The golden morning light poured over Beastwell, casting long shadows that stretched across the cobblestone streets.


    The town was awake, alive, a stark contrast to the bloodstained arena that loomed in the distance like a silent reminder of a different world.


    Markets bustled with activity, their stalls overflowing with fresh fruits, exotic fabrics, and finely crafted trinkets.


    Vendors called out in melodic tones, their voices weaving into the background of everyday life.


    Laughter spilled from beastmen women gathered in circles, chatting over woven baskets filled with the day''s purchases.


    Among them, workers set out for their morning duties—muscular lionkin blacksmiths hammering metal with rhythmic precision, towering bearkin laborers hauling crates with ease, and sleek foxkin merchants negotiating deals with smooth confidence.


    The town pulsed with motion, a symphony of footsteps, clinking metal, and the rustling of goods being shuffled from one hand to another.


    But it was the children who brought the most life to the town.


    A group of little beastmen tore down the cobblestone path, their voices bright with laughter.


    A tiny rhino boy thundered ahead, his small horn barely poking from his forehead, each step a heavy stomp.


    A dog beastkin pup dashed beside him, his tail wagging wildly, his excitement boundless.


    A hawk beastkin flapped his arms as he ran, his tiny wings twitching as if willing himself to take flight.


    And trailing behind them, a little cat beastkin girl—her bright eyes filled with the simple joy of the chase.


    She didn’t see the uneven stone in her path.


    Her foot caught.


    She tumbled forward, a small gasp escaping her lips before she hit the ground.


    Ouch!


    Before she could push herself up, gentle hands lifted her.


    "You should be careful."


    She blinked up in awe, her scraped knee forgotten. Standing before her was Kelly, the fox mage.


    The morning sun caught the golden strands of her hair, making them shimmer like spun light.


    Her long robes, deep violet with silver embroidery, billowed softly in the breeze. Her golden eyes, warm yet firm, studied Selene with quiet amusement.


    Beside her stood Borris, a massive bearkin whose sheer size alone could make anyone cower.


    But his expression was soft, his kind eyes betraying the intimidating presence he carried.


    "Kelly! I am a big fan!" The cat girl gasped, her pain already an afterthought.


    At her words, the other children immediately rushed over, their excitement spilling over like an overflowing cup.


    The rhino boy stomped his foot eagerly. "Mr. Borris, what do I have to do to be as strong as you?"


    The dog beastkin wagged his tail. "Mr. Borris, can you arrange a meeting with Mr. Morales?"


    The hawk beastkin flapped his arms again, practically bouncing in place. "Miss Kelly, what about Mr. Talon? Can I meet him?"


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    Kelly let out a soft laugh, lifting a delicate hand. "Calm down, little ones. They’re all busy, but we’ll see what we can do."


    To these children, Korran’s generals weren’t warriors of war.


    They weren’t soldiers who bathed in blood and violence.


    They were legends.


    Each of them held a different charm in the eyes of the younger generation.


    Kelly was the intelligent and composed mage, the embodiment of wisdom and grace.


    Borris, despite his hulking form, was simple and soft-spoken, a figure of strength wrapped in kindness.


    Talon was the serious, disciplined warrior—admired but also feared, the one who never smiled.


    Morales was a shadow, barely seen, his name whispered like a myth.


    And then there was Kevin.


    Kevin was different.


    Wild. Unpredictable. Chaotic.


    He wasn’t admired in the same way the others were.


    To most, he was reckless, a storm without direction.


    But to some of the children, he was something else.


    A fun older brother.


    The kind who caused trouble but always made sure you laughed along the way.


    Then—


    The sound of distant shouting split through the warm air.


    "Make way! Make way!"


    Heads turned. The playful chatter died down.


    Kevin came sprinting down the street, his arms flailing in exaggerated motions, a manic grin stretched across his face.


    The children scattered, watching with wide eyes as dust kicked up in his wake.


    But Kevin wasn’t alone.


    Behind him—


    A group of outsiders.


    Asael and his companions.


    Bound. Surrounded by beastmen guards.


    The mood shifted in an instant.


    The warmth of the morning faded, replaced by something heavier, something colder.


    The laughter was gone.


    The children, who had been running and playing just moments ago, now stood frozen in place, their wide eyes locked onto the newcomers.


    Because they knew.


    Humans and other outsiders did not walk freely in Beastwell.


    And when they arrived, it never meant anything good.


    "Humans."


    The word slithered through the town like a venomous whisper, spreading from mouth to mouth, ear to ear.


    The once lively streets of Beastwell stilled, as if a cold wind had swept through and stolen the warmth of morning.


    Eyes turned. Glares sharpened.


    The beastmen, who had just moments ago been going about their day—haggling over fresh produce, hammering steel in their forges, laughing with their families—now stood frozen, staring at the group of outsiders being led through their home.


    Mothers pulled their children close, shielding them with protective arms.


    The little ones peeked out, their small faces filled with something more than curiosity—fear.


    Not one of them greeted Asael and his companions.


    Not one of them offered so much as a nod.


    Instead, the air became thick, heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable.


    Hatred.


    It was in the way the merchants gripped their wares as if expecting them to be stolen.


    It was in the way the blacksmiths clenched their hammers, their muscles tensing as though preparing for battle.


    It was in the way the beastmen guards stood taller, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.


    Asael and his group walked on, their steps uneven, uncertain, weighed down by the crushing presence of a town that did not welcome them.


    This was not what they had expected.


    They had braced for savagery.


    A land ruled by brute strength and barbarism.


    A place where beastmen lived like monsters, reveling in chaos and bloodshed.


    Instead, they found something disturbingly familiar.


    A town. A community. A home.


    But there was no warmth for them here.


    "Why are they here?"


    "Who allowed them in?"


    "Did they bring trouble?"


    The whispers chased their every step, some hushed, some openly spoken with sneering disdain.


    Asael felt the weight of every glance, the unmasked hostility seeping into his skin like poison.


    This was their land.


    Their territory, no, their home.


    And in it, he and his companions were the monsters.


    Borris, the towering bearkin, walked stiffly beside Kelly, his massive arms crossed over his chest.


    His usual, quiet demeanor had darkened into something tense, something wary.


    "Why did the lord bring them here?" he muttered under his breath, his deep voice gruff with unease.


    Kelly, ever composed, adjusted the sleeves of her robe.


    "I don’t know," she admitted, her golden eyes flicking toward the growing crowd. "But let’s trust Lord Korran."


    Without another word, she walked ahead.


    Borris hesitated, then followed.


    Kevin, of course, grinned as if nothing was wrong.


    But even he, the wildest of them all, kept his distance from Asael and the others.


    The heart of Beastwell was nothing like the rest of the town.


    Here, stone pillars rose like jagged fangs, surrounding a grand hall that loomed over everything else.


    Beasts of war—massive, armored creatures with glaring eyes and sharpened tusks—stood chained at the entrance, their breaths coming in deep, rumbling huffs.


    And at the center of it all, seated upon an immense throne of carved stone, was Korran.


    His presence was a force unto itself.


    The moment Asael stepped inside, it hit him—a pressure, a sheer commanding weight that made the air feel heavy, as though the very walls were leaning in, watching.


    Even seated, Korran’s form was monumental.


    His battle-worn armor, etched with old scars and claw marks, barely concealed the sheer power of the body beneath it.


    His dark-striped fur rippled with each subtle movement, the muscles underneath shifting like coiled steel.


    And then there were his eyes.


    Golden. Piercing. Watching Asael like a predator watches its prey.


    Slowly, Korran leaned forward, his massive fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne.


    "Welcome, hero," he said at last, his deep voice rolling through the hall, calm yet edged with something unreadable.


    His lips curled into a smirk, baring the hint of sharp fangs.


    Asael’s fists clenched at the greeting, his spine stiffening. He refused to falter beneath that stare.


    "Why did you call us here?"


    Korran tilted his head slightly, studying him, his expression unreadable.


    Then he leaned back, the smirk widening.


    "I have something to show you."


    A pause.


    Asael narrowed his eyes. "To us? What is it?"


    Korran’s claws tapped against the stone, slow, deliberate.


    "Not today," he said. "Tomorrow."


    His gaze swept over Asael’s group, gleaming with amusement at their evident frustration.


    "For now, rest. You may use that house." He gestured lazily toward a stone building outside the hall, as if the decision was nothing more than an afterthought.


    Asael ground his teeth, but he knew there was no choice.


    They were surrounded. Outnumbered. Watched.


    One wrong move here could mean death.


    He exhaled sharply, forcing the tension from his shoulders. "Fine."


    But just as he turned to leave—


    Korran’s voice dropped, low and quiet.


    "Oh… and one more thing."


    Asael stopped.


    The room seemed to darken, the very air thickening with an unseen weight.


    "Don''t do anything foolish."


    The golden in Korran’s eyes gleamed, cold and unyielding, his voice lowering to something almost a growl.


    "You are in my territory now."


    It was not a warning.


    It was a promise.