In the forest, hidden from prying eyes, inside the old hangar, the freed slaves were gathered, quietly talking among themselves as they shared what little food they had. Their faces, marked by exhaustion and deprivation, were finally beginning to relax after their liberation. Some had found a corner to lie down and were sleeping deeply, lulled by the soothing sounds of the forest outside. For them, this was a precious respite after endless days of abuse and exhausting labor under the yoke of their oppressors.
Aria lay motionless in a dark corner of the hangar. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, revealed the depth of her sorrow. The tear tracks on her cheeks were still visible, a testament to the intensity of her grief and despair.
Despite repeated attempts by her tribesmen to comfort her, no words, no gestures of kindness could ease her pain. Aria remained silent, her gaze lost in the void.
The weight of her guilt was, for now, too heavy to bear. Every second was marked by the relentless remorse consuming her from within. She knew that if she had kept her composure, her mother would probably still be alive. But in a moment of weakness, she had allowed anger and resentment to take hold of her, sealing her mother's fate. The memory of that fatal instant replayed endlessly in her mind.
Elsewhere in the hangar, the other freed slaves wondered what their future held. Uncertainty weighed heavily on their weary spirits. As murmurs rose among them, a burly man with leopard fur draped over his shoulders spoke out:
"Can we really trust that man? What proof do we have that he won't betray us?"
His question echoed through the hangar, charged with palpable bitterness. Though he had been saved, distrust still poisoned his voice. His reaction revealed the fierce hatred he harbored toward the human race a hatred shared by many others present.
"He's right! Humans can't be trusted!" someone else shouted.
"Maybe he saved us, but what will he do with us afterward?" another added, their voice laced with fear and suspicion.
"We can't trust humans!" cried a woman, her eyes hard as stone.
"That's right they destroy everything they touch! Monsters without morals!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, strengthening the belief that their supposed savior might in fact be a hidden threat.
"We should leave before he comes back!" one voice suggested, panic rising.
"Or we could rest, regain our strength… and then strike first!" shouted another, defiance burning in his tone.
Hatred and resentment clouded their reason, driving some to consider turning against the very man who had saved them. Years of suffering and betrayal had left deep scars, making trust nearly impossible.
But not all shared that hostility. A few of the more rational and grateful ones rose up against the spreading wave of hate.
Lissia stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger and disgust.
"Do you even hear yourselves? He saved your lives, and now you talk about attacking him? You're pathetic!" she shouted, her voice trembling with indignation.
"She's right," said the young beast girl whom Logan had rescued during the encounter with the prince.
"He risked his life for us for you and you're already plotting behind his back, blinded by your hatred."
"But he's human! They're our enemies!" snarled one of the men, his face hardened by years of pain.
"He's right!" another agreed, bitterness thick in his tone.
"Have you already forgotten what they've done to us?" someone else cried out.
"He risked everything for us! You ungrateful fools!" Lissia retorted, her frustration boiling over.
The tension inside the hangar was palpable thick enough to choke on.
Two factions quickly began to form: those who saw in their rescuer a potential ally, and those whose hatred for humans ran too deep to be overcome.
The arguments turned to shouts, and the shouts soon to violence. Fists flew, and chaos consumed the room that had once been their refuge.
Cirus lunged at Lissia with uncontrolled fury. Caught off guard, she barely managed to block his blow.
"Where does your loyalty lie, huh? With us or with the humans?" he roared.
"Go to hell! I'd rather stand with him than with you!" Lissia shot back without hesitation.
"Then you betray your own kind for a man you barely know? You side with humans? Then you deserve death for treason!" Cirus howled, his voice echoing like a death sentence.
The hangar erupted once more into chaos. Those who shared Cirus's hatred rallied to him; others joined Lissia's side. The air filled with the sounds of fists, cries, and the dull thuds of flesh on flesh.
But in the midst of the chaos, something else began to stir a cold wind snaking through the hangar. In an instant, a surge of frost exploded from one side of the room.
A wave of ice engulfed those who had spoken of turning against Logan, freezing their bodies where they stood. Only their heads remained free, their expressions locked in shock and fear.
Then came the voice cold and merciless, resonating like the cracking of ice:
"You want to leave? And go where? The moment you step outside, you'll be captured or sold again. Fight Logan? You weak, cowardly creatures who bite the hand that freed you?"
The voice sent a chill through every heart.
"For a man who risked his life for you a cause that brings him nothing but the threat of death from his own kind you dare to show such ungratefulness? Disgusting."
It was Aria.
Her killing intent filled the air, suffocating. Her mana swelled, making the walls tremble. Her bestial form was terrifying her eyes glowed with a deadly light, her presence radiating a cold fury that made even the bravest tremble.
"You want to leave? No one's stopping you. But if any of you dare to raise a hand against Logan or even insult him again I will tear your head off myself."
The frozen slaves swallowed hard, terror etched on their faces. They knew she wasn't bluffing. One wrong move, and she would make good on her promise.
Aria turned away, lying back down after delivering her warning.
In the end, none of them left. She was right they had nowhere to go, and their fear of her wrath outweighed any thought of rebellion.
Meanwhile, at the royal castle, the carriage carrying Stanislas, Marie, and Logan finally arrived.
Inside the grand hall, the king, his family, Moïse, Zem, and the heroes were already waiting. They sat around a long, gleaming white table reflecting the soft light of the chandeliers.
As the group entered, the castle's servants bowed respectfully and led them through corridors lined with tapestries and portraits of past monarchs. The entire place radiated power and history every stone whispering tales of ancient grandeur.
Finally, a maid's voice rang out at the entrance to the hall:
"The Guild Master has arrived."
"Finally," said the king with an eager smile, ready to begin the long-anticipated meeting.
The Guild Master entered with his usual commanding presence, Marie at his side. Shawn and his companions watched him curiously.
"So that's the Guild Master," thought Shawn, exchanging glances with the others.
Maïli, as usual, paid little attention to the scene.
But then, the room tensed abruptly. Another figure entered behind them and Shawn's face twisted in shock and fury. Maïli's eyes, on the other hand, lit up with emotion. The king's smile vanished, replaced by a stoic mask.
Sarah noticed the sudden change in her brother's expression. His face had contorted into that of a wild beast.
He remembered that face all too well black hair, crimson eyes, filled with disdain and defiance.
"What's he doing here?!" shouted Shawn, his voice trembling with rage.
Stanislas observed every reaction with a faint smile.
"This young man," he said calmly, "is an adventurer under my guidance. He's indispensable to this meeting."
"Him? Indispensable? You must be joking!" Shawn barked, disbelief mixing with anger.
Logan's cold gaze met his. For a brief moment, Shawn froze. An invisible weight pressed down on him, locking his throat and stealing his breath. It was as if a predator stood before him—one that could tear him apart at any moment.
The king, Moïse, and Zem all felt it too. Though stronger in rank and skill, they understood instinctively that if Logan truly wanted to, he could slaughter everyone in the room.
The king was shaken. How had this "failure" this outcast grown so powerful in such a short time? They had all been summoned into this world together, and yet Logan had somehow surpassed them all.
He also sensed the intense animosity radiating from his son toward the young man. But he couldn't allow the situation to spiral this meeting was far too important.
"Please, be seated," he said evenly, trying to regain control.
They all took their seats Logan beside Maïli and Stanislas, directly across from Raphaël.
The Guild Master began his report, recounting recent events in detail. Attacks on nobles and humans had increased drastically. Multiple guilds and informants had confirmed the same alarming trend.
He described the major incidents the Sea Serpent, the raids on nearby villages, and the triple assault that had occurred recently (though he carefully omitted that Logan and his allies were behind it).
"We're dealing with an organized force," Stanislas concluded gravely. "A coalition of multiple races acting with precision and coordination. We don't yet know their ultimate goal but their hostility toward humanity is undeniable. And their attacks will only grow in scale and destruction."
The hall fell silent.
First, because thanks to Logan's actions, they had identified the threat sooner than expected.
Second, because the mere thought that "inferior races" were rebelling defied their worldview.
And third because they now faced not only dungeons but an emerging organization bent on their destruction.
When the report was done, Stanislas handed the king a thick ledger filled with intelligence reports.
The meeting was drawing to a close until Shawn spoke again, his voice trembling with anger.
"You expect me to believe that this classless nobody did all that? It's a lie!"
Stanislas couldn't help but smile. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.
"Then why don't you see for yourself?" he said, his tone almost teasing.
The king's jaw tightened. He knew how this would end. Yet refusing would only tarnish his pride and the Guild Master knew it.
"Either way, his pride will take a blow," Stanislas murmured with a knowing grin. "Better to lose with honor than to flee like a coward."
Resigned, the king nodded.
"Very well. We'll meet again in fifteen minutes on the training grounds," he declared, bringing the meeting to an end.
As they left, Maïli and Logan walked together.
He told her about his journey after being cast out of the castle though he deliberately left out certain truths, something she noticed immediately.
"You're hiding something," she said, narrowing her eyes.
"You always read me too well," he replied with a faint, uneasy smile.
"I'm your childhood friend it's normal," she said softly.
"There are things I can't tell you yet. I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize. I understand especially since I'm… with them."
"Against your will," Logan murmured gently.
"But with them nonetheless," she admitted with resignation.
Maïli then opened up about the trials she had endured. The memories came rushing back, tears soon streaming down her face. Logan held her tightly, trying to comfort her, even as his own rage stirred within.
But she left one truth unspoken the terrible event that had taken place between her and the prince. The pain and shame were too deep, too raw. She knew that if Logan ever learned of it, he would lose control… and likely commit an act he could never undo.
And then, as if fate itself sought to test them, the prince approached Sarah by his side, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.
"Oh, so you two know each other," he sneered. "You're the one who got kicked out of the castle, aren't you? Shame Father couldn't see your potential."
Logan remembered him perfectly the sadistic man who took pleasure in tormenting a helpless girl. Choosing silence, he took Maïli's hand and turned to leave.
But the prince's wicked grin widened. He had found the perfect way to provoke him.
"What's the rush? Don't you want to hear about the fun Maïli and I had together?" he said mockingly.
Logan froze. Then, slowly, he turned back toward him.
"What are you talking about?" Logan asked, his tone glacial.
Maïli tugged on Logan's arm, silently pleading with him to leave, but the prince went on, his voice dripping with venom.
"Why, about the little intimate moment Maïli and I shared."
Logan's expression didn't change. His eyes remained cold and unreadable.
The prince, eager to break that composure, pushed further:
"At first, she wasn't very cooperative… but with a little persuasion" he sneered. "You should've seen her, struggling not to cry, trying to stay strong while I was inside her."
A suffocating silence fell over the room. The prince smirked, convinced he had achieved his goal.
"You're pathetic," Logan said flatly.
He knew exactly what the prince was trying to do provoke him into something irreversible.
Even if the words were true, even if every fiber of his being screamed to tear the monster apart, Logan forced himself to stay calm. The effort it took bordered on inhuman.
Instead, he decided to turn the provocation against its source.
"I already knew what kind of worthless trash you were when we first met," Logan said coolly, "but I didn't think you were this pitiful. I remember a pathetic little prince who attacked me once and whom I spared. If you weren't royalty, you would've crawled on the ground like a worm, begging me to let you live. Without your title, you're nothing just filth clinging to the floor. Then again… filth runs in the family. Like father, like son."
A vein pulsed visibly on the king's temple. How dare this wretch speak to him that way?
He, the man whom everyone treated with reverence and fear, who had always gotten what he wanted now being insulted by a mere outcast.
As Logan turned his back, an uncontrollable rage flared inside the king. A blazing inferno erupted from his hands and shot straight toward Logan and Maïli.
"Logan!" Maïli cried out.
But before the flames could reach them, they twisted violently and reversed course rushing back toward the prince and princess instead.
It happened so fast neither of them could react. The prince broke into a cold sweat, while Sarah's gaze remained fixed on Logan.
She couldn't look away. From the moment she had first seen him, something about him had captivated her his presence, his composure, his crimson eyes glowing with that otherworldly light that made her heart race.
"Logan, not the princess!" she shouted.
"Don't worry," he replied calmly. "We had observers."
A figure appeared between the flames Moïse, who barely managed to dispel the fire before it consumed its targets.
He cast a sharp glance toward Logan, who met it briefly before turning his eyes toward a dark corner with a faint smile.
A shimmer of light revealed the king, emerging from concealment as though nothing had happened. Logan and Maïli, however, were already gone.
"They spotted us from the start," the king said through clenched teeth.
"How is that possible?" Moïse asked, frowning. "He's nowhere near our level. Even with a detection skill, he shouldn't be able to sense us not through our concealment spells."
"We can't read his status either," Moïse added. "He's wearing an artifact that blocks analysis."
"We'll learn more soon enough during the fight," the king replied grimly.
Alone at last with Maïli, Logan asked her to tell him everything.
As she recounted what had happened, a deep, murderous rage began to rise inside him.
But for now, he could do nothing except hold her, offering what little comfort he could after what she'd endured.
Still, one thought burned relentlessly in his mind.
When the time came… he would kill Raphaël slowly, painfully and make him regret every breath he had ever taken in this world.
---
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