Irzholk couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was... an ordinary Kaovren. Except its skin had turned a golden tan, its eyes were filled with yellow sclera speckled with black, and its nails had grown long and sharp.
[Beastkin are a sub-species inheriting agility like a hawk, strength rivaling a bear, ferocity akin to a wolf, and beauty resembling that of humans.]
Irzholk stared intently. This was more terrifying than anything he had collected before. Yet, once again, the creature merely stood there, staring at him with a vacant and lifeless gaze.
It was a groundbreaking discovery, but Irzholk was certain he would only face persecution again.
While lost in thought, he unexpectedly crossed paths with a Kaovren, this one still fully alive.
The Kaovren carried a slender sword and alternated its gaze between Irzholk and the Beastkin.
Instinctively, Irzholk commanded the Beastkin to attack. It promptly cornered the Kaovren with ease.
The Kaovren was left battered and near death, eventually raising a hand in surrender.
Irzholk approached, intending to order the Kaovren to kneel and lick his feet, believing this act might earn the villager's trust and cement his reputation as a true innovator.
However, the Kaovren retaliated, swiftly pinning Irzholk with its blade in one trained motion.
"Shouldn't you be the one kneeling now?" the Kaovren said.
Irzholk was shocked that the Kaovren could speak his language.
But once again, his fear prevented him from questioning it, and he complied.
The Kaovren, however, stopped him. "I was just joking." The Kaovren couldn't believe such immense power was under the control of someone so 'reckless'.
The Kaovren then introduced himself as Aerion, a name derived from his people's belief in a divine figure who descended to the earth to control the weather.
However, Aerion had 'betrayed' his own people. He had learned a forbidden fighting art outlawed by the kingdom and was now an outcast.
Aerion had become a wanderer and a fugitive. Irzholk now understood the origin of the Kaovren he had encountered recently.
Though rare, their numbers were significant enough to breach the magical barrier. This particular Kaovren had been part of a special unit tasked with hunting Aerion down, dead or alive.
The reason Aerion could fluently understand and use the Alhamera language was that he had observed Alhamera from a distance several times, though he had no intention of doing anything to them.
Aerion believed the hostility between their races had nothing to do with him, and he now lived as an independent being.
Hearing his story, Irzholk felt a connection. As fellow outcasts, Irzholk shared his own tale, which Aerion listened to attentively.
Aerion let Irzholk go after making him promise to tell no one. Aerion also promised to do the same.
When Irzholk returned to the village, he was torn. On the one hand, he felt foolish for letting his enemy go, possibly endangering everyone.
On the other hand, he was happy to finally have someone to talk to.
Ultimately, he decided to keep monitoring Aerion from afar.
'Yes, monitoring.' It sounded cool—like he was an experienced soldier, something the villagers could never aspire to.
Years passed, and Aerion made no suspicious moves.
In fact, the two grew closer. Aerion explained that far to the east, there were small towns led by Half-Bloods.
Half-Bloods were children born from unions between Kaovren and Irzholk's race.
Irzholk was, of course, shocked. He never imagined that Alhamera had survived outside their borders.
"And they don't," Aerion clarified, confirming he had never encountered a pure-blooded Alhamera except here.
Aerion felt uneasy as he explained that the Alhamera women who bore children had met gruesome fates.
It wasn't even hidden in history—some people even took pride in it.
Aerion admitted that he had disliked those barbaric stories since childhood, unable to fathom how anyone could recount such tales about their ancestors with such casual indifference.
While they were chatting, they were attacked by a wild beast—not an ordinary one.
It was a trodoon.
Aerion should have been able to defeat it quickly, but he wasn't carrying a weapon, and Irzholk had no magic seeds left to summon the Beastkin.
They had to fight the trodoon barehanded.
The trodoon possessed the speed of a cheetah, the ferocity of a wolf, and the strength of a bear. Even together, neither Irzholk nor Aerion was confident they'd escape unharmed.
It took nearly three hours. Although they initially fought valiantly, Aerion was injured, forcing Irzholk to carry him.
Luckily, the trodoon fell into a trap near the village, but it served as a warning for the others.
Irzholk quickly fled to avoid being discovered. Aerion's injuries were severe—a deep gash running from his upper right arm to his lower abdomen.
Irzholk had to lift Aerion's shirt, and that's when he discovered the truth: Aerion was, in fact, a woman.