Klyve stepped forward slowly, his boots crunching against the shattered stone. His blank expression hadn't changed, not even in the face of his beast's defeat.
Ren, breathing heavily, kept his eyes on Klyve, expecting an outburst or some desperate attempt to turn the tide.
Instead, Klyve stopped a few paces away and studied the fallen Hakarai. The skeletal frame began to shimmer faintly, its red glow fading entirely as it disintegrated into particles of light.
Moments later, the bone beast was gone, its essence drawn back into the bond stone resting at Klyve's hand.
"So that's it," Klyve said, his voice devoid of inflection. He glanced at the bond stone briefly before meeting Ren's gaze. "It seems Hakarai needs time to recover. I'll admit, your bond with Leizage was stronger than I anticipated."
Ren straightened, though his posture remained guarded.
"That's all you've got to say?"
"What else is there? You won, I lost."
His detachment was unnerving, as though the entire battle and its outcome had meant nothing to him.
Without another word, Klyve turned and began walking away, his figure blending into the haze of the ruined battleground.
Alianna crossed her arms, glaring after him.
"He's seriously just walking away like that? What kind of person doesn't care about losing?"
Ren exhaled slowly, his calm demeanor returning as he placed a hand on Leizage's flank.
"Someone who already lost everything."
****
Mona sat at a wooden table strewn with old tomes, glowing crystals, and a peculiar assortment of tools.
Her attention was fixed on a single object before her, a translucent shard pulsing faintly with an inner light. She turned it over with a pair of thin tweezers, muttering to herself as she scribbled notes in the margins of a nearby journal.
"This composition… It's not like anything I've seen before." Her voice was soft, but it carried an edge of excitement. She leaned closer to the shard, holding it up to the light of a hovering orb. "If I'm right, this could explain why—"
"Mona..."
She turned to see her brother Cyrus seated by the fire, his broad shoulders hunched as he wrote in his own journal.
His dark blonde disheveled hair fell into his eyes, which were locked onto the page in front of him with focus.
"You've been staring at that thing for hours," Cyrus said without looking up. "Maybe it's time to take a break before you drive yourself mad."
Mona frowned, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"This 'thing' might be the key to understanding the phenomena around the bond stones, Cyrus. If I can figure out what causes the anomalies, I could—"
"Change everything. I know." Cyrus finally looked up, his expression a mixture of weariness and mild amusement. "But you won't solve it by burning yourself out."
"I'm fine." Mona replied sharply, though the dark circles under her eyes told a different story. She set the shard down carefully, her fingers lingering on it for a moment before she turned back to her notes. "This isn't just academic for me, you know. I need answers."
"And you think you're going to find them here? In this frozen wasteland?"
Mona's gaze flickered toward the window, where snow battered against the glass.
"If not here, then where? The anomalies are stronger in here. You've seen it yourself—the way the bond stones react, the way the beasts behave. There's something about this place…"
Her voice trailed off as she picked up the shard again, her fingers tracing its smooth surface.
"I'll get back on my research."
****
Ren sighed as he reached the familiar dirt path leading to the small parcel of land he had purchased just four days ago.
The long day had left him yearning for solitude, and this secluded spot, tucked away in the quiet hills offered exactly that.
Leizage walked silently behind him, its massive form casting a long shadow across the clearing. Beside it, Sunnycluck fluttered around with boundless energy, pecking curiously at stray pebbles and patches of grass.
The hut Ren had built stood modestly at the center of the clearing, its wooden walls sturdy and practical.
As he approached, Ren placed a hand on Leizage's flank.
"Go ahead, take a breather. You've earned it."
Leizage grumbled lowly in response, lumbering toward the open patch of grass in front of the hut and settling down with a heavy thud. Sunnycluck, on the other hand, darted around the clearing, as it chased after falling leaves.
Ren watched them for a moment before turning toward the hut. The door creaked softly as he stepped inside, the cool air within offering a welcome reprieve.
The space was sparsely furnished, just a cot in the corner, a small table with a single chair, and a few shelves where he kept basic supplies and tools.
He placed his gear by the door and sank into the chair, running a hand through his white hair. He leaned back, staring at the wooden ceiling.
For now, he let himself enjoy the fleeting peace, knowing it wouldn't last forever.
****
The crowd roared with savage glee as the fight pit trembled under the weight of the combatants.
Two beasts clashed in the center of the arena, their cries of pain and rage echoing through the cavernous underground space.
Torchlight flickered against the jagged stone walls, casting eerie shadows over the throng of spectators, mercenaries, criminals, and dark guild members who hollered and jeered, tossing coins into a pile as they bet on the next victor.
A massive fanged bear-like beast, its fur matted with blood and grime, lunged forward. Opposite it stood a wolf-like creature, its silver fur bristling as it dodged with precision, slashing at the bear's legs with razor-sharp claws.
The wolf bore a jagged iron collar around its neck, faintly glowing with a sinister red light, an enslaved beast.
"Come on, shred it!" bellowed a rough voice from the stands.
The crowd erupted into chants, stomping their boots against the stone floor in rhythmic unison.
High above, on a balcony overlooking the pit, a cloaked figure leaned forward. His gloved hands rested on the iron railing, and though his face was obscured by the shadow of his hood, the faint glint of a scar running across his right eye caught the torchlight for a brief moment.
He turned back to the pit below as the wolf finally struck a decisive blow, tearing through the bear's throat.
The crowd erupted in raucous applause, coins clinking as bets were settled. The bear slumped to the ground, its glowing red collar shattering as its body dissolved into a haze of particles, retreating into the bond stone held in the hands of a dark guild handler.
"Bring it out," a booming voice called from the edge of the pit.
The handler stepped forward, dragging the bear's bond stone and tossing it to a burly enforcer who stood beside a grotesque device... a large wooden frame adorned with jagged iron chains and a cruel whip hanging from its side.
"Another lesson for the failures!"
The whip lashed against the beast's side, sending it howling in pain.
High above, the scarred man's gaze lingered on the scene below.
He turned sharply and disappeared into the shadows of the balcony, leaving only the faint echo of his boots against the stone.
Below, the beast's cries faded as it was dragged away, and the announcer prepared the next match.
His destination lay deeper within the facility, a dimly lit chamber filled with rows of caged beasts, each one battered and broken.
Their bond stones hung from chains around their necks, glowing faintly with the unmistakable taint of forced submission.
The scarred man paused at the edge of the room, his hood casting his face in shadow as he scanned the cages.
One beast, a sleek panther-like creature with violet eyes, lifted its head to meet his gaze. Unlike the others, its eyes held no fear.
He crouched slightly, ensuring no one was watching, and whispered.
"Soon… just hold on a little longer."
The panther growled low, as if it understood.
Footsteps echoed from behind, and the scarred man rose swiftly, his demeanor reverting to detached indifference. A dark guild handler approached, holding a ledger in one hand.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be here."
The scarred man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he brushed past the handler, his voice low and curt.
"I was just leaving..."
The handler grabbed the scarred man by the shoulder, his grip firm.
"You don't just leave, stranger." The handler growled. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the man's cloaked figure. "Who even let you in here? You've been nosing around where you don't belong."
Slowly, he turned his head, just enough for the flickering torchlight to illuminate the scar that stretched across his face. His expression was calm, almost indifferent, but his voice carried an edge like steel.
"Take your hand off me..."
"Or what? You think—"
Before he could finish, the scarred man moved.
In a single fluid motion, he grabbed the handler's wrist, twisting it sharply. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber as the handler cried out in pain. The ledger fell to the ground, papers scattering as the handler stumbled back, clutching his broken wrist.
The scarred man stepped forward and landed a precise strike to the handler's gut. The enforcer doubled over, gasping for air, but the scarred man didn't let up. With a sweep of his leg, he sent the handler sprawling to the ground.
The scarred man crouched beside the handler, his gloved hand gripping the enforcer's collar. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the menace in his tone was unmistakable.
"You're going to forget you saw me here, otherwise..."
The handler's wide eyes were filled with pain and fear. He nodded frantically, stammering,
"Y-you got it! I-I didn't see anything!"
The scarred man released him, standing as the handler scrambled away, clutching his injured arm. Without sparing another glance, the scarred man adjusted his cloak and melted into the shadows of the chamber.