The night had once more asserted its dominion over the vast expanse of the Fiora forest. The towering trees swayed in harmony with the cold, whispering wind, serving as an eerie harbinger of an impending menace lurking beneath the inky canopy.
Gideon emerged stealthily from the depths of the forest, his elongated nose twitching with an uncanny precision that betrayed his intent. Lucy's village lay far behind them, a fading memory now, as the merciless enslavers who had razed the peaceful settlement embarked on their sinister journey. In pursuit, Gideon and Lucy had trailed them discreetly, maintaining a safe distance from their quarry.
Bathed in the silvery embrace of the moonlight, Gideon's true form was unveiled. His obsidian claws glistened ominously, releasing tendrils of inky smoke that seemed to writhe with a sinister life of their own. His once pristine white coat had transformed into an abyssal black, and the jagged spines adorning his back appeared even more malevolent, gleaming with a deadly intent.
With eyes as dark as the night itself, Gideon surveyed his surroundings, relying on his acute sense of smell to pinpoint the exact location of his prey. A malevolent grin curled upon his lips, like a harbinger of doom.
"It is time," Gideon murmured, his voice resonating with a chilling certainty. He began to raise his head, poised to deliver a speech befitting the gravity of his mission.
"It is time, indeed," Lucy's voice chimed in, abruptly interrupting Gideon's solemn monologue. She emerged from the shadow of a neighboring tree, her feline ears twitching with an almost childlike glee. Her disposition, so naïve and jolly, was a stark contrast to the sinister aura that surrounded Gideon.
Gideon's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head, his frustration palpable. "And there goes my epic speech for tonight," he muttered, conceding defeat to Lucy's exuberance.
Lucy regarded Gideon with wide, innocent eyes. "Ah, I'm sorry. You can try again, though. I promise not to interrupt this time."
During the few hours of being together, Gideon and Lucy had grown close. She had come to see him as her hero, and this newfound camaraderie eased the tension that weighed heavily upon their shoulders. While this could be advantageous for Gideon's plan, he had perhaps underestimated Lucy's unbridled warmth and cheerfulness. Lucy was a soft cushion against the prickly exterior that Gideon wore like armor.
With a resigned sigh, Gideon relented. "Never mind. I'll proceed now. Stay here, and please, refrain from touching that little guy. You wouldn't want your hand to be corroded by it," he warned as he began to distance himself from Lucy.
Lucy scoffed, her gaze fixed on the colossal creature behind. "I wouldn't exactly call that thing 'little.' It's the size of a mountain," she remarked, a gleeful smile illuminating her features.
Gideon continued his departure without looking back, though he paused for a fleeting moment. "A girl who uses joy as a shield against the encroaching darkness of her emotions," he muttered to himself, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "I don't think that's healthy." Shaking his head, he shrugged off the thought. "Whatever. Not my problem. I'm no therapist," he concluded before employing his *Roll* ability, swiftly traversing the hundreds of meters to reach the campfire.
Gideon navigated the moonlit night with the grace of a shadow, his lithe form slipping silently through the dense underbrush of the dark forest. It took mere seconds for him to reach the clandestine campfire of the ruthless hyenakins, their presence scattered throughout the woodland clearing like a swarm of malevolence. The flickering campfire cast eerie, dancing shadows upon their savage faces as they reveled in their wicked merriment, drowning their senses in the intoxication of stolen spirits.
A hundred of them, perhaps more, populated the campsite, their guffaws and raucous laughter echoing ominously in the otherwise serene night. Beyond the rowdy hyenakins, there lay a grim tableau—ten carriages of cruel iron cages, each imprisoning majestic creatures, the lionkins. These magnificent beings, known for their strength and nobility, had been cruelly captured and shackled, destined for the inhumane fate of slavery.
With an air of casual nonchalance, Gideon infiltrated the camp, a solitary figure weaving through the shadows of debauchery and debasement. His senses remained vigilant, absorbing every detail of the scene around him. His diminutive size, a gift in this treacherous endeavor, rendered him nearly invisible amidst the revelry, allowing him to approach the cage carriages undetected.
While he moved with the grace of a wraith, his keen eyes caught a brief, heart-wrenching glimpse of a group of hyenakins tormenting an elderly lionkin on the ground. The aged lionkin's anguished groans filled the air as the hyenakins callously kicked him, their laughter a cruel symphony of sadism.
Gideon averted his gaze, a mask of indifference shrouding his emotions. He pressed on, his determination unwavering, until he reached the line of cages that held the captive lionkins. A gentle smile, as incongruous as a whisper in a tempest, played upon his lips as he surveyed the imprisoned kin.
Within the cages, the lionkins huddled, their powerful bodies constrained by iron and despair. Upon seeing Gideon approach—a small, enigmatic figure shrouded in an aura of ominous darkness—their golden eyes widened in astonishment.
"Greetings, my friends," Gideon spoke with deceptive courtesy, his voice an unsettling contrast to the malevolence that clung to him like a second skin. "Isn't it a most splendid night? I am in search of someone, a kin of yours by the name of Leo Feria. Can you point me in his direction?"
Silence hung in the air, the lionkins exchanging furtive glances filled with confusion. Finally, one among them leaned closer to the iron bars, fixing their gaze upon Gideon.
"If you seek Leo," the lionkin began, their voice tinged with a mix of fear and resignation, "he resides in the foremost cage of the caravan. The one adorned with spikes and ensnared by chains of unforgiving iron. Leo fought valiantly against the hyenakins... So," they paused, their voice trailing off.
Gideon's smile widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction. "Ah, so Leo still draws breath," he mused aloud, a weight lifted from his conscience. "This spares me the burden of explaining to Lucy how her brother met his end." With that, he turned and made his way toward the front of the caravan, the lionkin from the cage following in his wake.
"Lucy... Is she safe?" the lionkin inquired anxiously, their voice trembling with concern. "I've been tormented by thoughts of her. Pray, tell me she is unharmed."
Gideon did not answer, but the reassurance in his silence spoke volumes. Relief washed over the lionkin as they hurried to keep pace with the enigmatic hedgehog.
Stopping before the cage that served as Leo's prison, Gideon's eyes were drawn to the imposing figure within. Leo Feria, the lionkin leader, dangled in the air, ensnared by chains that encircled his legs and neck. His golden mane swayed gently with the nocturnal breeze, his visage carved from determination and fortitude.
His lean and battle-hardened form bore the brutal scars of relentless warfare, adorned with the grotesque remnants of dried blood staining both his tunic and countenance. Utterly vanquished, he stood as a poignant testament to the merciless toll of battle's fury.
The elaborate security measures of his cage bore testament to the fierce resistance he had offered before succumbing to his captors.
"You must be Leo," Gideon declared, his words aimed at rousing the lionkin from his introspection. "I must admit, you've exceeded my expectations."
Leo, in turn, raised his head, his countenance a symphony of resolve and strength. Though he and Lucy shared the blood of kinship, their features diverged significantly. Leo's face bore the weight of experience, etched with rugged contours that bespoke his leadership.
Furrowing his brow for a fleeting moment, Leo scrutinized the unassuming creature before him—a small animal swathed in an aura of sinister intent, its smile veiling malevolence that no longer sought concealment.
"Who are you?" Leo's voice held a note of confusion, his eyes searching Gideon's enigmatic form for answers.
Gideon's smile widened, a paradoxical expression on his small, inscrutable face. "The name is Gideon Brangwen," he replied calmly. "I am but a humble hedgehog."
*Lionkin: Level 19*