The Jungle of Havoc's Beasts
As the army marched triumphantly into Region 2, their presence fell upon the cities like a plague.
No corner was spared from their greedy eyes. Soldiers poured through streets and alleys, ripping apart homes, temples, and marketplaces. Every item of value was seized—gold, grain, weapons, even the ornaments on the walls. They left nothing behind, not even scraps for the starving who may be in hiding or may later return.
Supreme General Vincent Kim oversaw the plunder with his cold, calculating gaze. When the loot was heaped high in wagons, he presented it formally to the Emperor, Emperor Cailan Gravis, bowing in exaggerated loyalty. But the emperor waved a careless hand, leaving the distribution to Vincent Kim's discretion. Smiling like a wolf, the general claimed the lion's share for himself, tossing what remained to the other generals as though throwing bones to dogs.
The others accepted his dominance in silence, but in their hearts, fury simmered. Their eyes burned with unspoken resentment, with exaggerated sneering, and animated furtive reactions, yet none dared challenge the general's authority. Like pots sealed over fire, they fumed quietly, threatening to boil over.
From one city to the next, the vast army moved like a swarm of locusts, stripping lands bare and leaving only hollow ruins behind. In Region 2, the people had already fled, abandoning their homes long before the soldiers arrived. The conquest was effortless—until the march brought them to the edge of a vast, shadowed jungle.
Here, the air grew heavy. Strange calls echoed through the trees, low growls, piercing screeches, and guttural roars that made the bravest men grip their weapons tighter. This was no ordinary forest. This was the Jungle of the Beasts of Havoc—a place shrouded in legend and fear.
Stories whispered that long ago, the Beast God himself descended upon this empire, blessing certain animals with a fragment of his divine essence. They grew beyond their kind, towering to terrifying heights, with strength and wisdom surpassing men. Over time, they gained speech, reason, and a will of their own, choosing to isolate themselves within the jungle, indifferent to mankind's wars and empires.
Other tales claimed they were not born of this world at all—that they fell from the heavens as animal gods, seeking refuge in the wilderness. Some even swore the beasts had once stumbled upon the nectar of the gods, drinking deep of its power and ascending into unmatched monstrosities.
Whatever the truth, one thing remained constant: their strength was beyond dispute.
The weakest among them, it was said, wielded the might of a 4th Level of the Beyond Mortal Realm, placing them on equal footing with Supreme General Vincent Kim himself. If the horde of Havoc ever chose to attack, their combined strength could annihilate the emperor's 599,600 troops in a single, devastating strike.
And now, the vast army of men stood frozen at the threshold of that forbidden domain. The jungle loomed before them like a colossal wall of darkness, its trees rising like ancient titans, whispering secrets in the wind.
Suddenly—
"IF YOU ENTER THIS JUNGLE… YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE AGAIN!"
The voice thundered across the earth, shaking heaven and ground alike. It was not merely heard; it was felt—a primal weight that clawed its way into the very marrow of every soldier's bones. Spears rattled in trembling hands, horses neighed and reared violently, and hardened veterans who had marched through fire and slaughter turned pale as ash.
Even Emperor Cailan Gravis, lounging in his gilded carriage with Agatha—the once-proud mage now reduced to his trembling plaything—was jolted into reality. His goblet of wine spilled, crimson staining his robe as he stumbled out, his arrogance stripped bare in the face of the voice.
"Go around the jungle!" the emperor barked, though his command was unnecessary.
The soldiers had already turned, spurring their horses to the side, creating a wide berth around the treeline. Without being ordered, they had already branded that jungle as a death zone, one that even greed dared not trespass.
But not all were willing to yield.
Supreme General Vincent Kim sat tall upon his steed, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. His pride, his strength, his very name demanded he defy that warning. In his mind, strategies bloomed like sparks—perhaps he could strike fast, cut deep, test the mettle of this so-called myth. He was not a man who bowed to shadows or stories.
Then he saw it.
From the depths of the jungle, something emerged.
It did not walk so much as it manifested—a colossal figure straddling the boundary between ape and gorilla, yet unlike either. Its body was layered with muscle like iron cords, its skin dark as stone, and its eyes… its eyes were not those of a beast, but of something far older, far wiser, and infinitely crueler.
It towered to the height of a skyscraper, blotting out the light, and when its gaze fell upon Vincent Kim, it pierced deeper than any blade. It stripped away his bravado, his schemes, his command of nearly six hundred thousand men—and looked directly into his soul.
The general's heart thundered. Sweat drenched his palms. His breath caught like a child's before a nightmare. That single look pressed down on him with such force that his mind teetered on the edge of collapse.
Without hesitation, he yanked his reins and spurred his horse away, galloping as though hell itself was at his heels. He would never admit it aloud, but in that moment, Vincent Kim knew: had the creature chosen to act, not only he but every living thing within five hundred miles would have been reduced to dust and rubble.
Silence followed in the ranks, thick and suffocating. No one dared speak, yet one unspoken question burned in every mind:
"If Region Two holds such gods among beasts… why is it so vulnerable?"
The answer, though unknown to them, was simple.
The Beasts of Havoc did not care. They cared nothing for thrones, or empires, or the petty wars of men. So long as they remained undisturbed, they slumbered in their dominion, unmoved by the rise or fall of kingdoms.
Even if the sky turned yellow, even if the moon rose from the south, they would remain still. For to them, mankind was not enemy, not rival, not even prey.
Mankind was simply… irrelevant.