According to Neev, Lacca is the capital of the Lachian Kingdom. Opposite to it is the Religious Principality of Sovren, which is not on good terms with the Lachian Kingdom. Why?
Because the Lachian Kingdom enslaves Faunus.
"The Prince of Sovren's mother is Faunus," Neev explained. It has been two weeks since our exodus from slavery. If only some kind of god would call me to the top of a mountain and bestow upon me some grand prophecy, maybe this journey would feel more goal-oriented.
"So the prince is Faunus, too?" I asked.
Neev shook his head.
"Have you not heard of the legend?"
Now it was my turn to shake my head.
"Faunus are born with half a soul. Because of this, they borrow a deceased animal's soul. With it, they can be reborn into the world."
"Reborn?"
"Yes," Neev said as if that was common sense. I didn't bother probing further. At least now I knew reincarnation was something people here found perfectly normal.
Just when my feet had formed sores and I was ready to collapse from exhaustion, I spotted small dots in the distance. Someone in the group shouted that it was a town—gleefully, stupidly. At once the former slaves rushed ahead of us.
But it was already too late.
The "dots" weren't rooftops or chimneys at all—they were riders. Dark shapes on horseback cresting the ridge, the glint of metal flashing each time the sun caught on a blade.
"Turn back!" I shouted.
Dust rolled down the hill like a slow breath, and the riders spread out in a fan, blocking the path to the town that didn't actually exist.
Then the first arrow flew.
It buried itself in the ground inches from a man's foot. He didn't even scream—just stared at it like it was a misplaced twig. The second arrow hit someone in the shoulder, and that's when the silence shattered. Screams erupted. People scattered. Someone crashed into me as they turned to run back the way we came.
The raiders charged.
They came down the slope like an avalanche—focused, practiced. The moment they reached our fleeing group, they began grabbing people by the arms, the hair, the collars of their ragged clothes. Anyone slow enough to be caught was thrown over a saddle like a sack.
Neev grabbed my wrist and yanked me behind a fallen tree. "Stay low," he hissed. I didn't argue. My legs weren't working properly anyway.
The ground shook every time a horse passed. I forced myself to look up and saw one of the raiders leaning down from his saddle, snagging a young girl by the neck of her dress. She kicked and screamed, but he didn't care. He hauled her up, tied her hands, and moved on to the next.
"Neev… we have to help them," I whispered. This wasn't like me, but seeing people I was in the same situation in made me think... If that happened to me, I would want to be rescued too.
He didn't look at me. "We can't help anyone if we get captured again."
The raiders were fast—too fast. Within minutes, half our group was bound and screaming, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. The remaining ones hid, silent and trembling, behind rocks, trees, or in shallow ditches.
Then the leader raised a horn and blew a single, long note. The riders turned their horses around, dragging the captured survivors behind them. Dust swallowed them as they disappeared into the horizon, leaving behind only trampled earth, a few dropped belongings, and the sound of someone sobbing into their hands.
My stomach turned.
So this is why the slave drivers needed a guard dog.
We had to completely reroute and regroup. Many of the former slaves insisted they would be safer if they weren't traveling in such a large group, so they splintered off into smaller clusters. Those who believed they'd have better chances with Neev stayed with us, heading in the opposite direction. Now, apparently, we had to cross a mountain to reach our destination.
"Good luck," one of the bitter ones muttered as he turned his back on us. "It's clear he's bonded to her. He'll only protect her."
Of course, I rolled my eyes. That's exactly what I want, but apparently subtlety is wasted on some people.
Still, the words lingered. I didn't miss the way a few of the others exchanged glances—quick, sharp, calculating. Whatever envy or resentment they'd built up over the past two weeks had started fermenting into something meaner.
And apparently…
someone had already made a plan to change that.
That night, when I opened the flap of my tent, I froze.
A woman was inside—kneeling on the rug, completely naked.
I didn't even need to ask what she was doing. I knew. Everyone knew. Her plan was obvious!
My hands moved before my mind did. I grabbed her by the hair—fistfuls of it, yanking her head back. She hissed, then bit into my wrist like a feral animal.
I smacked her across the mouth.
"How dare you," I breathed, shaking with fury. How dare you try to seduce my dog? Pathetic, really.
A firm grip closes around my wrist just as I raise it for another strike. I jerk back, ready to fight whoever's interfering—only to see Neev standing there, eyes fixed on me.
His hand isn't rough. His fingers are calloused, yes, but his hold is careful. Controlled.
"I need you to leave," he says.
My heart stutters—I think, for one dreadful second, that he means me.
"Now," he adds, and it's directed at the woman.
His voice drops into a tone I've never heard from him before: a low command, sharp enough to cut through the air. It makes my toes curl.
The woman scrambles out of the tent, naked and beaten.
Neev has always stayed close to me ever since that night he protected me—quiet, accommodating, never raising his voice at me. But moments like this remind me:
This man is also a beast.
If he wanted to kill me just for being annoying, he could rip me apart with those long, sharp teeth.
"Why are there tears?" he asks. I blink, confused—and then one tear does fall down my cheek.
"Did you hurt yourself, Usha?" He asks tenderly.
"N–no," I say. At least, I don't think so. "Sorry."
We sit in the tent—quiet. The sounds of crickets and sparse leaves rustling fill the space between us. I can feel my control slipping, so I force myself to speak, to seize it back.
"Neev… do you think of leaving me?"
His dark brow arches. "Why would I think that?"
"Well, we… I'm not sure what we are, so you might find it more convenient to leave me."
"Are we not friends?" he asks.
"Yes, but friends can be apart for a long time," I said, trying to hint. Forget being half an animal, he is also a man.
Men are easy.
I take his hand in mine. "If you would like, you can…"
Then—nothing. Absolutely nothing comes out. The words die in my throat.
"Can…?" he prompts, completely missing the hint I'm practically shoving into his face.
I can't believe this. I mentally prepared myself for the possibility that one day I might have to use my body to seduce someone just so they'd stay with me—just so I'd have better chances of survival—yet this man is completely oblivious.
I lower my gaze, peeking up through my lashes, fluttering them.
He leans in slightly.
"Is there something stuck in your eye, Usha?" He squints, leaning closer, his thumb brushing my cheek as he tries to peer into my corneas.
"You're impossible!" I snap.
I yank myself away from him and curl up in the corner of the tent, facing away so he can't see my burning cheeks. Maybe if I bury my face deep enough into my knees, he won't sense the sheer humiliation radiating off me.
"The…" he began slowly, "the prince is not Faunus, despite his mother being Faunus."
I uncurled slightly. "From our earlier conversation," he added, as if clarifying a lesson to a child. "Because… it is a curse."
I rolled over to face him.
He was sitting close, knees drawn up, hands resting on them. His eyes lowered as he spoke.
"The Lacca believe it is a curse. That is why mating with a Faunus is prohibited. And even if…"
He paused. Looked away.
Was that embarrassment flickering across his face?
"Even if I were to mate with a human," he continued, voice quieter, "there would be no fruit borne from it. Male Faunus cannot… cross-breed."
Why is he telling me this?