"We can hear clashing!"
"It's near!"
"Fast! Fast!"
The mountain steep was alive with activity, the various humanoid creatures moving with a sense of urgency to a certain place.
Each group bore distinct physical traits that set them apart: some had the curling horns and thick, muscular bodies of Bighorn Sheep; others had the agile, sleek forms of Mountain Goats.
Chamois with their delicate, nimble frames mingled with the more robust Tahr, while the Ibex stood out with their majestic, backward-curving horns.
The Mouflon, with their broad shoulders and prominent curved horns, completed the diverse assembly.
The Bighorn Sheep humanoids had human faces, chests, shoulders, and stomachs, their horns large and spiraled, signifying their strength and dominance.
They moved with deliberate power, every step taken with calculated precision.
Their bodies were covered in thick fur ranging from shades of brown to gray, blending seamlessly with the rocky terrain.
Compared to the earlier Lyerin transformation, the leader of Ibex and the others had human-like faces, chests, stomachs, and shoulders, and the only parts covered by fur were the back of their heads, their full backs, and the rest of their hands and hooves.
The shamans of each subgroup of the tribe had detected unknown intruders capable of Mana in this mountain that they found, and their task was to eliminate these threats. But as they looked down the steep incline, they were met with an unexpected sight: humanoid creatures resembling literal Ibex, but standing on two legs, locked in fierce combat.
The air was thick with the sounds of clashing horns and grunts of exertion.
"What in the name of the Ancients is going on?" one of the Bighorn Sheep warriors muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.
The leader of the Ibex subgroup, a tall figure with an imposing presence, also wore a flabbergasted look on his face.
Even some of the Ibex warriors beside him were dumbfounded.
The creatures fighting below were clearly Ibex as well, but there was a stark difference.
The Ibex with the group had human-like skin and faces, while the ones fighting resembled literal Ibex in their mannerisms and appearance.
"Are those... Wild Ibex?" a Mountain Goat warrior asked, her eyes wide with shock.
"Yes, but why are they here? And they say they are fighting for women?" a Chamois warrior added, his voice tinged with confusion.
The leader of the Ibex shook his head, his expression one of deep concern. "I do not recognize them. They might be a roaming group of wild Ibex without a tribe. Their behavior is... unusual, to say the least but maybe because they got a smell of the Ibex from our tribe."
The fighting below was intense, the Ibex battling with a primal ferocity that was unsettling to witness.
They clashed with their horns, reared up on their hind legs, and crashed into each other with bone-jarring force, their bodies were covered in blood and they looked like they were literally killing each other.
It was a savage display, far removed from the more disciplined combat styles of the humanoid warriors watching from above.
"Should we stop these wild Ibex's?" a Tahr warrior observed, his brow furrowed in confusion.
The leader of the Ibex subgroup took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he watched the chaotic scene. "The Devil Horned Tribe of Ibex was known for this kind of behavior in the wild. They would kill each other once they sensed a female in their midst. They were thought to be extinct because of this... nature."
One of the Mouflon warriors stepped forward, his voice filled with urgency. "We need to stop them. If they continue like this, they'll all kill each other."
The Ibex leader nodded, his resolve hardening. "I don't know where these Ibex came from, but we can't let them destroy themselves. They need to be stopped."
With a swift motion, the Ibex leader leaped down the steep incline, his warriors following close behind.
They moved with incredible speed and agility, their powerful legs propelling them over the rocky terrain with ease.
As they approached the battling Ibex, the leader raised his arms, his voice booming.
"Enough! Stop this madness!"
The fighting Ibex paused, their eyes wild and breathless. The leader of the Ibex subgroup stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. "We are not your enemies. We are here to help you. Cease this senseless fighting."
There was a tense silence as the battling Ibex slowly lowered their horns, their confusion evident.
The leader of the humanoid Ibex took a deep breath, hoping his words would be enough to quell the violence.
"This isn't your way," he continued, his voice firm. "You don't need to fight each other. We can find a way to coexist, to understand why we're here together."
The Ibex warriors surrounding him nodded in agreement, their stances relaxed but ready to intervene if necessary.
…
The tension in the mountain steep was still heavy as the dust settled.
The wild Ibexes that had been locked in fierce combat that looked like a life and death battle finally stopped, their breaths coming in heavy pants. But even as the humanoid tribes began to approach with cautious steps, one figure stood out: Lyerin. He was unscathed, his eyes blazing with a ferocity that hadn't diminished in the slightest.
The medieval people from the Kingdom, who had used transformation scrolls to become wild Ibexes, glanced at each other in confusion.
The sight of the tribal humanoid Ibexes with human faces, chests, shoulders, and stomachs left them flabbergasted.
They had expected enemies or beasts, but not these nearly human-like beings.
"Lyerin, stop!" one of the transformed medieval men cried out, his voice filled with desperation.
But Lyerin did not heed their pleas. He lunged forward, his horns aimed at his next target.
ROOAARRR!!!
The medieval group, bewildered, could only watch as he continued his relentless assault.
"What are you doing!?" another transformed medieval man shouted, barely dodging Lyerin's charge. "They clearly said we should stop! Why are you still adamant in punching us!?"
The medieval era group, caught between the commands of the tribal Ibexes and the ferocity of Lyerin, cried out in their hearts and minds.
Just what is his plan?
They didn't know why he was doing this, but since he kept on going, they felt compelled to keep fighting too.
"You son of a bitch!"
"Kill him!"
Soon, all of them decide to gang up Lyerin.
The tribal Ibexes, seeing the chaos unfold once again, moved to intervene.
The leader of the humanoid Ibex tribe, with his commanding presence and noble bearing, stepped forward, his voice booming.
"Enough! This madness must end now!"
The humanoid Ibex warriors managed to separate the combatants, forming a barrier between Lyerin and his bewildered, transformed companions. But Lyerin would not be stopped. He continued to scream, "All the females should be mine!" His voice was a guttural growl, filled with an obsession that sent shockwaves through the gathered tribes and transformed medieval men.
The leader of the Ibex tribe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied Lyerin. "You, wild one," he called out, his voice a mix of authority and curiosity. "Why do you fight with such fervor? We have stopped, yet you continue. What drives you?"
Lyerin's chest heaved with each breath, his eyes wild and unyielding.
For a moment, it seemed he would charge again. But then, the leader of the Ibex tribe raised a hand, a gesture of peace.
"If it is wives you seek," the leader said, his tone measured and calm, "then join our tribe. The Devil Horned tribe and its subgroup, the Demon Ibex Clan. We have a custom. If any of you prove yourself the winner in our trials, you will gain many prizes, including wives. There is no need for this senseless battle."
The words acted like a vacuum to make the air tense, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.
The medieval group, still in their Ibex forms, exchanged stunned glances.
The tribal Ibexes watched with bated breath. And Lyerin, his eyes still blazing, seemed to process the offer.
Slowly, the wildness in Lyerin's eyes began to fade. He straightened, his breath steadying.
The promise of many wives and the challenge of proving himself in trials seemed to reach him in a way that nothing else had.
"Trials?" Lyerin asked, his voice low and gravelly.
The leader of the Ibex tribe nodded. "Yes, trials. A chance to prove your strength and claim your prize. Will you accept this challenge instead of continuing this pointless fight?"
Lyerin looked around, his eyes sweeping over the assembled warriors, both transformed and humanoid.
The ferocity in his gaze dimmed, replaced by a calculating look.
'Now, this is what I want, and I got their attention…'
Finally, he nodded. "I will accept your challenge."
The tension in the air dissipated, replaced by a collective sigh of relief.
The tribal Ibexes and the transformed medieval men slowly lowered their guard, the threat of further violence abating.
The leader of the Ibex tribe extended his hand, a gesture of unity and agreement.
"Then it is settled," he said, his voice firm. "You will join our tribe and compete in the trials. Prove your worth, and you shall have your wives."
Lyerin shook the leader's hand, with his grip strong and determined so he would look tough.