In less than a minute, Desmound experienced a storm of emotions—panic, relief, exhilaration, surprise, and finally, rage.
Hovering in midair, his fur bristling and his jagged teeth grinding so hard that blood nearly seeped from his gums, he stared into his crystal orb in disbelief. His mind reeled.
"I can't believe it. How did I screw this up?" he muttered, eyes twitching. "No one—no one—was supposed to know about the little abomination. Especially him."
The image in the orb replayed the moment the Doomblade was sucked into that shimmering vortex, erased as if it had never existed. That single instant was all it took to shatter Desmound's smug amusement.
"FUCK!" he roared, voice echoing through the forest canopy. "That was my brother's best Doomblade! Dammit, I'll never hear the end of it!"
Of all the beastfolk in the forest, only the rats obeyed him directly. The rest—the wolves, the birds, the Doomblades—served his younger brother. He didn't even know why that particular monster was near the village of the Tarnished. He just found it amusing to hijack the creature, toy with it like a puppet, unleash it on the unsuspecting.
But now? Now he'd triggered the one thing he couldn't afford.
"I might still be able to fix this…" he muttered, and in a blink, he shot across the sky like a bullet of shadow and smoke, toward the source of his dread—the man in the blue cloak.
He found him easily. The figure stood leaned casually against a tree, as though awaiting Desmound's arrival.
"Well, well," the man said, his tone playful, yet stern. "The infamous Desmound. Finally crawled out of your pit."
Desmound clicked his tongue. He could already tell he'd walked into a trap. "I know I trespassed," he began, bowing stiffly. "I apologize. Name your price. I'll compensate you… just hand over the human pup and we can forget this ever happened."
The man huffed, folding his arms. "You want to compensate me? For trespassing?" His tone darkened. "What about the dozen humans you slaughtered just for your amusement? Who will you compensate for them?"
Desmound scoffed. "Why ask that? You never cared before. You're not exactly a saint."
The man's eyes narrowed, his voice sharpening like frost. "Don't forget what I represent in this world, kitty. You killing scum doesn't give you the right to trample my territory. Know your place."
Desmound didn't appreciate the ridicule in the man's tone. He despised humans, and the only two things that kept him from wiping them out were the laws of the world—and the man standing before him.
He hated the way this human always spoke to him, with smugness and righteousness. But he forced himself to remain civil. For now.
"They weren't angels. They had blood on their hands, just like me. It's not like I—"
"Enough." The man cut him off, voice like steel. "The child stays."
Desmound growled. "I can't let that happen. The kid is dangerous. He belongs with me."
"I know he's dangerous," the man replied, eyes flicking toward Ethan's unconscious body. "And I know something else—you stole what was meant to guide him. You sealed his fate and left him to rot, thinking the laws of causality wouldn't bite you in the ass."
As he spoke, he waved his hand. A translucent blue barrier formed instantly around Ethan, intercepting a creeping black tendril that had been slithering toward the boy.
The man sighed. "The world spirit entrusted a guardian role to a greedy, treacherous cat like you. If invaders came tomorrow, you'd be the first to sell out your kind."
That struck a nerve.
Desmound's claws extended. "You dare—"
The man didn't let him finish. "Your brother has more honor in his tail than you have in your whole hide. No wonder the beastmen chose him over you."
With a burst of motion, the man vanished from his spot and reappeared before Desmound, slamming a pale blue fist into his gut. The impact cracked through the trees as Desmound was launched backward, demolishing an entire line of forest before crashing into the dirt with a howl.
Watching the destruction, the man smirked. "Been a while since I did that. Refreshing."
But the quiet didn't last. A shrill, furious screech echoed from the rubble. Desmound burst forth like a shadowy missile, twin blades unsheathing from his forearms. He slashed toward the man—but his target was already gone, now perched atop a tree with Ethan floating beside him, encased in the shimmering barrier.
The man raised a hand, index finger glowing with faint blue energy. A thread of energy zipped toward Desmound, who batted it away easily. Or so he thought.
The thread twisted in midair, bending unnaturally, and chased him like a sentient snake.
Desmound tried to dodge again—but suddenly, his right arm locked mid-swing. He turned, startled, only to meet the man's middle finger flicking forward.
"Look at you," the man teased. "All fangs, no brains."
The flick struck Desmound's forehead like a hammer, hurling him down once more.
He slammed into the earth, coughing blood, mind spinning. This isn't just any human... if he finds out what I'm planning—I'm finished!
"You look desperate," the man said, floating down slowly. "Is causality catching up with you? That's what makes this even more fun."
Desmound snarled, snapping. Enough. His pride couldn't take the ridicule. His fury boiled over.
He soared upward and spread his limbs wide, forming a swirling mass of black energy between his claws. The orb condensed, shrinking from three meters across to the size of a fist—a dense sphere of annihilation.
"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A FOSSIL, CLINGING TO LIFE, YOU MISERABLE BASTARD!"
"I'M DESMOUND, MOTHERFUCKER!" he bellowed. GUARDIAN OF THE BEASTFOLK! AND NO ONE — NO ONE — TALKS TO ME LIKE THAT!"
The man blinked. "Oh no. Did I tease him too much?"
He raised two fingers and whispered: "By my hands and my will, the laws bend—let space distort, and let forward become up."
The moment Desmound hurled the sphere of destruction, it twisted. Instead of flying toward the man, it shot upward into the sky like a bullet through liquid glass.
The man spun his hand in a circle. "By these hands, with my will—the laws bend. Dimension Lock."
Far above, a massive explosion detonated. A mushroom cloud of destruction bloomed in total silence—seen only by those involved, as if the world itself was unwilling to acknowledge what had just occurred.
The man looked skyward and muttered, "That would've leveled a city… guess it's good I'm still around."
He turned to Desmound again. "Now, little kitty, you'd best stop with the dramatics. I can sense people heading this way. If they find out what you just tried, causality will be the least of your worries."
But Desmound was already gone. Vanished into the forest, a blur of fleeing shadow.
The man chuckled. "Guess he felt them too. Won't be back for a while."
He glanced at Ethan's floating form and narrowed his eyes. "There's more to you, kid. Desmound's desperate… too desperate. Whatever you're hiding, it might just change everything."