Chương 8: Chapter 9: The Next Steps

The forest was quiet now, save for the crackling of the burning wagons and the soft weeping of the newly freed. The beastkin gathered in a loose circle near the wreckage, their eyes flicking between the corpses sprawled in the mud and the dark treeline, waiting for the next horror to emerge. They were haggard and thin, with their clothes little more than rags, but they were alive. Ivan stood apart from them while leaning heavily against a scorched tree.

He tried to control his breathing, forcing air into lungs that felt too small for his chest. His ribs ached with a deep, throbbing bruise where a slaver's mace had clipped him. A lucky glancing blow that would have shattered bone if it had been an inch to the left. Thankfully he'd leveled up in the end, so all injuries were being healed rapidly. Despite that, he felt a little hollow. Fifteen. He had killed fifteen people today. Ivan looked down at his hands.

Ink stained the fingertips permanently, but blood had dried beneath his nails in a dark crust. But his hands were steady. There was no shaking. He'd lived far too long in this ruined world for him to be bothered by killing humans. Is that good? Or does it mean I'm broken? All he felt was a cold satisfaction. The slavers were dead. The slaves were free. The math worked out. An older wolfkin broke away from the group. Silver had crept into the fur around his muzzle, and a scar pulled one side of his lip upward.

He approached cautiously, keeping his hands visible, palms open. It was the posture of someone used to being hit.

"You have our thanks, human," the wolfkin said. His voice was rough.

"Name's Kenny. I speak for most of us." Ivan straightened, wincing as his ribs protested the movement.

"Ivan. And you don't owe me anything. I would've walked away if there weren't children." Kenny studied him before answering.

"Most humans would have walked away regardless. And if you came because of the children, I'm even more grateful. Our children are more important than our own lives. Thank you." Ivan felt awkward now. He wasn't used to being thanked so openly.

"You're welcome, man. It's no big deal." It felt good.

"You're a funny human." Kenny laughed a little and then gestured to the wreckage, to the bodies wearing Iron Chain colors.

"You fight like a demon but you look and talk like a scholar."

"I'm a Scribe," Ivan corrected. Kenny snorted, a short, sharp sound.

"If all Scribes fought like you, the world would be a very different place." Ivan didn't answer that.

"Where were you all captured?" he asked, cutting to the chase. He needed intel. The Iron Chain Consortium didn't operate on whims; they had routes, schedules, buyers. If he knew where they'd been hunting, he could map out the danger zones. Kenny turned back to the huddled group.

"Who wants to start?" A rabbitkin woman stepped forward, her long ears torn and drooping. She clutched a shawl around her thin shoulders.

"Near the Thornwood border," she said.

"We were foraging for moon-berries. They came out of nowhere…" A young lizardkin with broken scales and a limp added, "Same. They hit my family's farm two weeks ago and burned the house. They took only the young..." Others chimed in, their voices gaining strength as they realized they were truly safe. Most had been taken within a hundred miles of this spot. Local captures, sadly. Opportunistic raids on isolated settlements which were easy pickings for slavers who knew the terrain better than the locals.

"What about you?" Ivan asked the one person who stood out the most here. Then the foxkin woman stared at him for a moment before parting her lips.

"I was taken from the other side of the Abyssal Sea. From what I gathered… they were planning to take me to Sky Reach. The City Lord wanted to buy me." The circle went dead quiet. Even the weeping stopped. Ivan's eyebrows rose. He properly looked at her for the first time since the fighting stopped. Well… she does seem like the type Victor would want his hands on. She was leaning against the remains of a wagon, arms crossed, looking bored.

Her pink hair was matted with dried blood at the tips, but her amber eyes held a calculating glint now, the feral edge smoothed over into something sharper. That's not what'd have attracted Victor, of course. It'd be the deadly curves, and how her clothes hugged her tightly. Her odd personality aside, I had to admit that she was a good looking woman.

"You're from a different continent?" Ivan asked, unwilling to reveal his thoughts about Victor. She nodded.

"Technically I'm not even from this world… but yes, ten years ago when I appeared in this world, it was Europe. I was abducted from there. My clan and I were traveling for the Moon Festival when the Slavers' ship found us. These few we fought were weaklings, but back then… they had a really powerful bastard with them. Not like these clean‑up crews," she said, jerking her chin at the dead men.

"Back then they had one of their Generals on deck. Collared beasts on both arms, a Blessing like a sunburn. The crew treated him like a demigod and a rabid dog at once." Generals. The word had stuck with Ivan. The Consortium didn't just have managers. They had monsters with titles. More importantly, though.

"A ship?" Ivan frowned deeply.

"So the Consortium has ships that can cross the Abyssal Sea…" Was it surprising? Ivan realized it wasn't. It was always the evil organisations that garnered enough wealth to afford the greatest luxuries.

"Three of them," she said.

"At least, that's what I counted in their harbor before they dragged us onto the Black Tide. They had reinforced hulls and black-wood plating, built for raiding instead of speed. They know what they're doing. One of them didn't belong to the water at all. Too much mana coiled around its hull, so heavy that even the Sea Kings gave it a wide berth." That was... immensely troubling. The Abyssal Sea was a nightmare. It wasn't just an ocean; from what little lore Ivan knew, it was a graveyard.

Leviathans the size of islands, mana storms that could tear a vessel apart in seconds, and currents that defied physics. If the Consortium had established reliable shipping routes, they were far more organized and far wealthier than Ivan had assumed. They aren't just bandits. They were a criminal empire. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Kenny cleared his throat, breaking the tension.

"We're heading north after this. There's a settlement near the Frostpeak range. Neutral territory hidden deep in the valleys. I heard they don't ask questions, and they don't like the Consortium." Ivan nodded.

"Smart. Go deep."

"What about you?" Kenny asked.

"South," Ivan said, glancing toward the road.

"Port Vallow. Then west." Kenny extended a clawed hand.

"May the wilds be kind to you, Ivan. You gave us our lives back." Ivan took the hand. The grip was strong, calloused.

"Make them count."

As the beastkin began to sort through their meager belongings – starting from scavenging cloaks from the dead guards, finding boots that fit, and even sharing water skins – Ivan turned toward the lead wagon where the leader lay crumpled in the mud. The big man looked smaller in death. Less terrifying. Just a pile of meat and bad decisions. Footsteps crunched softly behind him.

"What are you doing?" The voice behind him was musical, carrying a playful lilt that seemed entirely out of place in a ravine filled with corpses.

"Looting," Ivan said without turning. He knelt by the leader's dead body and started checking the man's coat pockets.

"The dead don't use gold. And I need a lot of it." She chuckled.

"Practical. I like that." Ivan looked over his shoulder.

"You headbutted me ten minutes ago."

"Affectionately. Won't that earn me forgiveness?" Rys crouched a few feet away, watching him with open curiosity. She had wiped some of the blood from her face and now wore a crooked smile. The rage from the fight had settled.

"I'm Rys, by the way," she said, extending a hand as if they were meeting at a tea party.

"And that sulking brat trying to become invisible over there is Ren." Ivan glanced past her. The boy, maybe fifteen, with messy pinkish-white hair and a tail that wouldn't stop twitching nervously, stood a few paces back. He looked like he wanted to dissolve into the ground.

"Ivan," he said, turning back to the corpse.

"And for the record, I didn't mean to be rude when you asked who the fuck I am. I told you to shut up and stay down because I was trying not to blow us all up."

"Semantics. And you don't need to explain yourself. A little rudeness is attractive," Rys dismissed with a wave of her hand. She rested her chin on her palm, smiling.

"You're not from around here, are you?" I really wasn't. I wondered why I'd come to Australia back then.

"What gave it away?"

"Eh, most humans in this region act like one of two things: frightened rabbits or hungry wolves. You... slaughtered fifteen armed mercenaries and now you're checking pockets like you're shopping for groceries. Which is odd, given you said you're a Scribe."

"Kenny didn't believe me when I said I'm a Scribe," Ivan said, continuing his search.

"I do."

"Oh?"

"You weren't casting spells, I saw," she muttered.

"I'd heard some Scribes can draw in the air, indeed. Although yes, I don't see any special Quill on you... Anyway, I can tell you're not some thief. You have the air of someone who is very tired of everyone's nonsense."

"I'm broke," Ivan muttered, pulling a heavy leather pouch from the leader's belt. He weighed it in his hand. Solid. Maybe sixty gold coins.

"And yes, I am tired." He also found a ring on the leader's finger. It glowed with a faint green light. Poison resistance, maybe? He tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge. Soul-bound, then. Useless without a disperser. He sighed and moved to the belt pouches. Rys' smile widened.

"Want some help? I have excellent eyes for quality. And nimble fingers."

"... I thought you were above looting, my lady."

"My lady? I'm no noble," she scoffed.

"And oh, darling, looting is just aggressive shopping with a 100% discount." She stood up, brushed dirt off her tattered rags, and clapped her hands loudly.

"Hey! Everyone! Why are you being so hesitant?! Grab what you can! The dead won't mind, and winter is coming!" Was that a reference? Ivan shook his head as the other beastkin hesitated, then slowly approached the bodies. Rys watched them with obvious satisfaction.

"You're enjoying this a bit too much," Ivan observed.

"Of course. Watching the oppressed reclaim their dignity and their oppressors' wallets is good for the soul," she said with a wink. I had a really different first impression of her personality. Ivan focused on the leader. He used a whip as a weapon, which Ivan didn't care about. He still took it, hoping to sell it. But mainly, he took the shortsword resting on the man's waist. It was a backup weapon but the quality was great. It was steel, well-balanced, and enchanted with… was that [Minor Durability]?

Ivan recognized it. He took the gold too and there was some dried meat that actually looked edible. These were definitely inside the man's Inventory, and upon his death, they appeared beside his body. The dead bodies didn't vanish after a certain Level. By the time the scavenging was done, the sun was dipping dangerously low. Shadows stretched long across the ravine as the beastkin split into groups, murmuring quiet goodbyes and thanks.

Kenny offered Ivan one last nod before leading his group north into the treeline. Soon, the clearing was empty. The silence returned, heavier than before. Except for Ivan, Rys, and Ren. Ivan stood up, dusting off his knees. He looked at them.

"Why are you still here?" Rys crossed her arms, still smiling that enigmatic smile.

"I thought you'd be happy seeing a woman such as myself stay back. Anyway, we don't have anywhere to go."

"You said you were from Europe," Ivan said.

"Why not go back?"

"Because crossing the Abyssal Sea is practically impossible for us," she said, examining her nails as if checking for chips.

"And we are, just like you, very broke. Unless you're offering to buy us tickets, boy?" Is this a honey trap? Ivan raised an eyebrow and then glanced at Ren. The boy was staring at his feet, kicking at a loose stone.

"Is he your brother?" Rys blinked and then laughed. It was a genuine, full-throated laugh.

"Brother? Oh, goodness no. That would be scandalous." Ivan was confused. He looked at Rys, who looked maybe twenty-five, radiant despite the grime, and then at Ren.

"Then?"

"Ren here is my nephew." Ivan stared.

"Nephew?"

"Surprised?" She leaned closer.

"How old do you think I am, human?"

"Uh." Ivan hesitated. This felt like a trap.

"Twenty-four?"

"Flatterer." She winked.

"Add a few decades. You see, we Kitsune age... gracefully. Let's just say I remember when this highway was actually paved. Well, I'm lying since I wasn't even in this world when that happened, but yes." Ivan stared at her. She's older than she looks. Much older. Suddenly that Level 55 doesn't look too impressive. Ah no. Ivan mentally slapped himself. Why was he acting so arrogant already? He was just Level 20! She could murder him with a kick.

"Should I call you aun–" Ivan started and quickly stopped when she sent him a glare. Was that joke patched? He cleared his throat and decided not to pursue that line of questioning.

"As for getting home..." Rys sighed. The smile left her face. For a second, she looked tired. Ancient.

"We're stuck. We have no ship, no coin, and most importantly, no connections here. Unless you have a spare void-ship in your pocket, I don't see any way of getting out… I'll be honest, the only reason I stayed back is because I heard you're going to the Port Vallow?"

"You heard right," Ivan said. He looked south.

"I'm heading to Asterion." Rys' amusement sharpened into genuine interest. Her ears perked up.

"Asterion? That's… our home is near that city. That's quite far. And expensive too. A Primordial Champion rules it, you know?" Ivan blinked.

"You guys are from there? That makes things easier. And yes I know. I plan to find a way. I just need to get off this rock first." He paused, weighing the decision.

"I could use an ally. Someone who can tear through iron bars with her bare hands might be useful." Rys hummed, tapping her chin with a clawed finger.

"An escort mission? For little old me? How chivalrous."

"I saw you kill three men in ten seconds," Ivan said dryly.

"And you enjoyed it. I don't think you need chivalry but direction will help you better. And nope, not an escort mission…. I'm capable of going on my own. Since we're going the same route, I'm offering you to tag along." She frowned. She looked ready to argue, but she too had seen Ivan fight.

"... Fair, I do need a ride." She glanced at Ren before answering.

"Very well. Let's travel together. Don't be such a bore though."

"I'll do my best." A low roar rolled through the forest and vibrated through Ivan's boots. It came from far off, but all three froze. Ren spoke for the first time, his voice cracking.

"That wasn't a wolf." Ivan activated [Mana Sense]. The forest lit up in his vision, a latticework of blue and white energy. And to the east, moving fast, was a massive, crimson blotch of mana. [Gurgling Dreadbear, Level 53]"Something big," Ivan said, his voice dropping.

"And angry. Probably attracted by the blood." Rys' ears twitched.

"Dreadbear. They're real nasty things. And very territorial." She looked at Ivan.

"Unless you want to add 'Bear Slayer' to your titles today, we should leave."

"Agreed." Ivan checked the sky.

"Night's falling. We need a camp."

"Lead the way, Captain." Rys gestured grandly toward the treeline.