"How much longer I'm supposed to wait for you to wake up?" scoffed Mo'an as she mercilessly kicked her brother out of bed.
The young man rolled on the floor like a broken doll before crashing into the wall with a loud thud. Several books fell from the shelves on the wall, and one even hit his forehead, right between his brows.
Still, Shi'an kept on snoring as if nothing had happened. His eyelids didn't even twitch. Usually, just calling his name was enough to pull him out of his sleep, yet today, it seemed like this Sleeping Beauty didn't want to leave dreamland no matter what.
"Well, it seems like the sleeping powder works a bit too well," mumbled the teenager to herself, a wry smile on her lips.
The medicine was supposed to be effective for at most five hours, and she had feed it to her brother more than six hours ago just in case. Hence, waking up her brother should have been an easy task, and that was why she hadn't hesitated to feed him the medicine yesterday.
"The effectivity of the powder is way stronger than what I was told," tsked Mo'an, clenching her fists to restrain herself from venting her anger on the poor, innocent wall.
The soldiers were scheduled to arrive in a dozen minutes or so, and the Empire men had a lot of defaults, but they were strangely punctual, always right on time. When they arrived, both of them had to be at the public square to receive them. Otherwise, those arrogant bastards would definitely take it as an affront and make things difficult for them.
Therefore, she couldn't wait for the drug to naturally wear off; she had to wake up her brother in one way or another.
'I'm so gonna beat that damn liar to a pulp. Who said he could pawn off on me his crappy powder without fearing the consequences? Does he have a death wish?' sighed Mo'an in her heart, visualizing every way she could torment the man even if she knew she wouldn't have the time to take revenge.
Soon, a sweet yet devilish smile stretched her lips, and she turned on her heel, dashing out of Shi'an's room.
A few seconds later, the teenage girl came back and poured a bucket of cold water on her brother's pretty face.
The poor man woke up in fright, his big, round eyes darting everywhere until they met Mo'an's. Then, he lowered his gaze and stared at the empty bucket she was holding in one hand. No need to be a genius to understand what had happened.
"What was that for?"
"Well, it looks like yesterday tired you out a bit too much," lied the teenager through her teeth. Shaking the bucket under her brother's nose, she added, "You didn't want to wake up, even after I kicked you out of bed, so I opted for the bucket of cold water. It worked quite well."
Shi'an furrowed his brows. His sister's story sounded fishy, but before he could ask for more details, Mo'an gently reminded him, "The soldiers will arrive in a few minutes, so you better get dressed and move your ass to the public square."
"Why didn't you say that first!?" roared the young man, tossing his quilt aside before changing into dry clothes, not caring at all whether his sister was in the room or not. Once done, he grabbed his luggage, saying with an anxious voice, "Let's go!"
Within five minutes, they had left the house and sprinted to the public square like madmen. Surrounded by their fellow tribe members, their friends, and their parents, the siblings stood amid the crowd with their head held high. Although leaving the tribe made them depressed, they wouldn't show it on their face. There was no way they would give the soldiers this pleasure.
While waiting for the convoy's arrival, Shi'an glanced at his sister, who stood on his left, and it was only then that he noticed the earring dangling at her ear. Upon seeing it, his eyes grew wide, and he felt like his jaw was about to fall on the ground. Still, he shifted his eyes elsewhere, keeping his emotions in check. Later on, he would have all the time in the world to ask her about how La'en's earring ended up on her ear.
Then, as his eyes traveled downward, Shi'an caught a glimpse of a ring on his sister's thumb. A small smile stretched his lips. So, his parents did put aside the tradition and gave her the family heirloom. Since the disappearance of his big brother, this ring should have become his because he was the eldest child known to be alive, but he felt more at ease seeing it on his sister's finger. She needed it more than him, and she was also a more suitable heir than him.
Little by little, people talked less and less, and the whole public square was plunged in silence. Soon, with their keen ears, they could hear the hooves of the horses pounding on the ground and the clatter of the soldiers' armors, and everyone's face became deadly serious. A few minutes later, the convoy was in sight.
Around fifty soldiers sat on their black horses, chattering among themselves. They lacked discipline, but they still held their back straight, making Mo'an wonder if they had swallowed a stick. In the middle of the convoy was a luxurious carriage with the Empire's emblem on its doors, followed by two covered wagons.
The tribe observed their progression in silence, hiding their hatred deep into their heart.
After their defeat many years ago, they were ordered to build a road large enough to accommodate the Empire's soldiers so they could easily travel back and forth in the jungle. For years, they had to clear the vegetation from the path that would connect the jungle edge to their village. Then, they had to pave the road, which was a few kilometers in length, or else the wheels of the Empire's carriages would sink into the mud, irritating the soldiers and the envoys to no end.
Back then, even the youths of their tribe had no other choice but to lend a hand to carry out this 'holy task' bestowed on them by the Emperor, helping by delivering the meals to the workers or transporting the stones when they were strong enough to do so. That was how Mo'an and her friends developed their stamina when they were young, running back and forth between the construction site and the quarry, a bunch of rough-cut stones tied on their back. They did so every day from morning to evening for almost 2 years.
Along the way, they decided to entertain themselves by competing on who would bring the highest number of stones in a day. Because the competition pumped the four of them up, the warrior that accompanied them in case a beast was to attack the group of youths sometimes had difficulties keeping up with those four little monsters. Thinking back on the poor man, who was often more exhausted than them, Mo'an couldn't help but smile slightly. Although the construction of the road had brought many sufferings to her tribe, it still held some of her most fondest memories.
Mo'an slowly closed her eyes, tossing aside the memories that started to overflow her mind. She didn't think she would end up so sentimental just before leaving. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and turned her head toward her brother, who was looking at her with worry. She nodded at him and then mouthed, 'Don't make that face, you look ugly!'
Choking on his own saliva, Shi'an felt like an idiot. Fine. He wouldn't worry about that girl anymore. That inconsiderate sister of his didn't deserve his concerns!
Upon seeing his children bickering, their father sighed and elbowed them to call them to order, and the two siblings shifted back their attention to the convoy, which had stopped at the foot of the gigantic trunk. If the soldiers wanted to climb up to the public square, they had to dismount and use their own two legs to walk up the stairs carved into the trunk.
A soldier got down off his horse and opened the door of the luxurious carriage. With a hand on his heart, he respectfully bowed, and a tall man stepped out.
His armor was slightly different from the other soldiers, drawing the attention of all. The rims were golden, contrasting with the dark colors of the armor, and no sword hung on his hips. The heads of tree snakes that represented the Hydra, the Empire's Emblem, were also engraved on his breastplate instead of painted, making the mythical creature appear more vivid.
The man yawned, then glanced over his shoulder. Someone inside the carriage seemed to tell him something, and he smirked, carelessly waving his hand before closing the door. He picked three soldiers to come with him and started to climb the stairs.
There were around a hundred steps, yet the man wasn't even panting when he reached the public square. Well, the same could not be said of the three soldiers by his side. The men had tried to keep up with their superior's pace and were now out of breath, resting their hands on their knees as they tried to regulate their heavy breathing.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, Mo'an stared at the man, scrutinizing him without an ounce of shame. He appeared to be in his late thirties, but appearances could be deceiving. His white hair was cut short, and he had two scares on the edge of his right eyebrow. His strong jawline was covered with greyish stubbles, enhancing his overall nonchalant demeanor, but his grey eyes were piercing and held wisdom that couldn't be completely concealed.
"I'm Greyson, and I'm in charge of this year's recruitment. But before that, I would like for Shi'an and Mo'an to step forth."
The two siblings glanced at each other but quietly obeyed, standing proudly in front of the people of their tribe.
The man scanned them and nodded. They both corresponded to the description. Since their appearance was quite catchy, it was almost impossible for their parents to switch them with someone else's children. Honey skin, black hair, golden eyes, and panther's attributes assembled together into a single individual wasn't common. To begin with, panther hybrids had always been quite a rarity, so Greyson was pretty sure those two were the tribal chief's children.
"Who is who?"
"I'm Shi'an."
"I'm Mo'an," lazily answered the teenager.
Greyson sized her up, then commented as he raised his brows, "Hmm... You don't look sick."
"I got better over the years. You know, hybrid's healing capacities and all," shrugged Mo'an, not surprised by the man's comment. The tribe had always portrayed her as a weak, sickly child, after all. "Don't worry, I look healthy, but I'm as strong as a cute little kitten, very harmless. You don't get over the jungle's diseases so easily."
"You little sh–," grunted one of the soldiers while the other two gripped the hilt of their swords.
With a movement of his hand, Greyson stopped the soldiers' attempt to teach the beastman some manners. He didn't even look at them and also didn't say anything, but the soldiers seemed to realize they were out of bounds, and their faces quickly turned deadly pale as they stepped back behind their superior.
As for Shi'an, he had the urge to sew his sister's lips.
"Is that so," grinned Greyson, seeming quite amused by the answer. "So, as you know, I'm here to recruit some young men or women for the army of the Empire. Anyone wants to serve in the military along with those two? There are good rewards at hand, so it's not a really bad deal. Well, raise your hands if you're interested."
The half-baked explanation left the whole tribe speechless. They were used to the pompous speeches, and now that they were facing such an unenthusiastic, nonchalant man, they didn't know how to react. Some even wondered if they just had an auditory hallucination.
"No one is interested?" repeated the man, scratching his eyebrows.
"We are!"
Upon hearing the voice, Mo'an straightened her back and glared in the direction where it came from, only to see Tiel and Nael standing together a few meters away, a backpack on their shoulder, and a hand raised above their head.
'What the f*ck are they doing!' screamed the teenage girl in her heart, desperately hoping that she had heard wrong.
"Age?"
"We're both 18 years old," politely answered Nael, shattering Mo'an's hopes.
"Good. So, anyone else?"
Only a dead silence answered his question.
"Then, let's go."
The man turned on his heel to walk down the stairs, not even glancing back to make sure the four new recruits followed behind him. He knew he didn't need to.