Inside the house, the air was thick, almost tangible. The three of us sat in silence, though Foster remained standing, unmoving, his gaze locked on the horizon through the open window.
His eyes didn't just see what was outside… they seemed to stare into an inner collision: the disbelief that a prisoner — someone he considered inferior and had always tried to dominate — might actually be stronger than him.
Alissa was the first to break the silence.
"So… you're telling us the only way out of here is to defeat the ruler of the Board?" Her voice carried both perplexity and a spark of hope.
Alex nodded slowly.
"Yes… But the hardest part is the area where he resides: the land of monsters and rulers." He leaned forward, as if the weight of his next words threatened to bow his spine.
"Lord LL was lucky to make it out alive. Almost no one survives that place. And it's still uncertain if killing the chief ruler would actually let us escape."
Our faces tightened in unison. His truth was a cold blade: even if there was a way out, it might as well not exist at all.
I leaned forward.
"If we have to face that area to get out, then we need to prepare. I still don't understand my powers… can you help me figure them out?"
Alex arched a brow, surprised, but Alissa was quicker.
"LL lost consciousness in one of the areas. He hardly remembers anything."
The way she said it… I realized she was hiding my true origin. It was her way of protecting a secret that couldn't be allowed to slip.
Alex pressed his lips together, thoughtful, before answering:
"It's hard for me to believe that, my lord. Your strength has already reached the Beast Foundation Realm and… you know little about it. Forgive me. I am a Homo titanis — commonly called Titanics. We are known for titanic strength and endurance, but also for our understanding of the path of strength across many species. With my guidance, perhaps we can stand a chance against the land of monsters and rulers."
Alissa smiled at me. It wasn't full confidence — something she rarely granted anyone, I think — but there was a flicker of approval. And, looking at Alex, I could see he could be very useful.
As for him calling me "lord" all the time? Better that way. If he starts treating me as an equal, he might think I'm naïve… and in this place, seeming naïve is the same as baring your chest to the enemy's blade.
As the saying goes: "If you want to survive, learn to wear the wolf's skin before the sheep realize you're not one of them."
***
The wind swept across the open field, carrying the distant scent of damp earth.
We stood side by side, but Alex was in control of the moment. He took position in front of me, posture firm, eyes fixed on me as if he was shaping not just my strength, but my worldview.
Alissa and Foster stayed a few steps back, observing. Alissa kept her arms crossed, weighing every word. Foster, hands in his pockets, seemed more focused on figuring out who I truly was.
"My lord," Alex began, voice deep and measured, "every species has its own unique cultivation path. Some grow slowly but steadily. Others, explosively… and many burn out far too quickly."
He stepped forward.
"The Prisoners…" he paused, letting the name hang in the air, "are one of the fastest-growing species with devastating strength. But… after the fall against the World Government, no one heard of you again. A full millennium of silence."
Foster looked away, as if the past of my kind was a dangerous echo.
"You are in the Beast Foundation Realm, where your strength and animal DNA act as one." Alex raised his hand and clenched his fist, stressing each word. "Just so you understand… this is the highest point a Prisoner has ever reached in recorded history. And even so, it's only the third realm."
He tilted his head, as though measuring my reaction.
"But with the Government against you, almost no one survived to go further. The most impressive thing, my lord, is that the third realm of your kind could already compete with — and often defeat — fourth and even fifth-realm warriors of other races."
The words echoed in my mind like war drums. I could feel Alissa watching me from the corner of her eye, calculating the weight of this revelation. Foster simply clenched his jaw — maybe skeptical, maybe afraid.
Interesting… my legacy isn't just dust from a forgotten past. It breathes in me. I can still evolve.
"My lord…" Alex's voice pulled me back. He had already lowered into a stance, feet anchored to the ground. The black scythe, with its cold gleam, was aimed straight at my chest.
His eyes held a mix of respect and challenge.
"It's just a friendly match," he warned, measuring each word. "Don't use your full strength. To truly understand the extent of your power… nothing beats combat."
He spun the scythe in a slow arc, letting the air hiss around the blade.
"I don't know all the secrets of the Prisoners' strength…" a faint smile tugged at his lips, "…but I believe this will be enough to start."
Alissa raised an eyebrow, and Foster stepped back, as if sensing that "friendly" was about to mean anything but.
"Then come," I replied, my voice steady.
Alex struck first, like an elongated shadow. The scythe's handle slid from his grip in a low sweep, aiming to take my legs. I moved on instinct — or perhaps it was the crow within me — and the blade met only air.
He didn't stop. His body spun, and the blade came from above, with enough force to split stone in two. In the scythe's reflection, I caught my own gaze… far too cold for a mere spar.
The tip stopped a hair's breadth from my shoulder.
"Good dodge… but you hesitated," he said.
My pulse quickened.
My hands began to fragment into black down, small feathers breaking free into the wind. Alex noticed, and for an instant, his eyes shone with something between fear and excitement.
The sound of wings echoed in my mind.
"Careful what you wish to test, Alex…" I murmured, taking the first step forward.
The scythe rose.
The ground trembled.
And the friendly match… never truly began.