategy of slowly bleeding the Dog Clan has failed. The next battle is no longer merely the order of the Panther King."
"It is a war our clan must fight—for our position, our future, and our very right to exist in the Western Lands. Even if it means paying the price."
His resolute words reverberated through the tent. The Second and Fourth Elders sat upright, expressions grave.
The Grand Elder tapped his staff lightly. A breeze rose, lifting the tent flap.
Before them loomed the Dog Clan fortress—built against the mountainside, towering, brightly lit even under the night sky.
It stood like a colossal weight pressing against their hearts.
"With only the three of us, breaking it head-on is impossible. Therefore, our only path… is to draw them out and destroy them in one encirclement."
The Fourth Elder spoke next.
"But with the Dog Clan Grand Elder's overly cautious nature—even if we seize hundreds of Dog yōkai and devour them before his eyes, he will not send even a single soldier outside the fortress."
In the early days of the conflict, when the Dog Clan lacked proper experience in retreating, some Dog yōkai tribes failed to withdraw in time.
The Leopard Cats butchered them at the fortress gates—hundreds of Dog yōkai, old and young alike.
The Fourth Elder still remembered the Dog Clan Grand Elder's expression—an expression that looked ready to devour them alive, yet forced itself into unbearable restraint.
It was then the Fourth Elder understood:
Between Cat and Dog… there was no room left for retreat.
Either one race lived, or the other died.
The north wind swept into the tent, carrying cold that pricked like countless tiny needles, stirring the candle flames.
The wavering light illuminated the three elders' solemn faces.
"Then if we cannot lure them out," the Second Elder muttered, still rough but anxious beneath it, "are we to waste away like this forever?"
The Grand Elder cut him a glare, silencing him instantly, then turned to the Fourth Elder.
"Fourth Elder. Mimicking Young Master Byakukonmaru's aura, can you manage it?"
"I can. Mimicking a Dog yōkai sneaking into their fortress may be difficult now, but mimicking our own tribe members? That poses no issue."
The Fourth Elder's eyes gleamed.
The Grand Elder's intention was clear, and he had already formed a plan of his own.
Under the Second Elder's mixture of disdain and envy, a simple, ruthless lure-and-ambush strategy unfolded like an invisible net, spreading toward the Dog Clan fortress.
"We three are already prepared to die for our tribe."
"And the Dog Clan? Are they prepared?"
The meeting ended.
The Grand Elder stepped outside, leaning on his grisly staff.
The northern wind rustled his beard and hair. His eyes were deep and fathomless.