Morning came with an uneasy calm.
The walls of MistHaven stood once more, patched together with fresh timber and newly cut stone. Soldiers patrolled the battlements with renewed vigilance while craftsmen continued rebuilding the western district.
The kingdom had survived another assault.
*No one believed it would be the last.*
---
Chrono stood atop the eastern watchtower. His gaze lingered on the distant forest.
The Beast Shepherd had gone quiet. That silence disturbed him more than battle ever could.
"Still watching?"
Vael stepped beside him.
Chrono nodded. "The enemy hasn't moved for three days."
Vael rested his sword against the stone wall. "Wouldn't that be good?"
"No." Chrono's answer came immediately. "When intelligent enemies become quiet…" "…they're preparing."
Vael didn't argue. Deep down — he agreed.
---
A horn suddenly echoed across the eastern plains. One blast. Then another.
Not an alarm. *A signal.*
Captain Rowan hurried onto the wall. "A caravan approaches!"
Soldiers immediately took their positions. Bows were raised. The eastern gate slowly opened.
From the tower, Chrono narrowed his eyes. "…That's not a merchant convoy."
---
Nearly forty wagons rolled toward the city. Most were damaged. Several wheels had been replaced with rough timber. The horses looked exhausted.
Walking beside them were dozens of armed escorts. Not humans. Some possessed wolf ears. Others had tails. One elderly warrior bore curved horns like a ram.
Children clung to their parents as they crossed the open plain. Many carried little more than blankets and worn packs.
*Refugees.*
---
The gate opened cautiously. Captain Rowan approached the lead wagon. "State your identity."
The driver slowly climbed down. He was a tall man with gray wolf ears and weathered silver hair. His armor was cracked. Fresh blood stained one shoulder.
He lowered his weapon before speaking. "My name is Garron." "I serve the Eastern Beastkin Tribes." He glanced toward the frightened civilians behind him. "We request sanctuary."
Silence settled over the gate. MistHaven had barely recovered from its own crisis. Now another people sought shelter.
---
Inside the caravan, children looked around nervously. Some had never seen a human city before. A small fox-eared girl hid behind her mother. An elderly bear Beastkin coughed violently as healers rushed forward.
The exhaustion on every face told the same story. They had not traveled because they wished to.
*They had run because they had no choice.*
---
King Aldren arrived at the gate shortly afterward. His eyes swept across the refugees.
"Who attacked your homeland?"
Garron's jaw tightened. "The forests turned against us."
Murmurs spread among the gathered soldiers.
"The beasts… no longer recognize friend from foe."
He slowly looked toward the eastern horizon. "They follow a man cloaked in black."
Chrono's expression changed.
*The Beast Shepherd.* The name wasn't spoken. It didn't need to be.
---
Garron continued quietly. "Our villages fell one after another." "The monsters marched together." "Wolves hunted beside creatures that should have devoured them." His voice grew heavier. "We've never seen anything like it."
Chrono exchanged a brief glance with Vael.
Everything matched the reports from MistHaven. This wasn't a local disaster. The same enemy was tearing apart every nation he touched.
And for the first time — MistHaven realized the Holy Demon War was no longer approaching.
*It had already begun.*
---
The eastern gate remained crowded long after sunrise.
Soldiers guided the refugee wagons toward the open training grounds while royal healers hurried between the wounded.
The Beastkin watched everything cautiously. Many had never stepped inside a human kingdom. Many expected hostility.
Instead — buckets of water were passed around. Blankets were distributed. Children received warm bread before anyone asked their names.
An elderly wolf Beastkin lowered his head. "…Thank you."
---
From the castle balcony, King Aldren overlooked the camp below.
"They've suffered more than I expected."
General Rowan nodded. "Our scouts counted nearly three hundred civilians." "And barely sixty warriors."
A kingdom could not lose that many defenders unless something had gone terribly wrong.
---
Chrono walked among the refugees. He said little. He simply observed.
The warriors bore deep claw wounds — not sword cuts. The children rarely looked toward the forest, almost as if they feared seeing it again. One small rabbit Beastkin clung tightly to her mother's arm whenever a bird flew overhead.
*Fear had become instinct.*
---
Near one of the supply wagons, Vael stopped before an elderly Beastkin sharpening a spear. The old warrior possessed broad antlers and weathered hands covered in old scars. Despite his age — every movement remained steady.
Vael's eyes narrowed slightly. "You use Combat Force."
The old warrior looked up. "So do you."
For a moment — neither moved.
Then the elder smiled. "But…" He tapped the spear lightly. "We do not use it the same way."
---
Without another word, he lifted the spear.
A crimson pressure spread through the wooden shaft — not around his body, not around his hands. *Around the weapon itself.* Leaves scattered across the ground. The air itself seemed heavier.
Then — the pressure vanished.
Vael's eyes widened slightly. "…Interesting."
The elder chuckled. "You humans wear Force like armor." He rested the spear against his shoulder. "We let it become part of our instincts."
---
Before Vael could ask another question — a sharp cry echoed across the camp.
A young Beastkin boy had wandered too close to Gran.
The enormous wolf slowly turned. Several nearby soldiers instinctively reached for their weapons. The child froze.
Gran simply tilted his head. His ears twitched once. Then he slowly walked closer.
The soldiers tensed. The little boy squeezed his eyes shut.
Instead — Gran gently nudged the child with his nose. Once. Twice. His tail began wagging.
The boy carefully opened one eye. "…Big puppy?"
Gran barked happily. Several Beastkin children burst into laughter. Even the soldiers relaxed.
Lin covered her mouth to hide a smile. "I don't think he realizes how terrifying he looks."
Chrono scratched behind Gran's ear. "He never has."
Gran happily leaned against him, nearly knocking Chrono off balance.
---
The atmosphere softened. For the first time since entering MistHaven — the Beastkin children smiled. Some cautiously approached Gran. Others laughed as his tail swept dust across the ground.
Even Garron allowed himself a faint smile. "Our children…" "They haven't laughed in weeks."
Chrono looked toward Gran. "Then let him keep doing what he does best."
Gran barked proudly.
---
That afternoon, a private meeting was held inside the castle.
Present were King Aldren, Chrono, Vael, Lin, General Rowan, and Garron. A large map covered the table.
Garron pointed toward the eastern forests. "Our villages once stood here." His finger slowly moved south. "Then the beasts began gathering." Another movement. "They stopped behaving like beasts."
Chrono quietly finished the sentence. "They started behaving like soldiers."
Garron nodded. "Someone organized them." He hesitated. "We fought monsters before." "But never…" "…like this."
---
He reached into his travel pack. Carefully — he placed a broken black arrowhead upon the table.
None of the Beastkin had crafted it. None of the humans recognized it. Its surface seemed to *absorb* the torchlight itself.
"We found dozens of these." "Near every destroyed village."
Chrono carefully picked it up.
The moment his fingers touched the metal — a faint pulse of unfamiliar mana traveled through it. Cold. Ancient. *Corrupted.*
His expression slowly hardened. "This…" He looked toward King Aldren. "…didn't come from the Beastkin."
Outside the castle windows, dark clouds gathered once more above the eastern horizon.
Far beyond them — something was already marching.
And this time — it wasn't only beasts.