The bell over Grathok's door rang once as Jax and the Vixens stepped inside.
The place looked busy since he last saw him. For once, Jax saw several other trolls working with Grathok.
The butcher looked up immediately.
His tusked face split into a wide grin.
"Jax Darquebane," Grathok boomed, wiping his hands on a thick apron as he stepped out from behind the counter. "My favorite customer. Tell me you've got something good for me today."
Jax scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of himself under the man's enthusiasm.
"Uh… Nyxian and I were able to secure a little of a haul yesterday," he said honestly. "We wanted to see what you could do with it. Some parts are going to Brannic's new place, and some meat to a few of my restaurants—of course we'll pay for processing. But beyond that… I was hoping you could tell me if the rest has any value."
Grathok's brow lifted slightly at the phrasing.
"A little haul," he repeated, amused. "Alright then. Let's have a look."
He gestured toward the reinforced back room—a wide, stone-floored space built to handle bulk orders and large carcasses.
Jax stepped forward, the Vixens gathering behind him.
He opened his system.
The air shimmered.
Then the first body appeared.
A gryphon.
Grathok stopped walking.
The second body followed—a massive serpent, thick as a tree trunk.
Then five dire wolves.
An iron-jaw boar.
Three magic deer.
More followed—enough that the air itself seemed to strain under the sudden presence of death and mass.
The room went very, very quiet.
Other trolls in the back stopped what they were doing, staring at the quantity of beasts that were just dropped off.
"…Did you say this was all gathered yesterday?" Grathok asked slowly.
"Yes," Jax replied. "Nyxian and I."
Nyxian lifted a shoulder casually, tail flicking. "It was a long day."
Grathok didn't laugh.
He walked forward, boots echoing softly against stone, eyes fixed on the gryphon.
He crouched.
Ran a thick finger along the severed neck.
The cut wasn't jagged.
It wasn't torn.
It was… gone.
The separation was clean in the sense that it wasn't a cut at all—more like the space between neck and body had simply failed to exist.
He examined the wings next.
Perfect.
Not a torn membrane. Not a bent joint.
He moved to the face.
No defensive wounds. No scars. No signs of struggle.
He straightened slowly.
"And you killed all of these yesterday?"
"Well," Jax said, thoughtful, "we didn't kill the deer or the wolves. We killed the beasts that killed them. So those weren't us, technically. Just… spoils."
Grathok stared at him.
Then he moved to the serpent.
He circled it once, then knelt again, inspecting the massive hole clean through its neck. Not decapitated—but functionally destroyed.
The rest of the body was immaculate.
No slash marks.
No magic burns.
No poison damage.
"Do you know," Grathok said quietly, "how many hunters it takes to bring down a creature like this without ruining the meat?"
Jax hesitated. "A few?"
Grathok barked out a short, incredulous laugh.
"A dozen, if they're lucky. More if they're careful."
He stood, turning to face Jax fully now.
"You didn't butcher these. You didn't trap them. You didn't fight them long enough to damage them."
He gestured broadly at the room.
"You ended them."
Grathok studied Jax again - not as a customer, but as a variable.
"Brannic must have made you quite the weapons to deal this precise damage."
Nyxian grinned. "Actually Jax just punched them."
Grathok snorted a laugh. "Ha! I won't ever get used to Demonfolk humor."
But Llandra, Zee and Bunny looked at her, with a 'Really?' look.
Nyxian nodded.
Grathok dragged a hand down his face.
"Alright," he said at last. "Here's what I can do."
He began pointing.
"The gryphon—meat goes to your restaurants. Talons are weapon-grade. The heart and liver? Alchemical gold. I'll deliver them where you want."
He walked around the body, examining it from all angles.
"But I'd like to try to reattach the head and sell the rest of this beauty to one of my clients as a trophy. After your Dragon Head, I've now got quite a few clients willing to pay top dollar for preserved exotic beasts like this."
Jax nodded in approval.
He moved to the serpent.
"Poison glands alone are worth a fortune. Fangs, hide, vertebrae. This thing'll pay for itself five times over."
He paused at the wolves.
"These'll be good leather and marrow. Not glamorous, but valuable. Some of the meat has been damaged, but I'll save what I can."
The boar.
"Armor plates. Heavy stew meat. The head is cut cleanly. I think we got another trophy option."
The deer.
"Mana-rich cuts. Enchanters love these. It will take work to get these preserved with the damage, but there is enough here to be of value."
He looked back at Jax.
"You didn't bring me a 'little' haul," Grathok said flatly. "You brought me enough raw material to keep my shop busy for weeks."
Jax blinked. "Oh."
There it was.
That one word.
Grathok exhaled sharply through his nose.
"I'll separate everything," he said. "I'll send Brannic what he needs. I'll prep the meat for your kitchens. The rest—I'll appraise and sell on your behalf unless you say otherwise."
"That works," Jax said easily.
Grathok hesitated, then added, "You understand this isn't normal, right?"
Jax paused.
Thought about it.
"…I'm starting to," he admitted.
Nyxian laughed softly, looping an arm around his waist. "Nothing about this man is normal."
Grathok shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"Good," he said. "Because the world's going to notice."
He clapped his hands once.
"Now get out of my shop before I start charging you for standing around intimidating my staff."
The other trolls in the shop had stopped work to gawk at the inventory laid before them. Many heard the conversation what had just occurred and all of them amazed.
The Vixens laughed as they turned to leave.
As the door shut behind them, Grathok stared once more at the gryphon.
"One day," he muttered to himself, "that man's going to realize what he is."