Unless there's some special reason, who would be willing to lurk beside a girl in the form of a beast?

For him, the reasons for lurking were more than sufficient.

He and the girl had countless shared memories, but she had completely forgotten those precious moments.

Even if he were to revert to his human form and tell the girl everything, would she believe him easily? She wouldn't. So, he would rather remain as a black panther in front of her.

He consoled himself, saying that as long as she was safe and they could still be together, it was enough.

The only nuisance was the blonde-haired priest.

Every time he saw the priest and the girl sharing intimate interactions, he felt consumed by jealousy, wishing he could tear the priest into pieces and bury him right there.

Fortunately, his rationality always triumphed over his evil thoughts. Apart from glaring and baring his teeth, he didn't do anything out of line.

After all, the girl treated him generously. They were always together, inseparable. She even allowed him to sleep on the same bed, and they took baths together. This was a privilege the priest didn't have.

If the priest dared to, he swore he would tear the priest into pieces and bury him right there.

During these joyful yet fleeting days, he didn't forget his mission. However, he couldn't stay away from the girl for long to deliver the stone. So, one night, he came up with a plan.

[Why not write a letter in advance and send it to the headquarters of the Dawn Prayers? Then, when he and the girl go to Northsail for the Beast Tamer Guild's trial, he can take the opportunity to deliver the stone. Since they will all be in the same city, a brief absence from the girl's side should be fine.]

So, in the late hours of the night, he sneaked out of the church while the girl was sound asleep.

The black panther slipped into the darkness of the night, and from its shadow emerged a young man with black hair and purple eyes. He looked around vigilantly, pulling up his hood to conceal his face.

***

Late at night, the bustling tavern in the Echowater town of welcomed a stranger.

The arrival of strangers was nothing new for the tavern owner. After all, Echowater was not far from the bustling city of Northsail at the heart of the continent. For the mercenaries passing through, the town was a convenient resting place.

However, this particular stranger seemed to unsettle the owner.

He didn't ask for drinks, accommodations, or food.

Instead, he requested that the owner assist him in writing a letter.

"Huh?" The owner frowned and spoke with an air of superiority, "This isn't a post office or a school. We serve ale for ten silvers a cup. If you don't want any, then leave."

The owner's loud voice drew the attention of people around to the stranger.

The stranger seemed to be holding back some frustration. He took out a gold coin and placed it heavily in front of the owner.

The owner glanced at it with a sidelong look and nonchalantly picked it up.

Not far from the counter, a drunken man caught sight of the glint of the coin and suddenly became interested. "I never thought this young man had so much money," the bald drunkard staggered to his feet and approached the stranger, "What letter? Let me write it for you!"

The chubby man who had been sitting next to the bald man noticed and jeered, "With your abilities? How many words do you know? How can you help someone write a letter?"

"Why can’t?" The bald man had already arrived next to the stranger, wearing a flattering smile. "What do you think? Bro, let's talk about the price." As he spoke, he placed his hand on the stranger's shoulder.

The stranger spoke up. It was the voice of a stern young man.

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"Take your hand off. Don't touch me," he commanded in a low voice.

"Outsider?" The chubby man detected an unusual accent in the man's brief words, and he became somewhat cautious, retracting his earlier mocking expression.

The drunk bald man, unfortunately, did not grasp the underlying message and continued to approach the man, completely oblivious to the fact that his alcohol-induced odor was already offending the stranger.

"You stink. Stay away from me," the young man said coldly.

"You saying I stink?" The bald man was provoked by these words. Fuelled by alcohol, he yelled loudly, "I'd like to see if you can still talk like that after getting your teeth smashed in!"

Before the words had even settled, the bald man swung his fist.

The young man deftly sidestepped, perfectly avoiding the punch. However, his hood slid off, revealing a handsome yet aloof face. Underneath the hood was a sleek black leather armor that complemented his gray linen shirt. The slightly open collar hinted at captivating collarbones. His tanned skin and jet-black short hair weren't uncommon here, but his deep purple eyes were quite rare in the human world, even considered unprecedented.

In that moment, those eyes, illuminated by the dim lights of the tavern, emitted a sharp gleam that only a beast would possess.

Unfortunately, the bald drunkard remained oblivious to any anomaly. Frustrated that his first punch had missed, he swung a second punch with even more determination.

The young man extended his right hand, catching the drunkard's fist firmly. In one swift motion, he lifted his knee. There was a loud thud as the bald man was sent flying, crashing into a table in the corner, instantly losing consciousness. This scene startled the barmaid nearby, who ended up plopping onto the floor in shock.

For a moment, tension gripped the atmosphere of the tavern. Several individuals in the distance even reached for their weapons, their eyes locked onto the stranger.

At this moment, the chubby man stood up and raised a hand to signal everyone to calm down, "Hold your weapons! Put them down."

The young man glanced at the chubby man but didn't speak, nor did he show any intention of attacking again. Both sides stood facing each other in this tense standoff.

At this moment, the voice of the owner broke the silence. "Young man, are you from Togekaze?"

“Indeed.” Since his identity had been exposed, he had no intention of denying it.

The owner looked at the gold coin in his palm — it was unlike the local currency, with an outer circle and a square center, and the unique foreign characters on it were intriguing. It was a script that evolved from ancient hieroglyphs — a strong, square design, each stroke resembling a clash of swords, arranged intricately and resoundingly.

"Northsail hasn't seen residents from across the Black Jade Sea in perhaps centuries," the owner's demeanor had shifted from earlier brashness to calm caution, "However, you should know, when you step foot in Northsail, you'll face a different caliber of individuals."

The owner cast a sidelong glance at the unconscious bald drunkard in the corner before returning his gaze to the foreign man, "Not all humans are like him."

"I bear no ill will towards you. I just need to ask for your help in writing a letter. The post office is closed now. The only place I could find that's still open is the tavern," the man explained with a somewhat helpless gesture, palms up.

"For whom?" The owner accepted the coin and retrieved paper and a pen from beneath the counter.

"The High Priest of Dawn Prayers, Nafal," the man replied.

Upon hearing this, the owner's hand paused.

"High Priest Nafal was assassinated ten years ago. Didn't you know?"

"Ah," he appeared surprised, then quickly inquired, "Who is the successor now?"

"Lady Aurora."

"Please make her the recipient."

"What's the content?"

"To the esteemed Lady Aurora, I am a messenger on behalf of Miss Krystiz. I bring with me an extremely important item at her behest and convey a message to you: Dark forces may be gathering in the Northernmost, and Krystiz seeks assistance. However, due to my current circumstances, I am unable to personally visit you, and I deeply apologize for this. When the time is right, I will come to meet you."

"That should be sufficient," the man said as he took the piece of paper from the owner's hand, examined it briefly, and then took the pen to sign his name at the bottom.

The owner watched as the foreign man somewhat awkwardly wrote down a name in the common language of humans — "Shinya."

"I thought you couldn't write in the common language," the owner asked with curiosity, "Is this the only word you can write?"

The owner took the paper again and added a date beneath the signature - May 25, 1264.

"It wasn’t, but now it is," the man replied with a hint of bitterness, then he emphasized, "Please deliver this letter to the headquarters of Dawn Prayers, the Murmuring Sanctum. I believe the payment I've provided is more than enough."

"Of course, young man. A friend of Dawn Prayers is a friend of mine," the owner replied, showing the first smile of the evening. But quickly, the smile turned into concern, "What do you mean by the dark forces gathering in the Northernmost? And where is this ‘Northernmost’? Is it even farther than Togekaze?"

The man glanced at the ignorant innkeeper, responding with a tone that was neither cold nor warm, "Rest assured, the Northernmost is quite a distance away, far from human territories."

With a final look at the owner, who was in his thirties, he pulled up his hood, concealing his appearance. He was ready to leave.

"Also, owner, you need not call me 'young man,' as my age may be twice yours."

With that, he turned and headed towards the door, quickly disappearing into the night.

The owner caught every word of the previous sentence, and smiled meaningfully, "Heh, quite impressive."

After this stranger left, the inn was buzzing with discussions:

"Who exactly is that guy?"

"Did you see it? His purple eyes were glowing just now."

"It's spooky. Only beasts' eyes would glow in certain dim environments, right?"

"He came from the Black Jade Sea..."

"...Of course, I've never been there. Who's got the time for that?"

"Sure, because it's not a human territory."

"So, where exactly is Togekaze?"

The owner put the letter into an envelope and muttered to himself, "Togekaze... the territory of the Bloodwolf. That guy earlier was a werewolf. It seems I'll have to write another letter."