'Shadow… it's time to eat, you hungry bastard,' Ali thought with a trace of irritation as he reached the bottom of the steps. For too long now, he had felt the constant gnawing presence of the beast behind him—an unrelenting hunger that pulsed with a pressure of its own, whispering into the back of his mind, demanding to be fed. Shadow's appetite was monstrous.
Ali had grown tired of dragging around a living engine of starvation.
"Bite," Ali commanded softly—just a single word spoken under his breath, quieter than the creak of old wood. None of the shouting bandits below noticed it. They were too busy watching the brawl, too wrapped up in their filthy contest.
But something was about to grab their attention.
Something terrifying.
GRRRRRRRRRRRR
The air at the far end of the massive hall rippled, warping violently as a black portal tore itself open near the opposite wall—directly across from the blood-stained throne of the bandit leader.
A chilling wind blew through the hall. Shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally.
And from the gaping void emerged a monstrous dragon head, rising like a nightmare from a different dimension. Thick black scales coated its enormous snout. Its jaws opened wide, displaying a cathedral of razor-sharp, bone-crushing teeth—each longer than a man's arm.
The head was so massive, its top jaw smashed through the second level balcony, shattering wood and stone as easily as dry leaves. Screams erupted as the tips of the dragon's fangs impaled two bandits on the upper floor, lifting them screaming into the air like grotesque trophies.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
"RUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!"
Panic ripped through the bandits below like wildfire.
Time, from the perspective of the rabbit Demi-human inside the cage, seemed to freeze.
Just moments ago, these filthy men had been howling with laughter, making crude remarks, and placing bets on who would get to violate her first. Their disgusting jeers filled the room like the sound of vultures feasting.
And now?
Now they were screaming like children, eyes wide with fear, bodies tripping over one another as they scrambled to get away.
They stampeded towards their "leader," desperate for protection.
But none would arrive in time.
SPLASH—BITE—CRUNCH—AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
Shadow lunged, lightning-fast, as the dragon's maw crashed into the crowd.
Dozens of bandits were caught in a single bite. His teeth tore through armour, bone, and sinew, shredding their bodies like wet paper. Arms flew into the air. Legs vanished beneath grinding jaws.
The black dragon chewed, swallowed, devoured.
Blood sprayed across the stone floor like crimson rain. The dragon let out a satisfied snort, smoke puffing from its nostrils as it eyed the survivors—those few unfortunate souls who remained standing in horror.
Some of the bandits, in blind desperation, hurled their spears and axes toward the monster.
But the weapons bounced off harmlessly, not even scratching the thick, obsidian-hardened hide of the summoned beast.
Shadow didn't even flinch.
At the far end of the room, the bandit leader had staggered to his feet in time to witness the massacre. His bloodshot eyes widened as he saw the black dragon rampaging through his men.
But then—
A sudden flash of crimson fire streaked through the air, slicing toward him.
Ali's lightsaber, flung with perfect precision and accelerated by the Force, came whistling through the air like a streaking comet.
The leader barely reacted in time.
He raised his jagged black spear, gripping it with both hands. A weak, green glow began to form around it. The hue pulsed as his life force fed into the weapon, just strong enough to prevent the blade from melting instantly against Ali's energy weapon.
CLANG!!
The impact shook the throne behind him, and sparks flew into the air. The bandit leader growled with effort, bracing himself to repel the attack.
Inside the cage, the rabbit girl crouched in the corner, eyes wide as one of the bandits—one of the grotesque men who had been fighting for her like an animal—was bitten in half by the dragon.
His torso was gone. His legs collapsed beside the cage in a heap of gore.
The floor beneath her feet was flooding with blood.
She stared in disbelief. Then her eyes drifted upward—toward the second floor. There she saw him. The man in black.
The one she remembered.
Ali now stood in mid-air, hovering at the second level's height, surrounded by a storm of spinning chain.
His spear whipped around him like a silver blur, moving at supersonic speeds, slicing through anything in its path.
Everywhere it flew, limbs and heads flew with it. Screams echoed for a second—and were then cut short.
He was butchering them.
Massacring them.
Blood painted the wooden rails. Organs splattered across the walls like thrown paint. The crowd above had no chance. He was cutting through them in clusters—moving too fast to track, too brutal to stop.
Inside the cage, the Demi-human couldn't move. She stood frozen in the centre of her prison, trembling as blood poured around her feet, turning the floor of the hall into a grotesque red pond.
THUD.
She flinched.
Her ears perked up as she turned and saw the man land right in front of her cage, his back turned toward her.
The massive dragon head now loomed behind the cage. It was slowly licking the floor with its serpentine tongue, lazily collecting the blood and viscera. Its massive eyes glowed with hunger, but it no longer needed to kill—it was feasting.
Truly, this was a creature of nightmares, a beast born of shadow and slaughter.
Ali, unmoved, now turned his gaze back to the Bandit Leader.
The man was panting, arms trembling, his forearms pulsing with thick veins as the green hue around his weapon intensified.
Finally, with a guttural cry, he pushed Ali's lightsaber away, sending the blade flying back into Ali's open hand.
The moment it landed, Ali reactivated it with a low hum.
Ali's expression was unreadable, calm and cold as stone. But his very presence seemed to smother the room. The leader's grip faltered.
He had just watched over ninety-nine of his men die in the span of a minute.
Now he was alone.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" the Bandit Leader roared, slamming the base of his spear into the stone floor. A pulse of green light burst outward in a wide shockwave, intended to push Ali back or at least intimidate him.
It passed through the room.
But when it reached Ali, it did nothing more than rustle the edges of his clothes.
To him, it felt like a mild breeze.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!" the bloodied bandit leader roared, his voice echoing violently through the hall as he descended the throne's cracked stone steps. His face was contorted with rage and desperation, veins bulging across his neck and forehead. Blood oozed from the fresh wound carved across his abdomen, sliding down his torso and soaking the cloth around his waist.
"I will kill you for this!!" he screamed, summoning the last of his courage. His feet dug into the blood-slick floor as he lunged toward Ali with a wild burst of speed. His eyes flicked back and forth—between the calm, still figure of Ali and the monstrous, hungry dragon looming behind him.
STRIKE—CLASH!
Their weapons met with a loud and hollow sound. The bandit's jagged spear came down in an overhead arc, backed by his full strength and a flicker of green aura, but Ali met the blow with a single arm—unshaken. The shockwave of the impact released another weak pulse of green energy, flaring around their feet.
'Weak…' Ali's expression didn't change. His grip didn't shift. There was no resistance in his body. No tension.
The man had power. But not nearly enough.
'This guy can't help me…' Ali thought as he dismissed the idea of using the bandit leader to learn more about the mysterious energy—aura, as the locals called it. If this was all he could muster, then he wasn't even worth studying.
SLIP
Ali shifted smoothly on his heel, and in one elegant motion, he redirected the man's thrust with expert footwork and positioning. The opening presented itself immediately—and Ali took it.
His right hand shot forward like a bullet, stabbing directly into the man's already-damaged abdomen.
"UGH—AHHHHHH!!"
The bandit let out a raw, broken scream as Ali's hand sank deep into his flesh. His eyes bulged. Pain overwhelmed every nerve in his body.
Then—
His limbs froze. His mouth opened, but no words came.
He began to float, his body lifting slowly into the air, as if being pulled by invisible threads. His eyes widened in terror as he looked down at Ali, unable to move a single muscle. The grip of the Force had wrapped around him entirely.
Ali didn't even blink.
With a harsh pull, Ali ripped his hand free from the man's torso, tearing organs and shredded muscle from within. Blood and entrails spilled to the ground in wet, sickening slaps.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream that erupted from the man was inhuman, filled with agony and despair.
Ali took a calm step backward.
Then—
With one smooth motion, he swung his arm backward, and the dying man was flung through the air like a rag-doll…
…straight into Shadow's waiting jaws.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
Shadow bit down gleefully, relishing the crunch of bone and the warmth of blood. The beast's massive black maw worked hungrily, chewing the bandit leader as if he were little more than a tender snack. Flesh tore. Bones snapped.
Between the monster's jagged teeth, a small object tumbled free—a gold ring, still attached to a shred of red ribbon. It landed silently in a pool of blood at the foot of the throne.
As it touched the blood-soaked floor, red inscriptions across the ring's surface flared to life, glowing faintly. Slowly, blood began to creep toward it—inch by inch—as if drawn in by magic.
No one noticed.
Not even Ali.
His black eyes turned away from the carnage behind him and landed instead on the caged girl.
The rabbit Demi-human.
Ali's boots splashed through the puddles of blood as he walked toward her. He paused briefly beside the throne, grabbing one of the dirty blood-streaked cloths draped around it.
With slow, deliberate movements, he wiped the blood from his hands, cleaning away the gore of yet another slaughter. His face remained perfectly composed—mask-like in its stillness.
He stepped closer to the cage, eyes locked on the girl inside.
"Do you remember me?" Ali asked coolly, standing just outside the bars.
The bunny girl slowly raised her head.
Her fiery brown eyes locked onto his—and Ali studied them closely.
'She's a fighter. An enjoyer of life…' he thought. He recognised that look. That spirit. The kind of person who refused to accept mediocrity or limitations, who craved experience, risk, and freedom. It was that spark that had stayed Ali's hand before.
That, and the fact that she was a young and beautiful woman.
"Yes," she spat, her voice filled with fury. "You're the human who killed my brothers. How could I forget?"
She pushed herself up to stand, but Ali noted immediately the limp in her left leg. Her breathing was sharp. She was injured—but standing tall regardless.
"Brothers?" Ali asked coldly, tilting his head slightly. His voice lacked empathy—and the subtle mockery in his tone was unmistakable. "They looked like wolves, no?"
"How dare you mock my family—my people!" she snapped, gripping the iron bars tightly. Ali could hear the thick metal strain under her grip. Her strength was far beyond ordinary.
'Are they just naturally this strong?' Ali wondered silently, surprised.
"You attacked me without reason," Ali replied, unmoved. "Trying to kill me just for being human. I'd say your brothers got what they deserved. They chased after an unarmed woman and her infant—intent on murdering them, if I recall."
His words were as cold as ice. His expression unchanged.
"So what should I do with you…" he said aloud, cutting off her response before she could fire back. He raised his lightsaber, and the weapon's menacing red glow illuminated the cage in front of him.
The bunny-girl's expression changed instantly.
She could feel it—the raw heat pulsing from the blade, the same energy that had turned her comrades into corpses. It was unnatural, dangerous—terrifying.
Ali stepped forward. Slowly.
"I could kill you…" he said, his voice low, "…or I could leave you here. Let the humans from the town west of here find you. Let them drag you back in chains and sell you as a sex slave. I hear those are quite popular in these parts…"
He was now standing just outside the bars. His voice barely above a whisper.
"A girl like you… you would be very popular with the royalty. I'm sure they'd all want a taste of you…" Ali said, his voice flat but undeniably dark. The threat was cold, sharp—and calculated. He was leveraging what he knew of the world through the intelligence Miles had provided, using it not just to inform, but to intimidate.
Liza's expression twisted with disgust and fury. "I would kill myself before ever letting your kind touch me…" she spat, her voice defiant, even as her fingers trembled around the iron bars of the cage.
Ali studied her reaction carefully, noting the pain in her posture and the hate in her eyes. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, his tone shifting slightly as he recalled his lightsaber back into his inventory with a flick of thought. The blade vanished instantly—its red glow blinking out of existence like a snuffed flame.
Liza's brows furrowed. Her sharp eyes darted between his empty hands and where the weapon had once been. "Why do you care?" she asked warily. But her long, fur-lined ears—up until now pinned flat in fear—perked up just slightly. There was the faintest glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Answer my questions," Ali said, his voice quieter now, "and I just might let you go."
There was a pause. A silence that stretched like a held breath.
Then she answered, more softly this time. "Liza. That's my name. And I'm not a kid." The fight hadn't left her—only the volume had softened.
"Okay, Liza," Ali repeated her name deliberately. "How did you get into this situation?" He tapped two fingers against the cage bars, the metal ringing dully under the impact.
Liza's expression grew stormy. "I was on a lookout for safe routes in the forest when I fell into one of their traps," she explained, her voice tight. "They attacked me all at once. After that, I woke up in here." Her fingers tightened around the bars. She wasn't lying. There was no pause of hesitation, no signs of deceit.
'Miles, send me a tracker. A very small one—something I can attach to clothing,' Ali silently ordered via the interface. His face never changed, and Liza never suspected a thing.
"Why were you looking for safe routes?" Ali asked again. His tone was unchanged, but there was something expectant about it this time—like a test.
Liza hesitated. She blinked, her mouth half-open… then closed. But the silence didn't last.
"Because of you," she said finally, her words edged with bitterness. "You know our territory, and we thought you'd call the slavers on us."
Ali's brows rose ever so slightly. "The slavers? I see…"
He stepped forward.
Without warning, he placed both hands on the bars and gripped tightly—his fingers tightening until the muscles in his forearms flexed under his sleeves.
Then—
CRACK—BEND
The metal shrieked in protest as Ali forcefully pulled the bars apart, warping the thick iron with nothing but raw power and the subtle aid of the Force. Liza backed away instinctively, her wide eyes locked on the gap he'd just created.
Ali stepped away, opening the path.
"What are you doing?" she asked cautiously.
"Get out of the cage," Ali ordered, his tone stern and flat. Liza didn't move immediately. She stood frozen, tense and uncertain—then, slowly, she began to limp forward.
Her left leg was clearly injured. She winced with each step, her balance compromised. But she moved with the grace of someone used to pain. Someone determined.
Ali watched her carefully. Not just her movement—but her reaction.
"Listen carefully, Liza," he began. "I have a message for your people. One I want you to deliver."
Liza nodded hesitantly, her face guarded but attentive.
Ali continued, each word slow and deliberate. "I did not call for the slavers, nor will I. I offer a deal between your people and mine. I am Baron of the lands south of the kingdom—mainly Fortress Stork, if you know of it. I suggest we meet on the cliff overlooking my fortress. You, Liza, could act as a messenger between us."
Her mouth opened slightly, her breath catching in her throat. Her expression shifted—confusion… then disbelief… then awe.
She had never imagined hearing an offer like that from a human.
"Why?" she asked, her voice low and uncertain. "You're a human…"
Ali held her gaze, his black eyes unwavering.
"Why?" he echoed. "Because you are neighbours to my land. I harbour no ill will toward your kind. To me, you're the same as any human. And I believe a deal between us could benefit both sides massively. Of course, the decision is yours. You could hear my proposal and still choose to vanish into the forest, looking for a new home—one where you might encounter beasts stronger than you, or lords far more interested in selling you than working with you…"
Liza's arms slowly dropped to her sides.
Her gaze remained fixed on Ali, but now it was a different kind of look. It wasn't suspicion or anger.
It was… interest. Maybe even trust.
"So I can leave?" she asked again, quietly. Her voice had a tremble to it.
"Not yet," Ali answered.
Liza blinked.
Then—surprisingly—he turned around and walked back toward the throne. She watched him warily, unsure what to expect.
He bent down beside the bloodied throne and tore away a large section of red cloth, stained with dried blood and dirt. He approached her once more, and this time she took a cautious step back.
"Raise your left leg," Ali said.
She narrowed her eyes at him, confused. "Why?"
"Just do it," he replied.
There was something different in his voice now. Still cold—but not cruel.
After a moment's hesitation, Liza obeyed. She raised her injured leg with practiced ease, revealing her soft, muscled thigh and the brown-furred sole of her foot.
Her legs were long, powerful—clearly trained. But the pain was written across her face. And her left foot was clearly wounded, bruised and slightly swollen.
Ali knelt down silently.
He wrapped the cloth gently around her foot and ankle—not as a binding, but a support to help her stand.
Liza watched him.
She didn't speak.
She couldn't.
Ali's left hand moved with slow precision, his palm resting just beneath Liza's thigh. Her leg was light but firm beneath his touch—years of sprinting through forest underbrush and scaling trees evident in the taut strength of her muscles. He could feel her tense immediately under his grasp, her whole body shivering from his touch.
Liza's brown eyes flickered downward, watching his fingers as they carefully held her leg. Her heart pounded in her chest, thudding in her ears louder than anything else in the room. She gritted her teeth and looked away, trying to suppress the blooming heat in her cheeks.
'What are you thinking, Liza? Don't be stupid… he's a human—a disgusting human. Don't be fooled.'
That was the thought screaming in her head. The belief drilled into her since childhood. But none of those thoughts could mask the soft pink flush crawling across her face. Her cheeks burned, and her chest rose and fell with short, shallow breaths.
The man before her wasn't what she'd expected. He wasn't grotesque or brutish like the bandits. He wasn't twisted or evil like the nobles she'd heard horror stories about. He was… tall. Strong. Graceful. Inhumanly handsome. And dangerous in a way that made her instincts scream to run—but her body hesitate.
Ali said nothing as he wrapped the cloth around her leg, his hands surprisingly gentle as they circled her knee. The crimson fabric, torn from the throne's silken drape, was now a makeshift brace. With a single, practiced twist, he knotted it tight—offering some pressure and support to the bruised muscle and torn ligaments.
Then, without ceremony, he let go.
Liza's leg slowly descended, her foot touching the floor. She flinched at first, bracing herself for pain—but the sharp jolt she expected didn't come. The ache was still there, yes, but it was muted now—softened beneath the improvised support.
She looked down at her leg in quiet surprise. It wasn't a miracle, but it helped. And no one had ever done something like that for her before.
"What are you waiting for?" Ali's voice broke through her thoughts like a blade through fog. He took a single step back, his black eyes still fixed on her. "You have a message to deliver, no?"
He gave her a small smile—barely more than a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth. But it struck her like a thunderclap. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond. She just stood there, staring up at him, her ears twitching and her mind spiralling.
Then she blinked.
Her expression shifted from confusion to purpose. She nodded once—quick and sharp—then turned and limped quickly toward the door.
Her pace picked up as she neared the threshold. And by the time she reached the edge of the hall, her limp was nearly gone, her strong legs carrying her with speed again.
"Thank you!" she called out without looking back, her voice full of sincerity. Then she pushed open the hall's heavy doors and vanished into the fading night, disappearing past the blood-soaked gate and into the distant forest.
Ali stood where he was, his figure silhouetted beside the mangled cage, the wind drifting in from the open doors rustling his shirt faintly. He watched the gate slowly swing shut behind her, the metal creaking in the sudden stillness.
He didn't move.
He didn't speak.
But a faint glint flashed in his eye.
'She won't find it before she's already inside their camp…' he thought calmly.
Inside the cloth wrapped around her knee—tucked so carefully between the layers of fabric and heat-bound with a polymer thread—was a tracker. A microscopic chip, completely unnoticeable to the untrained eye. It had already synced with Miles's network the moment she'd crossed the threshold.
Her every step would now be recorded.
Every path she took mapped.
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