Through its shifting veil stepped a figure. His frame was immense. He was not just a man, not beast, but something in between, a creature forged from both.

  A lion’s face, a mane of coarse gold spread around his head like a crown, and a pair of piercing red eyes.

  His body was a fortress of muscle, massive and corded from countless battles, each movement radiating raw power, yet he moved with an unhurried, predatory confidence, as if nothing could threaten him.

  His armor was strange black metal molded in flexible segments, shaped close to his body like cloth yet hard as plate, fitted close as if he was wearing a simple shirt and pant.

  Crimson gloves wrapped his hands, though the fingers were bare, the pale white tips visible like claws ready to tear. At his waist rested a sword, sheathed.

  When he spoke, his voice was low and resonant, rolling through the ruins like stone dragged across stone.

  Rowan: “Who are you?”

  The beast’s jaw shifted, lips peeling back just enough to flash the white edge of his fangs. His voice rumbled out, deep and unhurried, carrying through the broken streets like a slow drumbeat.

  Beast King: “Who I am can mean many things, child of man. Do you want my name? My allegiance? My nature as a whole? Whatever answer you seek—you won’t get it without sweat. Let’s make it fair. For every strike you land, I’ll give you one answer. But if I strike… you’ll give me one.”

  The silence pressed thicker than the fog.

  Rowan: “Is all this a game to you? Why—how could you do this? Tell me why!”

  The beast’s crimson eyes narrowed, then gleamed with cold amusement.

  Beast King: “Ah. Fresh blood. I hear it in your voice. You confuse rage for strength—like all the young do. Anger and vengeance may drive you… but they will not save you.”

  He ignored Rowan’s demand entirely.

  Tobias moved. His axe cut the air like a storm, a blur aimed straight for the beast’s neck. The blow should have cleaved through steel.

  But the beast simply raised his hand, caught the weapon mid-swing, and with a twist hurled Tobias aside. The man crashed through shattered masonry, the ground shuddering with the impact.

  The beast turned the axe over in his palm, idly, like a toy.

  Beast King: “An ordinary blade, yet you forge it into something overwhelming with aura alone. Impressive. A true Aura master.”

  He flicked the weapon into the air, spun it twice with the ease of a fan, then let it fly back. It whistled past Tobias’s cheek close enough to cut air, landing upright in the mud at his feet.

  Beast King: “You’ll need this.” A faint smile touched his mouth.

  Maeve answered with fire. Spears of flame rained from the sky, cascading from every angle. Rowan threw his weight into the fight too, his Resonance Blade vibrating, a sonic cage ripping into shape around their enemy, closing in like a dome of force.

  The beast only lifted his head. His body drank the fire like breath, the flames curling harmlessly into his chest and fading. With one hand, he raked the air, tearing Rowan’s sound barrier apart like cloth.

  Then he was gone.

  A blur.

  Rowan barely saw him reappear before a boot crashed into his ribs. Even a “light” kick sent him tumbling, body twisting through dirt and debris before he skidded to a halt, gasping for breath.

  Lena struck next. Frost spread over her sword, aura flaring as she leapt for his back, blade poised to cut deep.

  He caught her leg in midair. With a single motion, he slammed her into the stone, the impact cracking the ground. Ice shattered, frost melted to water, and that too hissed away into steam.

  Beast King: “I happen to be a fire user myself.”

  Only Maeve still stood firmly, spear leveled, flame burning bright in her grip. The others groaned, struggling to rise, their bodies marked by bruises and blood.

  Her voice shook, but she stood her ground.“You took a hit, you owe us an answer.”

  The beast’s laughter rumbled low. His eyes glowed like banked coals.

  Beast King: “So I do. But first, my questions. I struck twice, not counting the axe-man. Fair trade, is it not?”

  Maeve’s knuckles whitened around her spear. “What do you want from us?”

  Beast King: “Where is your hero, Cedric? Will he come… or is he somewhere else?”

  Maeve’s eyes widened.“What business do you have with him? Is all of this… for Cedric?”

  Beast King: “No. The slaughter, the cages, the bells—that is not for him. I simply wish to taste his strength. To test whether the ‘Chosen One’ deserves the crown he wears… before I tear it from him.”

  Maeve’s stomach sank. Her grip trembled. “Then who is behind all this?”

  The beast’s smile widened, sharp and terrible. He tilted his head as though listening to something only he could hear.

  Beast King: “Sorry, girl. You’ve already spent your questions.”

  Maeve lunged again, fury blazing in her eyes. She raised her spear high, fire bursting from its tip into a storm of burning javelins. The air roared with flame.

  But the Beast King was already behind her.

  A massive hand clamped down on her weapon, snuffing the fire with sheer grip. With the same motion, he swung the spear like a club, the steel shaft cracking into her ribs. Maeve choked blood, collapsing. His boot came down heavy across her chest, grinding her into the stone.

  She tried to cast a spell, her lips started to move and sparks of lightning blooming at her fingertips

  but the Beast King rammed her own spear into her face, the impact snapping her head back and scattering the half-formed spell.

  Maeve’s body twitched under the stomp. Her mana sputtered, her defenses broken as if they were nothing. The spearpoint angled down toward her throat.

  Before it could fall, a howl split the square.

  Tobias.

  His axe spun through the air, a storm riding its edge. But the Beast King only vanished. A blur of black and crimson.

  The next heartbeat, the monster stood behind Tobias, holding the axe like it weighed nothing. With a grin, he flung it back.

  The wind shrieked as the weapon tore past Tobias’s head and vanished into the mist, embedding somewhere far beyond sight.

  The two closed.

  Tobias’s fists met the Beast King’s claws in a clash that shook the ruins. Aura burned along his arms, wind screaming as his muscles surged. But the Beast King’s strength was beyond reason. One fist crashed into Tobias’s mouth, splitting his lip wide open. Another slammed into his jaw. His head whipped back, blood spraying.

  A massive hand grabbed his hair, yanking him down. A knee like a stone drove into his stomach. The crack of bone rang as Tobias coughed blood across the dirt.

  Maeve staggered back to her feet, her hands trembling as she invoked a spell far beyond what her battered body should have endured. A circle flared above her, runes burning white.

  The heavens opened.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  A pillar of pure white dropped from the sky, slamming onto the Beast King. Gravity thickened, a crushing weight pinning him into the earth. The cobblestones split under the force. His knees buckled as the spell pressed harder, pressing him down as if the world itself sought to bury him.

  Maeve screamed, voice breaking. “Stay down!”

  But the Beast King only turned his head.

  Even bound beneath the crushing magic, he moved. His claw tore through the ground, dragging his body forward against the impossible pressure.

  Toward her.

  Maeve’s breath caught. She couldn’t move.

  And then Lena was there.

  Her ice flared like a blizzard given form, her sword thrumming with aura as two massive blades of ice formed at her sides, swinging as though extensions of her will. Frost ripped across the square, every strike a storm, every motion faster than sight.

  She met him head-on.

  The Beast King slashed, fire erupting from his claws. Ice clashed with flame, the air shattering with each collision. For a moment, it seemed as if she might hold him.

  Then he caught her blade.

  His grip tightened. The ice cracked and splintered under his bare hand, steam rising as flame devoured frost. Lena poured everything, her speed, her aura, her mana into one desperate strike.

  It lasted a second. No more.

  His hand closed around her throat. He slammed her into the stone, the ground buckling beneath the impact. The air left her lungs in a single ragged cry.

  The white pillar still burned against his back, searing his skin raw.

  So he burned himself.

  A roar erupted from his chest, fire exploding outward in a wave so intense the sky itself seemed to ripple. The spell shattered, runes dispersing like ash on the wind. The entire circle in the heavens tore apart.

  Just as the Beast King stood fully free.

  And Rowan struck.

  His resonance blade drove into the ground, a dome of sound collapsing over the Beast King. Supersonic waves screamed from every angle, invisible force slamming into the monster’s body with relentless precision. Flesh quaked, armor cracked, the air itself turned into a weapon.

  Rowan roared, blood spraying from his lips as he forced every last shred of mana into the cage. “Fall!”

  The Beast King bent at the knee. The sound crushed him, beating at his chest, his limbs, his skull.

  And then, with a claw, he split the earth.

  The ground yawned open into a pit, and with one motion, he vanished beneath.

  The next breath, he erupted behind Rowan.

  A hand like iron seized Rowan’s face. He was slammed into the dirt. Once. Twice. The ground cracked with each impact, his blood streaking the cobblestones.

  A final kick hurled him aside, his body bouncing across the rubble.

  The square fell still.

  The four of them Maeve broken and bloodied, Tobias staggering, Lena gasping, Rowan barely conscious lay strewn across the battlefield. And the Beast King stood untouched.

  The Beast King tilted his head back and bellowed, not a roar, but a command that seemed to rattle the mist itself.

  From the fog lurched 5 undead. A hulking corpse-draped in rags, dragging chains that clinked as they scraped the ground.

  Shackled to those chains was a young girl of perhaps ten— thin, pale, green hair, her wrists and neck bound in cruel iron rings that bit into her flesh.

  The beast’s crimson eyes flicked toward her. His voice was calm, almost casual.

  Beast King: “Heal them. I want to see if they can stand again… I’m not done playing with them.”

  One of the undead spoke in a shuddering, broken voice,“She is a prime sacrifice… the master would never have allowed her to be used like this!”

  With a single slash, three undead fell, their bodies crumpling to the ground.

  The girl raised her trembling hands, a faint glow leaking from her fingertips. The light was weak, patchy, but it crawled across the battered bodies of Tobias and his companions. Flesh knit just enough for breath to steady, bones set but not strengthened.

  They rose again, staggering, eyes burning with fury, shame, and desperation.

  Rowan: “All together. Don’t hold back.”

  Maeve’s voice cracked with incantations. A pillar of white light slammed down on the Beast King, pinning him under crushing weight. Bolts of lightning tore the mist, fire spears rained in volleys, and earth itself buckled into spikes at his feet. She muttered another spell, pouring strength into her allies, her own veins burning.

  Rowan’s resonance blade howled, a dome of sound locking the Beast in place, waves of force hammering him from every direction. He drove beams, whiplashes, bursts that split stone into shrapnel.

  Lena coughed blood and screamed as she surged forward, aura crackling. Ice swords spun around her like fangs, her blade carving arcs too fast to follow. Every step left the ground frozen, every swing a storm of frost and steel.

  Tobias came barehanded. His axe was gone, but his fists struck like hammers. Aura stormed off him, wind slashing with each punch. He grappled, wrestled, teeth bared as he drove his raw power into the beast’s body, refusing to let go.

  The Beast King barely shifted.

  The fight was not long. It was not fair. It was not close.

  It was slaughter.

  When it ended, all four lay chained again, bodies broken, blood soaking their armor. Limbs bent wrong. Eyes swollen shut. Coughing red into the dirt.

  The Beast King stood over them, crimson eyes burning in the mist. Not a mark marred his body.

  Beast King: “This is your limit, heroes. But don’t worry—I won’t kill you… not yet. After all, I need you to reach Cedric.”

  Around them, the undead poured back into the streets. Screams rose as civilians were dragged away.

  The captives screamed, fled, clawed at the dirt, but the mist betrayed them. Undead seized women by their hair, dragged children by their legs, tore men from their families. Some fought to run, others simply collapsed, empty of strength.

  Tobias roared, pulling against the chains until his wrists split open. Rowan’s throat was raw from screaming. Maeve shook her head violently, spitting blood, trying to summon even a spark of flame, but her mana sputtered. Lena wept openly, body wracked, bile rising until she vomited in the mud.

  The heroes could do nothing but watch, gagging on their own blood, chains holding them down, while horror swallowed the town again.

  Bell after bell. The second. The fifth. The ninth. By the twelfth, the town was silent. The cobblestones ran black with blood. Only scraps of clothing, broken chains, and echoes of screams remained.

  What had been hundreds of hostages were now only a pitiful handful too weak to flee, too terrified to sob, The rest had been dragged into the fog, swallowed by it forever.

  The heroes cried. They cursed. They begged their bodies to move, to fight, to do something. But their strength was gone. Their weapons lay shattered. Their will, though burning, was shackled with them.

  The town was nothing but a graveyard.

  One undead spoke:“ master wants you to check the watch tower”

  Beast King:“ What, is there still some issue… fine, I will ”

  The Beast King’s heavy boots thudded against the stone as he left the square. His frame moved with that same unhurried confidence, each step deliberate, headed toward the leaning watchtower where the cracked bell hung.

  The sound of chains rattled behind him — the girl in shackles stumbling after, pale hands glowing faint as she was dragged along like a pet.

  as she passed by, the four still hung from stakes, bodies beaten near to breaking. Blood, sweat, dirt, they were shadows of themselves.

  From her finger, she sent forth a tiny spark of light, and with that, she and the Beast King vanished from sight.

  The girl’s light wrapped around them once more, knitting flesh just enough to hold them together.

  The chains clinked. Loosened.

  Rowan jerked his wrist, and the iron bent with a sharp twist. He collapsed to his knees, breath ragged, but free.

  The others followed coughing, stumbling, barely upright, but moving.

  “What… how did it happen?” Tobias rasped, half-carrying Lena, who was coughing blood, her legs barely holding.

  Maeve leaned on her spear as if it was the only thing keeping her alive. “It doesn’t matter—we need to do something.”

  Rowan:“Let’s run for now. We don’t have any other choice.”

  The others, with saddened expressions, agreed.

  They staggered into the open, ready to vanish into the mist.

  Then Rowan froze. His ears caught it first, the shift in the air.

  The Beast King had stopped at the base of the tower. He had turned.

  The weight of his gaze reached them before his shadow did.

  Rowan’s chest tightened. He looked at the others. Broken as they were, they wouldn’t outrun him. Not all. Not together.

  “Go.” His voice was sharp, cracked. “Don’t argue. Just go.”

  He raised his resonance blade, aura flaring wild. The sound exploded outward in a raw shockwave, an invisible force wrapping around Tobias, Maeve, and Lena.

  In an instant, it hurled them back not gently, but violently, sending them crashing into the mist in three different directions.

  “Run!” His roar followed them as their figures disappeared, swallowed by the gray.

  The Beast King arrived.“Hmph. Not good. That girl put me in a mess.”

  Rowan stood alone. His blade hummed in his grip, the sound rattling the air.

  The crimson eyes locked on him. The Beast’s mouth curled faintly, amused. “So you’re under some delusion that they’re safe just because they’re out of my sight?”

  Rowan spat blood, lifted his sword higher. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “I’m not letting you go anywhere, you fool. Not until I have breath in my body.”

  The Beast King laughed once, low, like thunder shaking the ruined town. “Child… No one can escape this mist, just like no one can escape our sight in this place. We will find them without issue. You saw it yourself, didn’t you? The hell that dwells in that mist.”

  [1 hour before Sinclair’s arrival]

  Lena crashed into the mud, breath ragged, sword slipping from her grasp. For a moment, she wanted to stay down, to let the weight of failure bury her.

  Tears stung her eyes as memory replayed—the Beast King’s grip on her throat, the helpless crack of bones, her blade shattering against his strength.

  A sob broke out, twisted with anger. “Too weak… I was too weak.”

  She picked up her sword, gripping it until her knuckles burned. The steel felt heavier than ever, yet she forced herself to stand, legs trembling.

  “I can’t stay down. Not now. I’ll find them… we’ll regroup. We’ll make a plan.”

  Her voice steadied, the shame and grief hardening into resolve.

  The mist pressed around her, cold and merciless, but she lifted her blade. Step by step, she began moving again.