Curled up on the cold, hard floor, which would stay that way until everyone shared the same ground, Karl secretly traced his fingers to his backside. The hole was plugged with a soft, fluffy material. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out the fluff.
Plop! The sound reverberated through his body, followed by a wave of pain that consumed him, forcing him to grit his teeth even harder. This was his daily life—unplugging the fake beastman tail from his rear. It was painful, uncomfortable, and humiliating. Thankfully, the humiliation was something he had grown numb to.
For the past two years, since he had arrived at this place, this had been his routine. He also had a pair of fake ears, but those were stitched into his scalp. Pulling on those would cause bleeding that couldn't be hidden. As for why he did this? Survival.
Karl had long realized he wasn't a noble; he had no last name. And in the manor, human servants couldn't be children due to the law of the Sovereign. This meant Karl would have ended up as a beggar. Faced with that realization, and with the help of a friend who had died and left him his fur and ears, Karl now had shelter and something that could pass for food every day. The alternative was becoming a beggar, and he had heard stories about them—none with happy endings. He had reason to believe he had once been a beggar before coming to this place. He had memories, or perhaps he should call them the original Karl's memories. And though most of them were hazy, he did recall being a beggar on a cold, frozen street.
As for how exactly he had come to meet the cultivator, Karl was unclear. He had, of course, formed his own theories, such as adoption or slavery, but since he worked as a beastman and only acquired those parts after coming to the manor, he couldn't prove any of them.
The voices faded again, and the world disappeared around him.
Twice in the same night? The frequency is increasing. He thought as he immersed himself in the scene.
A city appeared, bathed in the golden light of the sun. Tall buildings, seemingly made of metal and glass, loomed everywhere. Countless people walked around, holding sophisticated objects in their hands, scrolling up and down. Mechanical constructs drove through the streets, and giant, bird-shaped machines zoomed through the sky.
The scene faded.
Karl closed his eyes, calming himself. That was a scene from Earth!
_____
Staring at the bubbling cauldron, accompanied by the squeals of pigs, Frederick smiled as a pair of pale hands emerged from the liquid. Soon, a head followed, then a body dressed in a black dress with a black belt.
Anette stepped out of the cauldron, her body completely dry despite the liquid she had risen from.
"Someday, I'll mistake you for one of my children," Frederick said with a smile.
Anette didn't immediately respond. Instead, she stared at the pigs for a moment before saying, "The Unseen Guards have found us."
"What?" Frederick snapped, his smile fading. "How?"
"I don't know," Anette replied. "But they arrived with the notary. They hid themselves inside the White-Blooded Knights."
"They hid themselves, or they simply wore normal armor, like shard armor?" Frederick asked for clarification.
"That was a genuine White-Blooded Knight. However, I'm unsure how the Unseen Guards managed to create a way to wear another creature. It's different from shard armor."
"It's simply evolution. The Sovereign and his people have always been experimenting, creating new evolutionary branches. Perhaps a unique result has been reached." Frederick did not smile as he glanced at the droves of pigs. "My children will likely be slaughtered today rather than tomorrow."
"We need to escape tonight... and we must take Karl," Anette said.
"The son of the fallen? Wouldn't leaving him here be the safer option?"
"Not when the guards have found us. They would likely figure out he's here from the connection. We need to take him," Anette said calmly.
"But does he know?" Frederick asked, lowering his gaze.
"He will learn and remember on the journey. We can't lose him again. I doubt we can survive this generation," Anette sighed, her eyes once again drifting to the pigs.
"All creatures are equal; their features are merely an addition," Frederick said, noticing Anette's gaze. He knew she had never been a friend to the pigs.
Looking at her ally, Anette exhaled a misty breath, her skin remaining pale. "We must leave now," she finally said before gradually sinking into the ground.
With her gone, Frederick smiled at his pigs, saying, "Survive, my children. I hope to taste you someday."
Lying on the hard, hot floor, Karl perspired as sweat laced his forehead. The heat had finally settled in, with all 40-something beastmen lying on the floor, their sheer body heat filling the room like a cauldron placed over a fire. The temperature was slowly rising, and it was still climbing. He desperately wanted to go outside, but moving from his spot could lead to one of the beastmen discovering that one of their own wasn't really one of them. So he could only grit his teeth, clench his muscles, and endure. This is what his friend had once told him—the same friend who had promised to build a utopia for the beastmen. Although Karl wondered how he would ever accomplish that.
Amid the howling winds outside, some beastmen quivered in fear of the night before returning to sleep. But Karl remained awake for special reasons. He couldn't always sleep. Whether it was the countless scenes that appeared to him or the fact that he was no longer in his world, many things contributed to his restless nights. If not for the rejuvenation brought by the scenes, he would have burned out long ago.
The door suddenly creaked.
Who's that? It can't be the beastmen. Is it the Task-Enforcer or the flesh cultivator? Karl half-closed his eyes, still watching the slowly opening door. Contrary to what people might imagine, beastmen were more human than animals, so they didn't have exaggerated hearing. Coupled with their fear of the night, most wouldn't wake up regardless of the noise.
A man dressed in a black cloak entered the stifling room.
Who? Karl frowned at the thought; thieves and kidnappers weren't exactly rare in this place.
The man was bizarre. He had a pale countenance and a bald head marked by numerous deep scars that stretched across and covered most of his face. His eyes, or rather, what resembled eyes, were more like two large black coins embedded in his skull, seemingly functioning as his vision.
To call the creature human was a stretch. Then, he slowly placed his hand over his back. A silver glint followed as a sword with edges like the teeth of an animal was unsheathed.
No! Karl quickly concluded. This was either a kidnapper or the flesh cultivator had finally exhausted his use for the beastmen. And letting them go was unheard of, so they would be eliminated. But to resort to hiring this? Weren't there more efficient ways to do it? Or did he want to make it look like an accident?
With a frown, Karl clenched his teeth as he quietly inserted the fur tail back into his backside. For something he had kept secret for years, doing so now was almost second nature. The man didn't even notice as he quietly, in steady movements, reached for a sleeping middle-aged beastman. Although beastmen weren't sensitive to the night, they were sensitive to other things.
He grabbed hold of the black fur tail and yanked it!
The beastman's eyes shot open, and his whole body jolted to his feet. His teeth were bared like an animal's, and a faint growl escaped him.
Beastmen were still beasts!
The man in the cloak glanced at the creature baring its sharp teeth at him. The beastman's hands stretched out as if ready to pounce. But without the claws that would have made him formidable, the creature before him was more like a child holding a small knife. The gods knew he had killed more than his share of those.
His blade moved, melding with the night, disappearing for a moment before reappearing above the beastman's head. The creature couldn't dodge and helplessly watched as the shadow of death descended upon him. In the next moment, a red line appeared across the beastman's terrified face. Blood gradually seeped out from it.
Thud! The head dropped, like the neck of a pig slit open by a dagger, whether maintained or not. Karl's frown deepened. This is a swordsman! So the cultivator did plan to kill them all. But thankfully, there are quite a few before they get to me.
Due to the beastman's whimper before his head was severed, the scent of blood, and Karl's tugging, numerous beastmen awoke from their slumber. They all saw their fallen comrade and a soft whimper echoed through the shed. Their teeth were bared in anger. Despite doing nothing when they had lost Volker, the beastmen could not tolerate death within their territory, especially from an unidentified man who could be a thief. To them, this was a matter of defending their domain. However, it would be a different case if the flesh cultivator was the one killing them.
Black worms with silver rings curled in from the stone walls—Rage Gu! Attracted by the anger, these creatures steadily approached the standing beastmen. Among them, a few had a brownish color—Sadness Gu!
The swordsman stared at the growing number of awakened beastmen, but despite this, they were, at best, the combined threat of a young boy holding a slightly sharper sword. Even the gods knew he had dealt with plenty of those
His chain sword, now dripping blood from its razor-sharp fangs, quickly vanished, and so did he. A young beastman, roughly between 17 and 19, collapsed. His head was gone, replaced by a fountain of red that spewed out. Another beastman pounced on what seemed like empty air. A silver glint appeared, followed by a large howl that echoed through the shed and out into the misty night. His hand was severed, spraying blood across the room, painting the sleeping beastmen and beastwomen in a rain of red.
This commotion awoke nearly all the beastmen. The number had reached about 20, and even a few beastwomen were rousing the rest. The shed was gradually becoming cramped.
The swordsman appeared beside the door, a frown on his face. "There are too many of them. I'm still this weak even after becoming an advanced class? Maybe I should have made something with the crafting ritual—" He was cut short as a beastman attempted to pounce on him. His sword moved, and the head left the body, rolling on the ground with a terrified, pained expression.
Sighing, he muttered, "Even as an advanced class, I'm not that different from ordinary. Numerous people can end me. But that right should be reserved for people, not beastmen. Maybe the demons of the Northern Dominion might be worth that right." He chuckled.
Karl, standing behind several walls of growling beastmen, observed as their emotions drew in the Gu. In any case, to prevent panic among the beastmen, he was steadily crushing Gu after Gu, not letting a single one reach the line of sight of a beastman. He needed them to fight for him.
"These things actually have some power if they band together," the swordsman whispered. "I suppose the only reason Tobias keeps them under control is through fear." He sighed again. "Should I just become a Sanguine?"
His gaze was detached from the growling beastmen as if he cared little for their presence. Then, he suddenly opened the door. Mist poured in like rushing water as he left. Silence fell as the creatures looked around in confusion. What just happened? Did this man come here, kill a few of us, and just leave?
Something is wrong. Very wrong. Nothing about this seems right. Why would the cultivator order us to be killed only for the swordsman to stop? Karl steadied his dagger, the very one he used to kill pigs. Normally, carrying a weapon was forbidden by the cultivator, but after careful planning and lurking, he managed to smuggle one out. Since then, it had been his only means of defense. The visions had not brought any additional effects.
He walked ahead of the beastmen, who had gathered around the corpses of the dead, whimpering and humming a sad tune. Their low spirits attracted more brownish Sadness Gu.
Something is off with this situation. It couldn't have been a normal thief. He placed his hand on the door and slowly opened it. Outside, in the stretches of the cornfield, various individuals holding flaming torches stood. They had stern expressions and stood in pairs behind a black tube-shaped object with an oval black hole.
A cannon! Karl's heart sank. He quickly closed the door and turned to the mourning beastmen. "They're going to blow us up!"