732: Inside Lionheart
732: Inside Lionheart
She sighed once again, muttering something about how I should ask my slain enemies who never saw me ing before getting mauled to their deaths, but I no longer paid her any attention because below us, Lionheart finally loomed in full with its titanic walls, fortified towers, and golden banners flapping in the wind.
And my beloved mother and sister… Hold on just a little longer.
The wind licked my face as I dove headfirst toward the ground, witnessing Lionheart stretch out beneath me.
Its titanic walls were even more imposing up close: high towers rose into the sky like spears, each manned with watchful guards and armed with siege-grade spellwork.
Golden lion banners snapped in the breeze, but I didn’t feel awe.
I felt anger.
Natalie and Poppy were somewhere down there, trapped.
Caged.
Used.
Not for much longer.
I declared, focusing mana into my hands as I twisted in the air.
The first spell rushed through my body, casting a violet ripple around me.
“[Nullfloat].” My speed of descent dropped sharply, as if I suddenly became featherlight.
The wind barely touched me now.
Right after, I activated [Voidshroud], my cloak of invisibility.
The spell wrapped me in illusion, vanishing me from sight.
A brief shimmer, then nothing.
I was unseen, hidden to the naked eye.
It wasn’t perfect invisibility.
If someone had a sharp enough nose, they might sniff me out.
Or if some barmaid accidentally spilled juice on me, the liquid would float awkwardly in the air.
Furthermore, detection artifacts could also prove to be a big challenge.
But for now, I was the wind itself.
No one looked up.
No one ever did.
Thankfully, the lionkin were not known for their awesome senses but their overwhelming physical might.
Furthermore, there were many dogkin slaves around, so my scent wouldn’t arouse suspicion so long as I didn’t wander to off-limits locations.
Kitsara whispered with a theatrical sob as she left the embrace of my breasts.
I hissed as I narrowed my focus on a clear landing zone atop the outer wall.
she wailed.
I corrected.
With my descent slowed and form cloaked, I drifted down like a ghost, feet touching down upon the stone walls of Lionheart without so much as a whisper. ᚱÅΝồ𐌱Êṧ
No flash, no dramatic entrance, just a Void Stalker claiming her hunting ground.
I whispered to Master as I pressed myself to the shadows of the battlements.
All around me, the guards continued their rounds, unaware that I had just landed among them.
Master replied.
The view from up here was… overwhelming.
Lionheart lived up to its name.
Not in courage, but in size.
From my perch atop the outer wall, I saw what looked like a city choking on its own numbers.
The ramparts alone were lined with an innumerable sea of lionkin soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, each armored and armed, peering toward the vast battle camps far in the distance.
Thousands of colored banners fluttered beneath the horizon, each representing one of the clans and allies in the temporary beastkin alliance.
Master’s cold, confident tone instantly calmed my heart down.
Master was right, as always, which was evidenced by some of the lionkin who were muttering to each other in low tones.
"Why haven’t they attacked yet?”
"Maybe they’re building siege weapons… Tigerkin love their fire artillery
"I saw that bearkin chieftain yesterday… he was covered in blood and smiling like a mad man.”
But then one lionkin, younger than the others, barked over their hushed doubts, “Stop that!
Leohtar Sunfang has led us from being one of the many contenders of the Beastman Confederation to being its undoubted rulers!
He’s the blazing sun of our people!
He’s never led us into darkness!”
I whispered, amazed how he’d always wind up being correct.
Master replied calmly.
I smirked smugly at how awesome Master was, then began slipping away from the outer battlements, sticking to the shadows just for good measure.
Lionheart grew louder and denser with every step I took inward.
This wasn’t a city anymore.
This was a fortress choking on its own populace.
Narrow alleys were blocked by stacked crates of supplies.
Civilians huddled in clusters outside shuttered shops.
Makeshift shelters made of bedsheets and canvas lined the streets, housing the overflow of refugees, the outsiders who had e from every corner of the lionkin territory to seek protection behind these formidable walls.
Mothers cradled crying infants.
Priests handed out rations.
Some lionkin children were crying, overwhelmed by the sea of unfamiliar faces.
The tension was thick enough to chew on.
And through it all, there was a smell beginning to rise.
A familiar one.
I whispered.
Master replied, his voice playing the role of a steady anchor in my mind.
The scent grew thicker as I pushed deeper.
Faint traces of foxkin, wolfkin, tigerkin, and many more, but most potently—dogkin.
The city might’ve tried to make them vanish into the background, but their scent told me the truth.
They were here.
Packed together.
Trapped.
Waiting for salvation that may never e.
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