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"If only we had brought the full might of the Rock Bear Tribe's elite warriors, we wouldn't have fallen so easily," Karato thought bitterly.

His mind turned to Kalina. She had been reluctant to join the battle, citing her inexperience as a novice shaman. Karato had insisted, convincing her to come along to gain experience. Now she was dead, and the weight of that decision pressed heavily on him.

As he hung limply from Miaomiao's jaws, his despair gave way to a simmering fury. "Kalina was the granddaughter of the Grand Shaman! When they learn of her death, you won't escape retribution," he spat.

Michael snorted. "I see no reason to fear threats from someone who isn't even here," he replied coolly.

Turning to his soldiers, Michael's tone softened slightly. "Well done, everyone. Secure the prisoners and begin the roll call."

The battlefield grew quiet. The earlier elation of survival was tempered by the sobering task of accounting for the fallen.

The captured warriors shuddered under the cold stares of Michael's troops, some even weeping as they were herded together. The soldiers methodically subdued and restrained the prisoners, binding their limbs tightly to prevent any transformations and gagging them before lining them up.

When the roll call was completed, the report came in: 12 dead, 35 wounded. Michael closed his eyes briefly, the toll weighing on him. While the casualties were remarkably low considering the scale of their victory, the memory of missions where all his soldiers returned alive made the losses harder to bear.

He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the captured Rock Bear warriors—200 in total. This was no minor skirmish. Unlike previous opponents from obscure tribes, the Rock Bear Tribe was one of the Five Great Tribes. Capturing their warriors would have significant political and strategic implications.

Though the secretive nature of the Special Task Force meant the victory couldn't be announced immediately, Michael could already imagine the scene when the prisoners were paraded before the allied forces of La-Elonia. Their morale would soar to unprecedented heights, while the prestige of the Pamir Empire would plummet.

Michael also anticipated lucrative ransom payments. The Five Great Tribes, with their strict adherence to bloodline purity, would spare no expense to reclaim their kin.

As he paced among the captives, the sticky sound of blood-soaked earth clinging to his boots filled the silence. Each step reinforced the reality of their victory. The Rock Bear warriors, once proud and fierce, now sat with heads bowed in defeat, their eyes reflecting fear and submission.

Looking around, Michael saw his troops beginning to shake off the fatigue and sorrow of battle. Their spirits lifted as they celebrated their hard-earned triumph.

The spoils of war were considerable. Beyond the prisoners and their equipment, over 100 direwolves had been captured. These majestic creatures, prized even among beasts, were undoubtedly the greatest prize of the battle.

The direwolves, initially snarling and baring their teeth, had quickly become docile upon encountering Miaomiao and Marcus. The sight of these once-ferocious animals lying on their backs and wagging their tails brought an unexpected lightness to the grim aftermath.

Some soldiers, particularly those without personal mounts, approached the direwolves with eagerness, seeking to form bonds with them. For soldiers from Michael's contingent, who lacked the wealth or status to possess their own beasts, this was an unparalleled opportunity.

Michael observed with a faint smile as his soldiers approached him, their eyes filled with hope. He nodded his approval, and a cheer erupted among the ranks.

The knights wasted no time selecting their direwolves, forging bonds with their chosen mounts. For those whose wolves still recognized their former owners, the contracts had to be severed before new ones could be formed. Miaomiao, ever opportunistic, facilitated the contracts in exchange for additional gold.

"This makes you mine now," one soldier whispered to a pure white direwolf as he gently stroked its head. The wolf, unable to speak but clearly understanding the sentiment, nodded slightly.

Watching the scene unfold, Michael's smile grew. The thought of a knightly force mounted on direwolves filled him with pride. This victory not only solidified his leadership but also promised to elevate his family's standing.

The prospect of commanding a direwolf-mounted knight battalion made his chest swell with anticipation.

By the time the battlefield was cleared and the contracts with the direwolves completed, it was late into the night. The light drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, soaking the ground and everyone on it. Around the camp, Michael noted the exhaustion on the faces of his troops. Moving under cover of night seemed unwise; rest was necessary before they resumed their march at dawn.

Having made his decision, Michael approached Sir Kevin and Louis.

"We'll rest here tonight. Meeting enemies while we're this fatigued would be disastrous," he said.

Sir Kevin nodded, shaking the rain from his damp hair.

"That would be wise, Captain. Traveling in this state isn't feasible."

It was the first time Sir Kevin had addressed Michael as "Captain," a sign that he had earned Kevin's genuine respect through his leadership and strength.

"The rain won't let up anytime soon," Michael continued. "Set up tents and light campfires in groups of ten. Use portable sleeping bags."

The soldiers quickly followed his orders. Fires sprang to life across the camp, providing warmth and a place to dry equipment. Some began preparing a simple meal of soup made with jerky and ground grains. Others stripped off wet gear and hung it near the fires to dry.

In the first tent erected, healers were already tending to the wounded. Thanks to the noble heritage of most of the troops, two skilled healers had been brought along for the mission.
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After ensuring that his troops were settled, Michael walked toward where the prisoners were held. The rain soaked his boots, creating squelching noises with every step as he trudged through the mud.

He arrived to find a wall of flame encircling the area, courtesy of Marcus. The fire burned like a living barrier, its intense heat making it difficult to approach. Michael could see the beasts lounging within the fiery circle, basking in the warmth. The rain evaporated before it even touched the ground, shrouding the area in a thick mist.