Korran sat upon his stone throne, his massive frame casting long shadows against the flickering torchlight.


    His golden eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the three figures standing before him.


    Though they had served him faithfully for years, none of them could meet his gaze without feeling the weight of his presence—a presence that was suffocating, like a predator watching its prey.


    Morales, Kelly, and Borris stood in tense silence, waiting for his command.


    The room was eerily still, save for the occasional crackle of the fire.


    Finally, Borris, the bearkin warrior, took a step forward.


    His muscles were taut, his usual confidence laced with unease.


    “My lord, may I ask a question?”


    Korran exhaled through his nose, his lips curving ever so slightly.


    He already knew what his subordinate was about to ask.


    “I can see the question in your eyes, Borris,” he said, voice deep and smooth like a growl beneath his breath. “You want to know why I brought those humans here.”


    Borris gave a stiff nod. “Yes, my lord.”


    Korran leaned back against his throne, claws drumming idly against the armrest.


    His gaze flickered to each of them, measuring their reactions before speaking.


    “As you all know, Movok is dead.”


    The words were spoken without ceremony, but their weight crashed into the room like a thunderclap.


    Morales, ever calculating, narrowed his eyes slightly.


    Kelly cast a solemn glance downward, while Borris tightened his fists.


    They had all known it was coming, but hearing it aloud made it real.


    Just like their lord, Movok was one of three Demon King’s general.


    He was much stronger than them.


    Korran’s voice remained calm, measured. “His absence will slow demon king supply chain.”


    No one spoke. They all knew what he meant.


    The humans taken from raids—their captives—were the resources.


    Morales, ever perceptive, tilted his head slightly. “You intend to replace him.”


    Korran let out a low, satisfied growl. “No… I intend to secure something superior.”


    Kelly’s eyes flickered with understanding. “The hero and his party.”


    A slow smirk spread across Korran’s face. “Exactly.”


    Silence followed, heavy with unspoken questions.


    Then Kelly, ever the strategist, spoke again. “Then why bring them here? Why not capture them?”


    Her voice carried an edge, but Korran was unbothered. In fact, he chuckled.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    “Because they are strong,” he answered simply. “A direct fight would cost us as much as it would them.”


    His golden eyes glowed with a cruel amusement.


    “But if we break them first… If they surrender their will… Then they will become our resources willingly.”


    Borris took a step forward, his expression darkening. “And if they refuse?”


    Korran’s smirk did not waver.


    “They have no other choice.”


    ---


    As the sky melted into shades of deep orange and violet, Beastwell’s streets began to empty.


    The warm glow of lanterns flickered in the windows of homes, casting shadows along the stone paths.


    Most of the town had settled in for the night.


    But in one narrow alley, four small figures moved carefully between the shadows.


    The young cat beastkin, crept silently along the walls, her golden eyes flickering with determination.


    Behind her, the rhino, dog, and hawk beastmen followed hesitantly, their steps quieter than usual.


    “Are you sure this is okay?” the rhino beastkin whispered, his voice uncertain.


    She didn’t hesitate. “We have to watch them.”


    The dog beastkin, always wary, crossed his arms. “Yeah! We can’t trust humans.”


    The others nodded.


    They had been told since they were old enough to listen—humans were cruel creatures.


    They invaded, hunted, captured.


    They saw beastmen as monsters to be slain or slaves to be broken.


    And yet… these humans hadn’t hurt anyone.


    Not yet.


    Young cat pressed her back against the stone wall, peeking around the corner.


    Asael’s group was just ahead, moving through the alley.


    They weren’t talking much.


    Just walking, their expressions unreadable.


    “Come on,” she whispered, motioning for the others to follow.


    Quietly, carefully, they trailed behind.


    Then—


    One of them vanished.


    The group froze.


    “W-Where did he go?” She whispered, ears twitching. “I just saw him—”


    A voice spoke from right behind them.


    “What are you all doing?”


    A chill ran down their spines.


    The children yelled in surprise.


    Young cat jumped so hard that she lost her balance, tumbling backward into the rhino beastkin.


    The hawk beastkin, startled, flapped his wings in panic, only to crash into the dog.


    They collapsed onto the ground in a tangled heap.


    Standing behind them, arms crossed, was Steven.


    His sharp gaze studied them with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.


    A slow smirk tugged at his lips.


    “What?!”


    The little dog beastkin’s ears perked up in shock.


    “Run!!” young cat shouted.


    Without hesitation, the group of children scattered, their small forms slipping into the dimly lit streets like shadows vanishing into the night.


    Their tiny feet pounded against the ground, hearts hammering in their chests.


    But then—


    Thud!


    A sharp yelp of pain cut through the air.


    The little dog beastkin had fallen, his body curled up as he clutched his leg.


    Blood seeped through the fur, a jagged stone now slick with red lying beside him.


    “Oh no!” young cat gasped, skidding to a halt.


    The others hesitated, torn between instinct and loyalty.


    Running was safer, but their friend was hurt.


    Before they could react, footsteps approached—calm and measured.


    Anne.


    She moved without hesitation, her soft presence somehow even more startling than the looming threat of capture.


    Kneeling beside the injured child, she gazed at him with an expression far different from the cruelty they had been warned about.


    "Hey, are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with warmth.


    The little dog beastkin flinched.


    His breath hitched, fear locking his limbs in place.


    His mother’s warnings echoed in his mind. Never trust humans.


    They kill our kind. They took your father away.


    And yet—


    A golden light shimmered around her hands.


    Warmth spread over his wound as the glow wrapped around his leg like a soothing embrace.


    The sharp sting of pain dulled, then faded entirely.


    Torn skin closed, leaving no trace of the injury.


    The little dog beastkin stared at his leg in stunned silence.


    He flexed his paw. It didn’t hurt anymore.


    Anne smiled gently.


    "Are you okay now?" she asked again.


    He hesitated.


    His ears twitched, his tail curling slightly.


    Then, in a small, unsteady voice, he whispered,


    “You… you won’t hurt me?”


    His wide, golden eyes locked onto hers, searching for something—doubt, cruelty, deception.


    But there was none.


    Anne’s smile faltered.


    "Why would I?" she asked softly.


    Silence stretched between them.


    The little dog beastkin swallowed hard, his small hands clenching into fists.


    "Because my mother told me... Humans killed my father."


    The words fell like heavy stones into the still night air.


    Anne froze.


    Her hands, still faintly glowing, slowly lowered.


    She had no words.


    No apology could erase the pain behind that simple truth.


    A sharp voice broke the silence.


    "Hey! Run away!"


    The other beastkin had already started fleeing, calling for him.


    The little dog hesitated a moment longer, his ears flicking back, eyes darting between Anne and his friends.


    Then, without another word, he turned and ran.


    Anne watched his small figure disappear into the darkness, an unfamiliar weight settling in her chest.


    "Hero," Anne murmured after a long pause, turning to him. "What do you think about them?"


    Asael let out a slow breath, his gaze lingering in the direction where the beastkin children had vanished.


    The town had been watching them all day.


    Beastmen peered from doorways, their eyes filled with quiet wariness.


    Adults whispered amongst themselves.


    Children clung to their parents'' sides, their small bodies tense with fear.


    Fear.


    The same fear humans held for monsters lurking beyond their walls.


    The same hatred humans reserved for creatures they were told to exterminate.


    And yet, standing here, in this town where beastmen lived, laughed, and loved, Asael couldn''t see them as the monsters they were supposed to fight.


    They weren’t monsters at all.


    “I don’t know,” Asael admitted after a moment, his voice quieter than before. “But they’re far from what we thought they were.”


    Since their arrival, they had been met with nothing but silence and cold stares.


    Nobody spoke to them.


    Nobody welcomed them.


    Even the one exception—Kevin, the wild monkey beastkin—had known little.


    But tomorrow, that would change.


    A "show" was being prepared.


    And the only thing they knew for certain was that every single beastman in this town had been hurt by humans.


    It wasn’t surprising.


    The kingdom had flourished off of beastmen slavery for generations.


    Asael had seen it firsthand—noble houses treating beastmen as property, caging them behind gilded walls, stripping them of their freedom.


    A grudge was expected.


    But there was something worse beneath it all.


    Something deeper.


    Something neither he nor Anne understood yet.


    A slow exhale left Asael’s lips as he rubbed his temples, exhaustion creeping into his bones.


    "Well," he muttered, "let''s see what happens next."