In the center of the village, so distance away from the Dire Sovereign Beast’s resting place, was the place where his food was kept.
There, the cages creaked like dying tal beasts as the food bringer approached.
His steps were soft, almost reverent, crunching over dry leaves and old bones alike.
The humans noticed him the mont he appeared—of course, they did.
After all, everyone in this forsaken place knew the silhouette of the smiling man.
His na had been forgotten long ago—only his role remained.
The Food Bringer.
The human who brought other humans to the Dire Sovereign’s maw.
Gasps rippled through the prison camp as he erged from the gloom.
The way he walked—back straight, hands folded, lips shaped in that gentle, unsettling smile—made many recoil, and many more tremble.
A few children hid behind adults.
So adults hid behind the cages themselves.
And the questions began.
"He’s here again..."
"Did the Dire Sovereign ask for another batch?"
"Is it today? Another feast?"
"Gods... gods, not today..."
Their voices cracked, blending into a chorus of fear.
He stopped before the largest cage and surveyed them all with soft eyes.
Bruised faces.
Hollow cheeks.
Souls painted with desperation.
"Good morning," he said softly, as though greeting neighbors in a peaceful village.
His voice carried a strange warmth, sothing that felt like comfort wearing the clothes of sorrow.
No one returned the greeting.
Instead—
A man stepped forward, trembling. "W-We’re not resisting. We never resist. Just... just tell us. Did he request more humans?"
The food bringer lowered his gaze for a mont.
"Yes," he whispered. "He is hungry."
A wave of despair washed across the camp. A few broke down instantly, falling to their knees.
So clutched their loved ones—wailing, begging, praying.
But then the next blow ca.
"And today," the food bringer added quietly, "he requires females."
Every sound died.
Then erupted.
"No..."
"Not the won—please..."
"My wife—please, not her!"
"Take instead! Take !"
Children cried out, clinging to their mothers.
Husbands scread at fate, knowing their fists could not break iron bars as thick as their legs.
Wives sobbed, trying to smile at their families one last ti.
Usually, the request wasn’t this specific. The Dire Sovereign normally ate whatever the food bringer brought to him.
And the food bringer only took the old, the ones who were dying, or the ones who didn’t have anyone left to cry for.
Today, it was different.
But no one even thought about resisting because everyone here knew that if they resisted even a little, the Dire Sovereign would devour them all in irritation.
It had happened before, and they had heard the tales.
That was when one woman—middle-aged, dirt in her hair, bruises along her arms—staggered toward the smiling man, tears streaming.
"You..." she rasped. "How... How can you still smile? How can you see your own kind die, again and again, and not fight back?!"
He blinked slowly, as if genuinely surprised by the question.
Then he knelt at her eye level.
"Everything is written," he murmured gently. "Fate is carved. Destiny is fixed. Only a god can change the written."
She shook her head violently. "Then cry!! Scream! Hate sothing! Don’t walk like a corpse with a smile painted on your face!"
He softened.
"When one waits for their god," he whispered, "one should not weep. The god who set the trials is always watching."
Her breath hitched. "Then that smile... is it to entertain your god?"
He shook his head.
"No," he said. "A god would never be entertained seeing his followers suffer. I only smile so that when my god arrives—suddenly, without warning—I will greet them with the face of soone who waited faithfully."
Sohow, the softness of his words made her cry harder.
He stood and opened the cages.
One by one, the chosen won stepped out.
So trembling.
So numb.
So whispering quiet goodbyes.
As he guided them away, his eyes caught on a small figure in the group—a girl who was barely in her mid-teens.
If he had to guess, he would say she was around a 14- or 15-year-old girl.
He froze before walking next to her.
"...Why are you coming?" He asked quietly. "You... have a long life ahead."
The girl looked up, tears hanging precariously on her lashes.
"I’m an orphan," she said. "Everyone I knew died months ago. And... and it’s better to go like this than stay here another day."
Silence.
The food bringer’s smile did not break—but his eyes closed.
For a mont.
A single mont.
And in that mont, he whispered, barely audible, "...Just how much longer, my lord?"
Even though he never showed it, he was also losing his hope.
After all, he had been here for more than two years, yet this place had only gotten worse.
He believed that they would be saved one day, as evil never reigns. The sun always cos after a long night.
But the problem was that this dark ti might eat everything before the light he was waiting for arrived.
Still, he prayed to his imaginary lord to help them.
When he opened his eyes again, they shone with that strange, tragic serenity.
He reached out and took the girl’s trembling hand.
"Co," he said. "I will walk with you until the end."
And with that—
The procession began.
Won weeping, children screaming, and husbands collapsing to their knees as the cold wind carried their loved ones toward the monster’s den.
The food bringer walked calmly at the front, hand in hand with the girl who no longer had a reason to live.
He smiled softly.
He waited.
For the god he believed would co.
..............
anwhile, Kael and his group had reached the village.
The first thing they heard was breathing.
Not human breathing—but the slow, guttural rhythm of beasts at rest.
Kael stepped out of the thicket and into the clearing... and the world shifted.
Iron cages rattled in the wind.
Humans curled inside them like discarded dolls.
So twitched.
So did not.
Evethra froze beside him, eyes dilating with horror.
Lyratheia’s hands folded tightly before her chest, lips parting in a soft, trembling inhale.
Selene tilted her head, golden eyes quietly widening, as if staring at a dream that offended the concept of divinity itself.
Kael said nothing.
His usual lazy drawl and his easy humor—gone.
His expression was unreadable, shadowed by sothing colder than anger.
They walked forward quietly, their steps the only gentle sound in a village built from screams.
A beast—massive, boar-headed, fur thick with dried blood—turned toward them.
Its snout lifted, sniffing.
Confusion crossed its brutish face.
Then realization.
Its eyes widened.
"HU—HUMANS? OUTSIDE? WHO LET YOU OUT!?" It bellowed, stomping forward, tusks dripping saliva. "ESCAPED LIVESTOCK! GET BACK IN YOUR CAGES!"
Selene flinched, and Lyratheia clenched her fists, ready to act, while Evethra instantly shifted in front of Kael, fangs half-bared, magic flaring.
The beast charged.
Trees shook.
Cages rattled violently as the trapped humans inside whimpered, bracing for the inevitable carnage.
The girls prepared to move—
But Kael already had.
He didn’t raise a hand.
He didn’t take a stance.
He rely dragged a lazy hand back through his hair, brushing aside a lock, exhaling quietly—
And the air split.
A thin line.
Invisible.
Silent.
Sharper than truth.
The beast’s head continued forward in full montum, its mouth still open in a roar—
But its body no longer followed.
For a heartbeat, the girls thought Kael had done nothing.
Then the head toppled—
—And hit the ground with a wet thud.
The massive body ran three more steps before collapsing forward, skidding into the dirt and stirring clouds of dust.
A hush fell over the clearing.
Evethra stared, wide-eyed. "...My lord... I—I didn’t even... see..."
Lyratheia, who was an S-ranker herself, couldn’t believe that an A-rank beast could be killed that quickly.
’Would I be fine from that attack?’ She muttered inwardly.
Selene’s golden eyes shone faintly, pupils narrowing.
"His attack was quick," she murmured, "so much so that the beast didn’t even realize when it died."
Kael lowered his hand, letting it fall into his pocket as if nothing had happened.
"Hmm. I suppose that works."
The girls turned to him, unsure whether to speak.
He continued walking forward casually, dust swirling behind him.
"This place," he said softly, "is good for all of you to experience real fighting."
Evethra blinked. "My lord... this...?"
"Yes." His tone remained calm, almost gentle.
"These beasts aren’t weak. But they aren’t strong either. Perfect for building instincts."
He glanced specifically at Evethra, eyes half-lidded and knowing.
"You’re already strong enough to kill anything here, Evethra. What you lack is experience. Practice. Mindset."
Evethra swallowed, trembling slightly.
"...I will do my best, my lord."
Kael smiled faintly. "I know."
For a while, none of the other beasts noticed.
So accustod were they to screams, to violence, to the sight of fallen bodies, that one more corpse ant nothing.
Until—
Drip... drip... drip...
Blood reached a fire pit.
A beast sitting nearby sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose.
Then turned.
And froze.
"...Huh?"
His eyes widened.
"R—RAGG? Why are you lying—"
Then he saw the severed head.
A heartbeat later—
The entire village stirred.
Heads lifted.
Claws scraped the ground.
Low growls rolled like thunder across the clearing.
Dozens of beasts rose, sniffing, snarling, and muscles twitching.
Kael stood in the center of the storm, hands still in his pockets, eyes half-lidded.
Evethra at his right.
Lyratheia at his left.
While Selene was a step behind them, barefoot and silent.
Cages rattled as humans inside pressed against the bars, whispering.
"...soone ca..."
"...they’re not part of the village..."
"...they killed a beast... so easily..."
A massive wolf-kin beast stepped forward, jaw clenched.
"WHO DARES—"
Kael finally raised his head.
His golden eyes sharpened.
Just slightly.
And for the first ti since they entered the village—
He spoke with intention.
"Girls," he said quietly, voice smooth but edged with cold resolve, "fight."
Reviews
All reviews (0)