Chapter 180 Tigren Tribe
Their Chieftain was said to be the strongest in generations, more powerful than any of his predecessors and far more unpredictable than the weather. So, as Elric and the Royal Advisor stood atop the hill overlooking the Tigren camp, a sense of unease settled over them.
They had come with an offer: to purchase the biochemical agent rumored to be in the tribe’s possession. But even that information was shaky at best. The source? A passing merchant’s offhand comment, one overheard by the Royal Advisor himself.
It sounded far too convenient, almost suspiciously so. The Royal Advisor had his doubts from the beginning. Information like that didn’t just fall into your lap by accident, especially when you needed it most.
Which meant someone had likely arranged for them to hear it. Someone who wanted them to come here. Perhaps even the Chieftain himself.
But with no other options left, the Royal Advisor had brought the lead to the Alpha King. And now, here they were, hoping they hadn’t walked straight into a trap.
More than anything, he wanted to understand the Gypsy Chieftain’s true motive for extending a hand. The Royal Advisor could only hope that the Tigren, renowned for their love of war, pleasure, and freedom, weren’t as cunning and scheming as their reputation suggested. That hope was the only reason he’d even considered coming here to negotiate. They were out of options, grasping at straws.
As they walked deeper into the encampment, both Elric and the royal advisor, now could be called as elders, observed their surroundings with quiet caution. There were far more warriors than women in sight, and these Tigren warriors were nothing short of intimidating.
Towering at an average of 6’6", they were built like tanks, broader and bulkier than even werewolves. Despite Elric and the advisor being physically capable themselves, they felt somewhat dwarfed in comparison.
The Tigren men bore sun-darkened skin, likely from a life spent roaming wild landscapes under the open sky. Their sheer physical presence spoke of constant combat and untamed living.
And the women, though fewer in number, were just as striking in their own way, sculpted hourglass figures, sun-kissed skin that bordered on bronze, and faces untouched by blemish. Their clothing was minimal, made of light, airy fabric that was revealing and barely concealed what it was meant to hide, accentuating rather than concealing their curves.