In the midst of the trees, where brown meets green and the dense canopy swallows the breath of night,
I slipped silently beneath the starlight and the moons.
My feet glided between trunks as though I were a still shadow—yet inside, I was an unrelenting storm.
A hidden sound pounded like a drumbeat echoing inside my chest.
Every step, every heartbeat, pressed upon me a weight that never lifted.
Days ago, I'd sent Lia to investigate the Bloody Wolves.
I'd had my suspicions—and I'd been right.
An Alpha wolf, sentient… his name was Bagheera.
It wasn't merely about the beast's existence—it was about how he existed.
A conscious creature of this kind doesn't appear by accident.
It requires a Kora user of at least Emitter level, trained in taming—and highly skilled at that.
That meant one thing: someone stood behind all of this.
My intuition hadn't failed me.
Bandits had been lurking in this forest for some time, preparing an organized assault on the caravan—in collusion with the wolves.
I'd been about to send Lia to quietly follow up… until one name slipped out: Darmon.
Hearing it felt like something exploded within me—a long-healed wound torn open anew.
Strategy no longer mattered. Patience was impossible.
One betrayal among many I could never forget.
I ordered Leo to protect the caravan—especially Sonia—and tasked Lia with monitoring the bandits near the caravan.
I used my only Koshin Seal card to erect a barrier shielding the women and children's camp.
Then, beneath the veil of night, I left the camp.
The cold air stung my face, but a fire within me had already blinded me to the chill.
Lia contacted me telepathically: their plan had begun—Kona Fog would be deployed for a surprise attack.
This was dangerous; it severely limited Leo's ability to defend the caravan.
I ordered her to stop the attack, but she couldn't pinpoint who would manipulate the fog, how, or where.
When the fog rolled in and she failed to halt it, I commanded Leo to prioritize Sonia's safety—and I pressed deeper into the forest.
Now, I halted beside a tree.
The shawl my mother left me wrapped around my face, concealing half of it from the world.
In the forest's darkness, my eyes gleamed silver—as they always did when the scent of blood drew near.
I'm rarely provoked; my calm seldom breaks.
But in moments like this, that peace vanishes without warning.
Every time Darmon's face surfaced in my mind, the fire in my heart burned hotter.
Then a thought slithered in—light as poison in water:
*The caravan isn't my responsibility. I must avenge.*
I froze.
Was that my thought? Was I the one who spoke it?
Another voice surged:
*You must protect them!*
Commands and desires tangled inside my chest—nothing was simple anymore.
*I want to kill him!*
Vengeance warred with the protective instinct I'd been raised with.
*It doesn't matter what I choose… Revenge and killing hold no meaning.*
Each voice had its logic: vengeance for betrayal, mercy within me, rage demanding justice, reason reminding me that killing wouldn't undo the past.
I slammed my fist against the tree trunk—the echo reverberated through my chest like a slap that felled me by my own hand.
I squeezed my eyes shut until my eyelids burned.
Internal voices clashed:
*Go… Don't go… Kill him… Don't kill!*
Desires writhed like snakes in my mind—each understandable, each demanding execution.
Who am I now? Which of these breaths is mine? Which is my truth?
I kept walking despite it all.
With every step, I felt betrayal; every scream in my imagination was a dagger in my conscience.
Yet I didn't bleed—the pain dissolved into something far colder.
Vengeance, mercy, rage, indifference—all had blended into an inseparable knot of threads.
But I'd iced over my heart.
In a trembling whisper, I murmured:
"Mother… forgive me. I no longer know who I am. Forgive me… I can't be… what I'm supposed to be."
I swallowed hard, lifted my gaze to the sky, and my lips whispered:
"My God… forgive me."
I gripped my heart until it stilled—and the thoughts quieted, one by one.
I no longer heard them, yet the darkness of decision still clung to me.
I didn't look back; I wasn't allowed to.
My heart remained tethered to the caravan—to their minds and souls.
I prayed Lia, Leo, and my enchantment would be enough to shield them.
In my mind, I saw Tamer, Anton, Jon, Kalu, Imenata, Zofia, Sofia, and all the children—I prayed they'd stay alive.
I found no other path before me.
I knew what I'd do tonight would deepen my self-loathing tomorrow.
Yet I kept walking—
ready to add more souls to my nightmares.
***
Leo's footsteps were slow, cutting through the silence as he moved among the frozen members of the caravan.
No one dared lift their eyes to look at him—as if even glancing had become a heavy burden.
He passed the scattered wolves, one by one, until he stood before the largest.
The wolf lowered its head, jaws grinding with a bone-crunching sound:
"Human…? No—your scent barely exists… What are you?"
Its crimson eyes glowed beneath Lunara's light, weighing Leo as if he were an enigma.
Leo didn't retreat. Instead, he dropped into a fighting stance, his voice searing like molten iron:
"I don't need to tell you, you great wolf… because I'll kill you now."
The wolf glanced at the rest of his pack, frozen in fear.
He knew—if he weren't here, they'd have fled from the start.
He grinned, baring his fangs, pride lacing his voice:
"I am Bagheera. My name was granted by My Master, Sior—"
He never finished the sentence.
A swift, brutal punch from Leo slammed into his jaw—bone cracked, echoing through the forest.
Saliva and blood, mixed with Kora, splattered the ground.
Leo raised his fist again, eyes blazing with fury:
"Your past means nothing… I'll crush you!"
Bagheera lunged in retaliation—claws slicing the air like swords.
Kora ripped through the atmosphere in a crimson slash.
Leo ducked beneath the cleaving strike, his movement sharp and fluid as a falling leaf.
He pivoted on his heel and launched himself at Bagheera, delivering a powerful side kick to his leg.
Bagheera's body shook—but didn't fall. He growled, fangs glinting.
His form was armored in a dense layer of Kora, fused to his skin.
A crimson Kora aura flared around Bagheera like a flickering flame. He leaped over Leo,
driving his claws into the earth where Leo had stood moments before.
Mud scattered; trees trembled—but Leo had already moved behind him.
An uppercut snapped Bagheera's head backward.
Bone crunched—but the wolf recovered swiftly.
Bagheera's eyes burned even redder.
*He pierced my double Kora Shield?! Strong…*
Leo thought calmly, yet fiercely, like smoldering embers:
*His body regenerates—ordinary strikes won't suffice… Either I shatter him entirely… or…*
"Awooo!"
Bagheera howled—and his body erupted with Kora.
Muscles swelled; his fur turned crimson.
Claws and fangs lengthened; bony protrusions sprouted like extra talons.
He gathered a massive Kora sphere before his maw and hurled it at Leo with devastating force.
Leo assumed a basic sword stance, his palm forming a vertical cutting motion from high to low.
A slicing Kora line shot forth, colliding with Bagheera's sphere.
The resulting explosion shook everything—the trees, the wagons, the wolves, even the caravan members.
Jon sprang forward, unleashing the last of his Kora aura, wrapping it around himself as widely as possible to shield the group from the shockwave.
Anton supported him, layering Koshin with Jon's Kora, shaping it with finger gestures into a solid, transparent barrier.
The blast was immense—but Kalu and several other Kora-capable men and women rallied to protect the rest.
It was a brutal shock—but in the end, they succeeded in shielding everyone.
Tamer and the others watched the battle unfold. Kalu noticed scattered corpses torn apart by the earlier blast.
"Men! Don't leave the dead like this—protect them! The deceased deserve dignity!" Kalu shouted orders.
He and the others risked their lives dragging the bodies away from the battlefield to prevent further desecration.
Meanwhile, Leo—appearing no older than seven—was annihilating the giant wolf.
The other wolves dared not interfere; instinct warned them against it.
After the shockwave subsided, Jon stood clenching his fists, watching intently, while Anton—eyes sunken but focused—studied the fight.
Bagheera charged again, wildly—his fangs nearly grazing Leo's shoulder.
Leo braced himself; Kora hardened into a thin, crimson second skin over his knuckles.
He dodged, spun, and seized Bagheera's jaw with one hand.
Anton watched Leo's last move with profound intensity.
Then—Leo crushed Bagheera's nose with a crushing elbow strike. Blood splattered the earth.
Bagheera didn't retreat. Instead, he seemed to grow stronger with every wound.
His claws ignited with Kora as he surged forward in a straight line, tearing the earth behind him like thunder.
Leo leaped onto a low trunk, propelled himself into the air—
twisted mid-jump, and landed squarely on the wolf's back.
With a double-fisted hammer blow to the spine, he shook the ground itself.
Bagheera roared—a sound that shook the entire forest—then hurled Leo away.
But Leo landed cat-like on his feet, breath steady, eyes unwavering.
Both charged at once—Bagheera's claws slashing, Leo's fists striking back with force.
Each of Leo's blows rang like a hammer on anvil.
Bagheera ignored his wounds—they always healed without a trace.
But this time… they didn't. His eyes widened in shock.
*What…?*
Fine strands of Kora from Leo's strikes invaded his wounds, preventing regeneration.
*Impossible… That Kora coating his fists wasn't for strength…*
He remembered the blow to his back—the pain hadn't ceased.
*After that strike… he left Kora inside my wounds, blocking my regeneration!*
Bagheera growled furiously—but inside, a chill of fear spread.
Even as Leo raged, he'd been executing a deadly plan with precision.
Leo gave no time to think. He surged forward again—fists blazing—each strike embedding more Kora into Bagheera's injuries.
With every assault, Bagheera's strength waned; his rage turned to despair.
In a final roar, Bagheera lunged his massive body to pin Leo down.
But Leo ducked beneath the charge, grabbed the wolf's arm, yanked it hard, then stomped his full weight onto the knee—
a weight far exceeding his slight frame—until the joint dislocated with a sickening crack.
"Aaargh!" Bagheera's scream shook the air.
Before he could recover, a direct punch to the chest sent him flying backward—
his body crashed into a massive tree, snapping it in half.
He staggered up, fangs stained with blood, his crimson eyes dimmed by half.
Yet he charged once more—refusing to fall.
This time, Leo didn't move. He waited until Bagheera was directly before him—
then shifted his body half a step to the left and delivered a straight punch to his chest.
The strike pierced fur and muscle, driving Kora deep into his core.
Bagheera froze. His eyes widened—then blood gushed from his mouth.
He collapsed to his knees, breaths slowing, each exhale a plume of hot vapor.
He looked up at Leo, awe in his voice: "You…?"
---
Bagheera hadn't always had a name. Once, he was just another wolf in a pack—
his Alpha father ruled without granting names; logic held no place among them.
He grew strong and swift among his siblings—but never exceptional.
When he matured, his father drove him from the pack, as nature dictates for mature males to avoid life-or-death conflicts.
Alone, the wolf began his journey—seeking unclaimed territory or females to form a new pack.
He challenged other males repeatedly—but each encounter ended in defeat.
Stronger, older males pushed him away; females refused a mate without authority.
Eventually, after a failed hunt in a desolate forest, he slipped on wet rocks and tumbled into a deep ravine beside a roaring river.
The current dragged him briefly before unconsciousness claimed him.
He awoke to a fire—and a figure seated on a log.
The being stood on two legs: conscious, humanoid—but carrying the scent of dominant, sentient creatures.
Cebuan? The wolf didn't care. Instinct screamed the danger of such beings—especially dominant ones.
Exhausted, he tried to rise—but couldn't.
The man stood and spoke:
"You poor wolf… are you alright?"
"Grrrr! Aaagh!" The wolf responded only with threat.
He understood nothing of this creature—its voice conveyed no meaning.
But the man stared a moment—then released a crimson Kora aura: potent, commanding.
Energy all animals recognized—it enhanced strength and established dominance,
allowing instincts to sense lethal threats without direct combat.
Young wolves like him had been defeated by it countless times.
Now, this human used it to threaten him again.
As always, instinct screamed: Flee!
His body was weary—but he refused to submit to fear alone.
"Aaargh! Grrr! Awo!" He growled back, glaring defiantly—he wouldn't lose again.
"Excellent," the stranger smiled.
He pressed his hand to the wolf's skull, forcing Kora into his brain.
A burning sensation flooded him—as if his neurons were igniting.
His senses sharpened; awareness bloomed.
A red mark appeared on his neck, beneath the fur.
The man withdrew his hand and spoke:
"It's done. From now on, you are Bagheera—and I am your Master, Sior."
Bagheera learned Nita, the language of dominant creatures in the region, from Sior, and gradually mastered Kora manipulation.
After training, Bagheera ventured into the forest, gathering wolves one by one.
He taught them Kora use and organized males and females into disciplined units.
He discovered a Kora Stones mine, consumed them, and distributed them to his pack—
transforming them all into Bloody Wolves.
He trained them like an army—obedient, precise, fearless.
Swiftly, Bagheera's influence spread—he seized control of the south-central region of Jugesp forest entirely.
A kingdom of wolves rose under his command, ruling all forest creatures—
a realm where power and dominance were measured by Kora.
He reigned supreme.
Bagheera still served Sior when summoned—and now, a new mission arrived:
A caravan carried a significant quantity of Kora Stones.
Attack them. Defeat them. Seize the stones. Hand the rest of the goods to the bandits.
But Bagheera's wolves had been defeated.
So they planned again—this time with strategy and support.
At night, under Kona Fog cover, at the peak of Lunara and Lunana,
When their power peaked and Kona users were weakest—
in alliance with the bandits.
Failure was impossible.
---
Yet here he was—before a boy who seemed merely human, scentless,
defeated and breathing his last.
Leo approached, his body still wrapped in a dense, ordinary Kora aura.
He'd used only martial arts, Emitter level,
and a single Conversion level technique.
Facing him was a being who'd reached Formation level.
Leo stood before him and declared in a voice sharp as a blade:
"This is your end.."
He raised his fist—and struck Bagheera's face one final time.
The skull shattered; blood and brain matter sprayed everywhere.
The massive wolf collapsed, motionless.
His crimson eyes dimmed—only the wind's whisper remained among the trees.
Leo stood in the battlefield, drenched in blood—
none of it his own.
His breaths were calm; his eyes as sharp as when he'd begun.
He glanced at the remaining wolves—one step from him sent them fleeing into the forest.
He turned to the caravan members.
They stared at him in stunned silence, eyes wide with awe.
Silence reigned.
But he thought:
*Now… should I run?*