The next day, Sorin stood before the gathered crowd.
Murmurs spread through the air as people whispered among themselves.
"Silence, everyone," Sorin said firmly.
The noise slowly died down.
"The decision has been made. I have already explained the consequences of staying, and they will not change. We leave in ten days. Those who are leaving must begin preparing immediately. The caravan will arrive soon. New males will be added."
The crowd erupted.
Shouts, protests, and angry voices filled the space. Some looked terrified, others furious.
Sorin did not wait for the noise to settle.
"Tomorrow, you will give your answers," he said coldly, then turned and walked toward the priestess's hut, ignoring the cries behind him.
"You finally have a bit of the dignity your father once had," the priestess said when he entered.
Sorin let out a bitter laugh.
"Really? I am an incompetent chief, Elder. The loss was too great. Four females…" His voice lowered. "Elder, the preparations have started. I hope you can hold a ceremony after the caravan leaves."
"It is my duty," the priestess replied calmly. "Sorin, don't be too hard on yourself. Your father was the same at first. He learned from his mistakes and became the man you admire."
She paused, then added more quietly, "And those females were non-shifters. Perhaps they could not have survived the journey. They were unblessed by the Beast God. Maybe… this was fate."
"But they were still females," Sorin said, his voice heavy.
"You are soft-hearted," the priestess said indifferently as she crushed a herb between her fingers. "Do you know why blessed females are kept at the center of the tribes? Because they have higher tenacity. They can fight when necessary. They are stronger—yet more protected."
"I know," Sorin said, turning his head away.
"You stubborn child… now leave," the priestess said, waving him off.
As Sorin walked out, the priestess murmured softly to herself,
"Stubborn, just like his father."
The days passed with preparations in full swing.
Everyone was busy, drying meat, repairing huts, packing supplies.
Soon, the caravan arrived.
Stalls were set up across the open grounds, filled with strange and unique items.
Astra went with Varos, Aeron, and Sylas to browse.
"Look at this beautiful fur!" Astra exclaimed, lifting a pure white pelt. "I want this."
Varos smiled and paid with glowing gemstones.
"I want new clothes made from it," Astra said, placing it into the basket Aeron was holding.
Ardis was coiled in Sylas's arms, watching everything with wide eyes. The fox cubs were there too.
It's more developed than I thought, Ardis mused, noticing clay pots and woven clothes made from sheep wool.
They soon reached a fenced arena.
"Molt! Molt! Hit him!" the beastmen shouted.
A sheep beastman and a deer beastman were fighting inside.
"Which one do you like?" Kaela asked, joining them.
"They're not my type. I prefer carnivores," Astra replied lazily. "What about you?"
"The winner," Kaela said calmly.
The sheep won.
"I like him," Kaela said, already walking forward. She handed him a flower with a smile.
Another match followed—this time a lion and a tiger.
They fought brutally, blood staining the ground.
"The lion has the upper hand," Varos said.
As predicted, the lion won.
He stepped out of the arena calmly, earning loud cheers.
Astra watched him, then her gaze shifted.
"Look at that one," she said, pointing.
It was a wolf beastman, gentle-looking, standing quietly at the side.
"That's his match next," Aeron said.
The wolf faced a massive bear beastman.
The fight was intense, muscle against speed.
In the end, the wolf won narrowly.
Astra had three male slots.
After the discussion, Sylas went out with three flowers.
He learned that:
The lion was arrogant.
The wolf was kind.
The bear was outspoken.
He chose the wolf and bear.
That night, bonfires were lit.
Small fires for females.
A massive central fire for the beastmen.
When the wolf and bear approached Astra with roasted meat, Sorin accepted it first and handed it to her.
Astra tasted it, then nodded.
They were accepted.
Some beastmen watched with envy and jealousy.
The selection would last three days.
The final day would be the celebration.
That night, Aeron and Varos stayed awake, keeping the fire burning.
It was both protection and ritual.
The next day, Astra headed to the market again with her new males, Kaeris, Sylas, the cubs, and Ardis.
The competition between males was even fiercer than the day before.
The arena was filled with roaring cheers, the sounds of blows landing, and the scent of blood in the air.
Astra watched for a while, then lost interest and began walking around the stalls instead.
"Astra, if you want, I can recommend someone," Ravik said gently.
He was the wolf beastman she had chosen the night before.
"Oh?" Astra glanced at him with mild curiosity. "Who?"
"He's a crocodile beastman," Ravik replied. "A purple-level beastman. But during his fight, he was injured on the face. It makes him look… a bit frightening."
"Purple-level?" Astra raised an eyebrow. "Then I should at least take a look."
Ravik nodded and led them toward the storage area behind the arena.
He pointed to a man standing alone.
The crocodile beastman looked tall and solid, his posture calm and restrained. Half of his face was handsome and sharp, but the other half was covered in a large, ugly scar that ran from his temple to his jaw.
It made his expression seem cold and dangerous.
"Did you say his power is purple?" Astra asked again, studying him carefully.
"Yes," Ravik said. "Despite his appearance, he's known to be reliable and helpful."
"I've heard of him," Borin, the bear beastman, added. "He's strong. His name is… Varek, I think."
Astra stared at the crocodile beastman for a long moment.
"Go find out more about him."
Kaeris nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
Astra returned to wandering through the market.
The cubs and Ardis were already asleep, curled up together, the excitement of the festival finally fading.
All the noise, the fights, the colors, it had started to feel repetitive.
After a while, Kaeris returned.
His expression was a little strange.
"He's called Varek," Kaeris said quietly. "Crocodile tribe. Purple-level. Strong, disciplined, no scandals. The scar came from protecting a caravan group two winters ago."
Astra paused.
"Then why is he still alone?" she asked.
Kaeris hesitated. "Because most females are afraid of him."
Astra laughed softly.
"Then that's their loss."
She took the final flower from Kaeris's hand and stood up.
Ravik and Borin both looked at her in surprise.
"You're sure?" Ravik asked gently.
Astra's gaze shifted back toward the crocodile beastman standing alone at the edge of the grounds.
"He didn't try to show off. He didn't beg. He didn't even look at me," she said calmly."I like that."
She walked toward him herself.
Varek noticed her approaching and stiffened slightly.
Astra stopped in front of him and held out the flower.
"For you."
For a moment, Varek simply stared at it, clearly stunned.
"…You're sure?" he asked, his voice low and rough.
Astra smiled.
"Do I look like someone who gives flowers by mistake?"
Slowly, Varek accepted it.
That night, at the bonfire, when Varek brought his roasted meat and handed it to Sorin,
Sorin froze for a split second.
Across the fire, the priestess's eyes narrowed slightly.
Mother and daughter exchanged a brief, silent look.
Then Sorin passed the meat to Astra.
Astra ate a small piece.
She nodded.
The fire crackled.
Varek was accepted.