Krrax's fist slammed down on the table, the wood cracking under the impact. "It's not even a siege. It's a harvest. They're... they're farming us for deaths. Every six hours, they come in, kill a few more of my people, then retreat. They're not even trying to win quickly. They're deliberately drawing this out, maximizing the death toll."

"Because they're feeding a ritual," Freda said quietly, her scholar's mind recognizing the pattern. "Every death in this valley has been part of a massive blood magic working. The cult isn't just trying to resurrect the First Demon Lord—they're trying to summon him directly into this location."

Every lizard-folk in the room turned to stare at her, horror dawning on their faces.

"That's... that's why this is happening?" a female warrior asked, her voice barely a whisper. "We're not dying in a war. We're being... sacrificed?"

Freda nodded sadly. "I'm sorry. But yes. This entire conflict was probably orchestrated by whatever cult agent is controlling King Vexor. They needed massive amounts of death concentrated in a single location. What better way than to turn two peaceful tribes against each other and let them kill each other for months?"

Chief Krrax's face had gone pale beneath his scales. "Then there's no hope at all. Even if we somehow defeated the serpent folk, we'd still have to face whatever demon they're trying to summon. We can't win. We're all dead."

"No," Satou said, and the absolute conviction in his voice made everyone look at him. "You're not dead. Not while I'm here. And this ends now."

He stepped forward to the map table, his eyes scanning the strategic positions with the analytical gaze of someone who'd led successful battles against overwhelming odds before.

"First, we need to understand what we're really facing. Freda—how close do you think this ritual is to completion?"

The young elf's scholarly mind worked through the problem. "Based on what we've seen... the sheer amount of death... I'd estimate they're at least seventy, maybe eighty percent complete. They probably need a few more days of systematic slaughter to reach the critical threshold. Once they do, they'll perform the final summoning ceremony at the temple."

"Then we have a time limit but also an opportunity," Satou said. "They haven't completed the ritual yet, which means we can still stop it. And they've been deliberately prolonging the conflict, which means they're confident in their position. Overconfident, probably."

He turned to Chief Krrax. "Your breakthrough attempts—did you ever target the serpent leadership directly? King Vexor or his elite guard?"

Krrax shook his head. "We couldn't get close. Their central encampment is three miles from here, surrounded by their entire army. And Vexor never leaves it—he commands from safety while his enhanced warriors do the actual fighting. We'd need to fight through hundreds of enemies just to reach him."

"What if you didn't need to fight through them?" Satou asked. "What if a small, elite strike team could bypass their army entirely and hit the leadership directly?"

Hope flickered in Krrax's eye before being immediately crushed by pragmatism. "It's impossible. We tried sending assassins twice. They were detected and killed before getting within a mile of the central encampment. The corrupted warriors don't sleep, don't take breaks, don't have blind spots in their patrol patterns. There's no way to sneak past them."

"There is if you have the right skills," Satou said, his mind already forming a battle plan. "Shadow here is an infiltration specialist. Grimnir, Kelvin, and I have combat abilities that exceed normal warriors by several orders of magnitude. Freda can counter whatever magical protections they've established. And Urgot... well, Urgot is eager to prove himself and sometimes that's the most dangerous quality in a fighter."

He looked around at his companions, seeing immediate understanding and agreement in their eyes—except for Shadow, who simply gave a single nod of acknowledgment.

"Here's what we're going to do," Satou said, his voice carrying absolute command authority. "We're going to split this into two operations running simultaneously. Operation one: my strike team will infiltrate the serpent central encampment, assassinate King Vexor and his elite guard, and throw their command structure into chaos. Operation two: Chief Krrax and his warriors will launch a coordinated assault on the surrounding camps, taking advantage of the chaos to break the siege and reclaim your valley."

"That's suicide," one of the lizard-folk warriors protested. "Six people against eight hundred enhanced enemies?"

"Not if we do it right," Satou countered. "The enhanced warriors are powerful but mindless. They follow orders but don't think tactically. Kill their leadership, and they'll lose coordination. They might not even stop fighting, but they'll become scattered, disorganized, easier to defeat in detail."

He turned to Freda. "The temple—you said it's in the valley's center. How far from the serpent encampment?"

"Based on Ssyla's description, maybe half a mile," Freda calculated.

"Then after we kill Vexor, we'll move immediately to the temple and destroy whatever ritual setup they've established there. Burn the altars, shatter the magic arrays, kill any cult members maintaining the ceremony. Without the ritual to complete, whatever demon they're trying to summon will remain banished."

Satou placed his hands on the map table, leaning forward with intensity. "Chief Krrax, I know you have no reason to trust me. We just met. For all you know, I could be lying about my capabilities or leading your people into a trap. But look me in the eye and tell me—do you have any other choice? Any other plan that gives your tribe even a chance at survival?"

The chief met his gaze, and for a long moment the only sound was the distant dripping of water somewhere in the cavern depths.

Finally, Krrax spoke, his voice rough with emotion he couldn't quite suppress. "No. We have no other plan. We've been waiting here to die, hoping maybe our ancestors would grant us a miracle. Perhaps you're that miracle."

He straightened to his full height, and Satou saw the weight lift slightly from the chief's shoulders—the weight of hopelessness being replaced by purpose, even if that purpose might still end in death. "When do we move?"

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