Above Beastfall City, a shimring do of light enveloped the sprawling urban mass. Not a single drop of rain made it past the barrier. Instead, the downpour clung to its surface, flowing in synchronized, srizing streams—almost like the city itself was breathing, all of it funneling toward so unseen point.
Ethan looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"They're collecting Skywater," Inugoro explained, his deep voice like gravel rolling in a drum.
Ethan nodded slowly. So, Beastfall City figured out how to harvest water like this. He took a longer look at the city's architecture, his interest freshly piqued. It reminded him of Earth—at least the comfort of civilization after days of traversing the rciless desert. The buildings here, carved from smooth, pale stone, felt like palaces compared to the wastelands they'd crossed. And best of all, there were people.
"Sir! Looking for a place to stay? We've got everything—humans, beastkin—your pick!"
"And you dare solicit custors with those half-breed mongrels? Gentlen, co to our inn—pure-blooded cat-girls only!"
Ethan blinked. Before he or his companions could even speak, the two innkeepers were already at each other's throats, fists flying in the muddy street.
They were looking for a place to stay—but these two inns were an easy pass. Even if pure-blooded cat-girls held a certain appeal, that wasn't their priority.
Uncle Jed, was already grinning ear to ear at the chaos. He even gave Ethan a wink, prompting the younger man to rub his nose and look away, mildly embarrassed.
"You there—stop!"
Just as they were about to pass the squabbling innkeepers, a group of rough-looking humans appeared behind them. A dozen or so, all exuding the kind of stench that scread street gang. They blocked the path with practiced ease.
The leader, a burly man with one milky eye, pointed directly at Ethan. "You," he said coldly, smugness dripping from his voice. "Miss Verlaine wants to see you. Co quietly."
"Get lost."
Ethan's answer was curt and final. He didn't let the man finish his threat. From the mont they showed up, he knew exactly what this was about. Miss Verlaine? More like Madam Verlaine, the queen of so back-alley brothel. They'd clearly gotten wind of the Tier 4 core he'd casually flaunted at the gates. Probably thought he was an easy mark.
Inugoro had warned him—Beastfall wasn't like the Forgotten City where murder happened in broad daylight, but it wasn't a paradise either. Here, they lured you off the street, robbed you quietly, and dumped your body in a ditch.
"You little brat—you've got a death wish!"
The one-eyed man stepped forward, reaching for Ethan's collar. He'd already sized up the group. The two human n—slim, not threatening. The won? Not even worth noting. And the beastfolk? Just a Greatfang Tiger and an Underworld Hound. Nothing to fear inside city walls.
What he failed to consider was what would happen before the walls ca into play.
Slap!
Before the man's fingers touched cloth, Ethan's hand connected with his face. Half his teeth flew out in an arc.
Smack!
The backhand sent the rest.
The man tried to scream—but Ethan followed with a punch to the nose so hard he swallowed his own teeth instead.
The rest of the thugs hesitated, but too late—Uncle Jed was already moving. With a spin and a flick of his spear, he reversed his grip and used the blunt end to systematically floor every one of them. Thud after thud. Twelve in total.
Crunch. Crunch.
"Aaaaargh—!"
The gang moaned and scread as Ethan walked calmly among the downed n, breaking bones with thodical precision. Legs, arms, ribs—one by one. He did it all while smiling, which made it infinitely worse.
"Uncle Jed, did you skip breakfast or what?" he asked cheerfully, delivering another brutal kick.
To the onlookers, the young man might as well have been a demon.
"Why live like dogs when you can walk like n?—No offense, Inugoro."
Ethan tossed the comnt over his shoulder. The Underworld Hound's face turned a very specific shade of green.
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"Ethan, let's go!"
Uncle Jed suddenly grabbed his arm, nodding toward the street. A hundred soldiers in polished armor were storming their way, boots pounding the cobblestones. They looked organized, deadly—and they weren't coming for tea.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. Run or fight? His true goal wasn't sightseeing—it was conquering this city. He didn't enjoy scheming in the shadows. If he could win, he'd fight. If he couldn't, he'd flee, grow stronger, and return.
The demon core burned in his pack. He could feel it now—power, tangible and waiting.
Boom.
Right then, the ground trembled. A low, ominous vibration spread through Beastfall City.
"An earthquake?" Ethan extended his Soul Sense. Nothing. But then he noticed sothing else—the ground beneath the city wasn't ordinary. It had been reinforced with sothing… ancient.
Boom!
The second tremor confird the direction: the west.
Boom!
Civilians toppled. Shouts rang out. The guards charging toward Ethan and his group ca to a sudden halt. Their captain turned westward, his brow twitching. Then, with a scornful grin thrown Ethan's way, he turned and led his soldiers in the opposite direction.
"He thinks I'm lucky? You're the lucky one, actually" Ethan muttered "Let's go," he said a mont later. "We're checking this out."
He was curious now.
From the south ca a shout, urgent and panicked.
"The Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers are back! Close the city gates!"
—
"City Lord, the Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers are attacking the city walls!"
From the western tower, several officials stood behind an elderly man clad in dark blue robes. Their faces were pale, eyes fixed ahead.
Out on the horizon—tens of miles away—a colossal creature lood, easily a thousand ters tall.
"Priest Gorr," the City Lord said without turning, "What do you make of that?"
Gorr stepped forward, squinting into the distance. "Reporting, my lord. The Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers haven't attacked a city in the Sea of Death for over ten thousand years. And that… that giant…" He hesitated. "I've never seen anything like it. Not even in scripture."
The City Lord didn't respond. His silence was telling. Why ask if you don't know either? Gorr's look seed to say.
A small bat fluttered down, landing on a ssenger's shoulder. He unrolled the scroll it carried and read aloud, "Reporting! The Clearspring City convoy has entered through the East Gate."
Another bat arrived just monts later. The scroll this ti was shorter—and far more disturbing.
The ssenger's face twisted in disbelief.
"Read it," the City Lord said calmly.
"Silas, the convoy manager from Clearspring… is dead. Along with three subordinates."
The man paused.
"They died from… uh… anal rupture, anal fissure, and ruptured appendix."
A visible twitch ran through the City Lord's hand. His composed expression cracked just slightly. The silence that followed was thick.
"Who did it?" Priest Gorr asked quickly.
"Preliminary judgnt… suggests they were engaged in, um… homosexual activity," the ssenger said hesitantly.
"Bullshit!" Gorr snapped. "Silas has done business here for years. We know what kind of man he is—he's a damn womanizer! He wouldn't even shake hands with another man if he didn't have to!"
The priest's voice rose—but the City Lord rely turned and said one word: "Investigate."
He then glanced at Gorr, his expression unreadable.
The priest stiffened. The look hadn't been loud, but it had spoken volus. Gorr lowered his eyes. Maybe he'd reacted too strongly.
Boom!
The colossal beast in the distance suddenly moved. Its tail slamd into the desert, sending out a shockwave of sound and dust. A horn-like roar followed—ancient, primal.
Then the earth erupted.
From every direction, endless swarms of Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers surged forward. A sea of chitin, fangs, and fury, rushing toward Beastfall City with unstoppable force.
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