Chapter 813

Chapter 813

‘I’m terrified.’
Confronted with the reality of stepping into the unknown, Dunbakel felt a wave of anxiety so intense she feared her body might betray her. The dread was visceral.
‘What if my journey east ends in my death?’
Images of her youth flashed before her eyes—the painful memory of being discarded and shunned by the beastfolk community.
She had been paralyzed by fear then as well, her legs turning to jelly.
‘But this situation isn’t the same.’
In her childhood, she had no agency. Now, the choice was entirely her own. That distinction was paramount, and it was a truth Dunbakel held close to her heart.
Driven by that realization, she pressed on. Toward the East. For the first time, she walked away from the only security she had ever known. In that new land, she discovered so much. It was a transformative education.
Anu, the King of the East, was a man of immense ambition. He welcomed anyone possessing true talent and governed his followers with a solitary, ironclad decree:
“Never betray your brothers-in-arms.”
A former mercenary, he was a man of grit and profound boldness. His presence was magnetic.
Dunbakel observed that many of his subordinates seemed ready to lay down their lives for him without a second thought.
‘Those who pursue a vision have a certain radiance.’
Enkrid possessed it, and so did Anu. They were like celestial bodies, brighter than the twin moons, casting their glow across the dark expanse of the sky.
Perhaps that was the origin of the saying that the fallen become stars—it was inspired by men of such caliber.
“You’re a bit of a coward, aren’t you?”
That was the greeting she received upon her arrival. The group was full of individuals with razor-sharp intuition.
“Who is?”
Dunbakel tried to play it off, but her facade fooled no one.
Among those following Anu, there were at least ten warriors who possessed the caliber of a knight.
If that group ever decided to march onto the main continent, the geopolitical landscape would shift violently. However, they had no such interests. They were explorers, willing to gamble their lives for the sake of the unknown and the thrill of discovery.
The Shepherd of the Wastelands watched over his territory like a vigilant protector, while the members of the Black Hide Guild gambled everything on the success of the hunt.
“Listen. Being cautious isn’t a flaw.”
A woman approached her. In terms of raw power, she wouldn’t necessarily be ranked alongside knights.
Anu placed Dunbakel under her supervision—a red-haired fighter from the Black Hide Guild with curly hair and a frequent, easy grin. In a standard duel, many could overpower her, yet no one looked forward to fighting her. She was a breed of warrior Dunbakel had never encountered, possessing a quality that was strangely unnerving.
‘Not quite a trainee, but not quite a master.’
Her mastery over Will seemed incomplete, yet her effectiveness in a chaotic skirmish was undeniable.
‘It’s circumstantial, but impressive nonetheless…’
That was the shock of it. Her philosophy on strength and her mental approach were entirely foreign.
‘The world doesn’t follow the rigid lines we try to draw.’
That was the fundamental reality.
Because of her unique golden beast-eyes, Dunbakel had been cast out by her own kind. For a long time, she had sharpened her skills with nothing but vengeance in mind.
But was that her true purpose?
To live with integrity meant defining one’s own path. Dunbakel had never done that. She had never solidified a goal or allowed herself to dream.
In the past, she lacked the opportunity. Later, her mind simply hadn’t matured enough to consider it.
But now? Coming to the East provided the space to untangle those knots, one by one.
“Fear isn’t an enemy to be defeated—it’s a companion you walk with.”
She gained immense wisdom from that woman. These were insights she should have gathered in her homeland, yet she only found them here.
“Have you finally become useful?”
Anu, the King of the East and the Mercenary King, repeatedly threw her into the fire.
He forced her to clash with gargantuan beasts and sent her into caverns swarming with hundreds of serpentine monsters.
Through these trials, she distilled a few essential truths.
‘Since no one has returned from death, why do we fear it above all else?’
Anu’s voice would ring out, repeating words she had heard a hundred times.
“It’s your biology. Your primary goal is to gain control over that instinct. Power is secondary. You filthy beastwoman.”
Every word he spoke was grounded in a harsh reality—even the slurs.
Dunbakel accepted it. To understand oneself, to reflect with deep clarity—that was the bridge to the next level of existence.
‘I’m terrified.’
Fear isn’t something to be eradicated, but managed.
So she managed it. She didn’t attempt to suppress the feeling. She acknowledged its presence, settled her mind, and chased her objectives—and now, she had come back.
‘Even if my scimitar snapped the moment I stepped back on this soil.’
In truth, it was a minor setback. In the East, the destruction of artifacts was a daily occurrence.
Following her duel with Rem, Dunbakel found herself clashing with Enkrid. The beastwoman had returned with a completely evolved style, employing fresh and eccentric methods of engagement.
Enkrid was genuinely fascinated.
“Test your steel against me as well.”
His sudden eagerness to fight was perfectly in character. The way he ran his tongue over his lips betrayed his excitement. He was starving for a real challenge.
Dunbakel gave a sharp nod.
Then she remarked:
“Right. I let my guard down for a second.”
Enkrid was already in the zone. A battle begins long before the first strike. That was the philosophy he lived by.
“Did you learn how to grow a thick skin from Rem, too?”
It was a subtle jab. Dunbakel let out a quiet laugh.
“That’s not something you can just study.”
With that, the combat commenced.
“I’m going to kill you once this is over.”
That was Rem, wearing a smile while radiating a murderous pressure. The threat was aimed at her and her newfound “toughness.” It was a weight heavy enough to break a lesser warrior, but Dunbakel didn’t waver.
Enkrid studied the beastwoman’s golden gaze and reflected:
‘Trying to delete fear is just foolishness.’
He had heard that sentiment once while traveling with mercenary outfits.
A lack of physical strength didn’t equate to a lack of wisdom. That veteran mercenary had been a man of deep understanding.
‘Bravery isn’t the absence of fear—it’s the ability to move forward while holding it tight.’
What was the takeaway he had found back then?
Right. It was this: push your training to the point of madness so that you can function perfectly even when your heart is screaming in terror.
He hadn’t given it much thought at the time—he already functioned that way. Ultimately, it only became significant after he unlocked the Beast’s Heart.
‘It’s a difficult path.’
Intellectualizing a concept is one thing; embodying it is another.
Using his intuition, Enkrid caught a glimpse of her internal state.
‘She’s terrified, yet she fights without a hitch.’
She hadn’t conquered her fear. Instead, she had integrated it into her combat, training herself to function alongside it.
Anu had clearly forced her into endless life-or-death struggles for this very reason. Encounters where a single heartbeat of hesitation meant a grave.
The shadow of Anu, the Mercenary King, was impossible to ignore. Even for Enkrid, the man’s image was etched vividly in his mind.
He could almost hear that commanding tone:
“Keep breathing, you idiot beastwoman—survive.”
That was the whip he used to drive her. And the survivor of that process was the warrior standing before them.
As Enkrid ramped up the pressure, the beastwoman’s golden eyes narrowed into a smile. Her resolve manifested as a kind of bold arrogance. At the very least, her words were defiant.
“You’re feeling a bit light today, Commander.”
The gravity of his presence was significant, yet she spoke with a mocking edge.
Her physical form, however, was being honest. Her fur bristled, and she immediately triggered her beast transformation.
Thick white fur erupted across her frame as her body began to change. Her eyes took on a predatory depth, and her coat spread rapidly across her flesh. Strands of fur emerged from the gaps in her armor. Her brown plates strained as her muscles expanded.
‘Her size is increasing as well.’
This was a new development. She had fully embraced the beast within, showing her teeth to the world.
*Grrr—*
A guttural vibration below the threshold of normal hearing rippled out, triggering a primal alarm in anyone nearby. Her voice was laced with pure threat.
The method was different, but the intent was the same: raw intimidation.
‘She didn’t take the standard road. But whether she walked, ran, or dragged herself—she reached this point.’
Unconventionality wasn’t a failure. Dunbakel had simply forged her own unique trail.
“So you’ll show your true self to him, but you played nice with me?”
Rem’s frustrated voice echoed from the sidelines. He was clearly annoyed—why hadn’t she used this form during their bout?
His irritation was understandable.
Enkrid tuned out the distractions, including Rem’s complaining, and unsheathed Dawn Tempering.
His focus ignited, saturating his entire being with his Will.
Dunbakel didn’t reach for a blade; she balled her hands into fists. Enkrid made a mental note that after this, it would be appropriate to provide her with a new scimitar—something crafted by Aitri’s hand.
The duel ignited. It wasn’t a long affair. Enkrid quickly identified Dunbakel’s new quirks and adjusted his rhythm.
“Extinguishing the sparks.”
That was the core of his defensive strategy: identifying the source of every movement. It was a technique that had held firm against Balrog’s onslaught. Regardless of Dunbakel’s growth or the insane physical boosts of her beastform, no beastfolk attack was going to shatter his guard.
Still, her strikes occasionally bypassed his calculated defenses. It was inevitable—her style had become incredibly erratic.
After parrying eighteen consecutive strikes, Enkrid found his opening on the nineteenth, tagging her on the side of the head with the flat of his blade.
Collapsing to the ground, she grumbled, “That’s got to be cheating.”
Her chest heaved as she struggled for air.
“How is that cheating?”
Rem laughed from the side, while Enkrid offered a stoic reply.
“Round two?”
Dunbakel’s evolution was fascinating. It was the kind of challenge he craved.
“*Snf.* Fine.”
She cleared a bit of blood from her nose and hauled herself up. In her transformed state, her body was as dense and resilient as a titan’s.
‘An unconscious layer of protection.’
It wasn’t exactly Sacred Radiance Armor, but it functioned similarly.
In the language of the beastfolk, her life energy had reinforced her fur until it was as tough as tempered steel.
Enkrid raised his weapon, and Dunbakel lunged once more.
Once the training session concluded—
“Where’s the party? I’m craving slow-roasted lamb.”
Dunbakel proposed a celebration to honor her homecoming.
“No high-end booze from the East? Surely you brought something back.”
Rem jumped on the idea immediately. Had she really come back with nothing?
“Where would I get that? I was lucky to even find a scrap of food. You have to get to the main camp just to get basic rations. Otherwise, it was raw monster meat. Why do you think Eastern artifacts are for sale everywhere?”
The implication was clear: the Eastern campaign stayed afloat by trading recovered relics for essential supplies.
Hunting and gathering weren’t enough to keep them going.
Even without having been there, that one detail illustrated just how punishing and desolate the region was.
Rem didn’t get angry; he just blinked in stunned silence. He looked genuinely taken aback.
“You…”
He started to speak, but Kraiss moved in beside him, nodding with mock respect. However, it was Jaxon who delivered the real blow.
“So you’ve actually started using your head?”
Even Audin chimed in.
“The Lord’s light must have been shining on your mind, sister.”
Only then did Dunbakel realize they were all making fun of her. She looked around the group, her gaze eventually landing on Enkrid.
Enkrid, joining in on the fun, added, “I didn’t know you could train common sense.”
“What is wrong with you people? I’ve always been smart!”
Her ability to manage fear had indeed sharpened her tactical thinking, but despite knowing that, their teasing was all in good fun.
Regardless, a feast was organized.
“Forget just lamb! Bring out the veal tenderloin—and that oil-fried chicken the cook came up with!”
Kraiss yelled out orders. An impromptu celebration began under the glow of the moons and the dusting of stars.
Shinar was absent, but Esther appeared out of nowhere, taking a seat next to Enkrid.
“Will you carry me if my legs get tired, too?”
She even attempted a joke, which was a rare sight for her.
“Did you just see Shinar?”
“Just passing through.”
Esther was a ghost. One moment she was in the hidden city, the next she was scouting the Pen-Hanil Mountains. Lately, she had been occupied with the training of her specialized mage unit.
“What did you take down? Balrog?”
When Dunbakel heard the news of the Mad Order’s most recent engagement, she nearly choked on her food.
“*Snrk.*”
A piece of lamb tumbled from her mouth before she quickly recovered it. It wasn’t exactly a graceful moment.
“Do you actually wash yourself now?”
Rem made a face of disapproval.
“Is that the first thing you want to know?”
It wasn’t his first question—but to Dunbakel, it felt like it. Criticism always hit the same way.
“Tell us about your time out there.”
That was Kraiss’s request.
Dunbakel had intended to boast about the massive, beast-like entities she had faced in the East.
But compared to the slaying of Balrog or the destruction of a fortress wall, her stories felt a bit diminished.
Besides, she was well aware of her limitations as a narrator.
“Mostly just a lot of fighting.”
Enkrid, who had a genuine love for tales of adventure, pressed her for more.
“Did Anu teach you nothing about how to speak?”
“Look, it was just one battle after another. The monsters there were way more aggressive than here.”
That was the extent of her summary. She did manage to share a few more details about the expedition’s structure.
“There was a shepherd, right?”
Peld asked. He was intrigued by the legends of the shepherd within the Eastern forces.
“I didn’t run into him much. I spent most of my time with the Black Hide Guild.”
The Shepherd of the Wastelands, the Black Hide Guild, the Glacier Rangers—these were legendary names. Factions that had held their ground in that region for over a century.
Lua Gharne, sharing Frokk’s curiosity, asked, “So the Eastern expedition just keeps pushing forward?”
“They fought each other as much as the monsters. It was chaotic.”
Rophod inquired, “Were there many bizarre creatures?”
Dunbakel nodded. “There was this giant. Huge. Most swords wouldn’t even leave a scratch. Some brawler with an Eastern artifact finally took it down. You want to know how? Well—”
She kept talking until the night began to slip away. The beastwoman who had claimed to regret her return had seamlessly found her place among them again.
“So if we’re the Mad Order, does that make me the only beastwoman officer?”
At some point, after several drinks, she started talking nonsense and nearly provoked a fight.
“I’m joking! Put the axe down! And you—when did you even pull that sword? What is that thing? It looks way more valuable than an ordinary relic.”
Ragna quietly returned Sunrise to its scabbard.
Dunbakel seemed genuinely happy, talking far more than she ever had before her departure.
The beastwoman was home—and she was welcomed by everyone.
It was a night where the stars seemed to offer a gentle embrace to them all.