image [https://i.imgur.com/U789Sk6.gif]

My feet skittered back, retreating as Belle surged forward, her fist cleaving through the air. Dodging nimbly, I sidestepped, her knuckles brushing against the skin of my chest; the contact searing a trail of heat. As she spun to face me again, my shin collided with her side. It was a feeble attempt, barely sufficient to make her hesitate, compelling me to leap back as she rushed towards me once more, her punch grazing my cheek in a near miss.

Belle's arm swiped through the air, just skimming over my head as I swiftly ducked. In response, I delivered an uppercut aimed precisely at her chin. It felt like I hit a damn wall of stone—inflicting negligible harm on her while, paradoxically, depleting my own health.

image [https://i.imgur.com/MjbKxwO.gif]

Undeterred, Belle countered with a rapid backhand. With a flicker of movement, I evaded, capturing her slender wrist in my grip. Spinning on my heel, I leveraged her forward momentum to hurl her over my shoulder in a fluid motion.

She collided with the polished surface of the training area with a resonant thud, sending vibrations through the ground. A trail of cracks branched out from where she landed, like a spiderweb, spreading across ice. Belle made an effort to rise, her resolve unbroken, but I quickly grabbed her shoulders, shoving her down before she could find her footing again.

This left an opening to which I took, securing a mounted position like Abble had taught me. From above, I unleashed a barrage of heavy punches, each one raining down with thunderous intent. She managed to deflect some away with her forearms, but many found their mark, her head rebounding off the unyielding ground each time.

As I cocked my fist for another blow—a tap on my leg—halted my strike. I watched as the gash on her forehead began to close, the healing process almost instant. After standing up, I offered my hand to her.

Belle seized my hand, and as I hoisted her upright. "How is it that you manage to win despite my higher stats?" she questioned with a frown. "It’s scarcely a contest," she patted the dust from her pants with a resigned sigh.

Our sparring had not escaped attention, capturing the curiosity of many. Belle and I, often not the quietest, inadvertently led the city's outskirts guards to discover our cave, a discovery that soon gossiped its way to villagers. The once strictly enforced rule of the area being off limits gradually became ignored.

The Jarl, with a keen fascination, had been watching us for a while, joined by an increasing throng of spectators drawn to the spectacle of a Valkyrie and a lycan locked in combat. Unbeknownst to them, I was a demon too, a secret closely guarded and shared with only the Jarl and a select few trustworthy individuals. While I want to keep my anonymity, Takeda believed it was necessary to tell a handful of people. The prospect of garnering fame in an era not my own was a problem, stirring concerns about the unforeseen consequences of such notoriety.

Approaching with a sly grin, Takeda broke the moment. "Let's end this little dance—We must advance towards the spear," he instructed, his tone blending seriousness with a hint of jest. "You two seemed to enjoy your training a bit too much. This isn't meant to be leisurely. I expect to see movements as if you're in slow-motion."

Takeda wore an uncharacteristic expression, which caught me off guard regularly. Known for his tough-love approach, his recent elation over our progress felt both jarring and oddly heartening. While I appreciated his approval, adjusting to this newfound enthusiasm was somewhat difficult. Part of me wondered if his demeanour was theatrical, trying to inflate my confidence, even though I knew deep down that wasn't the case.

Responding to Belle's earlier question, I explained, "Every move I make is calculated, backed by realistic expectations. I avoid high-risk, impulsive actions. Your tendency for delivering heavy blows often leaves you vulnerable at inopportune moments."

"Correct. Neglecting the fundamentals can undermine any aggressive strategy," Takeda affirmed, nodding thoughtfully in my direction. He then shifted his focus back to Belle. "Kade's tactics may be forceful at times, but they are not random. He is the combination of the most instinctually driven beings in existence—a lust demon and a lycan. This pairing makes his restraint in the heat of combat remarkable. If he can master such self-control, so can you."

“It's not really that impre—” I began, only for Takeda to interrupt.

"Quiet," he said, throwing a stern expression. "You expend too much energy second-guessing yourself."

As much as I wanted to argue, he was right.

Belle met my gaze. "Got it. I'll work on being more tactical."

"Are you okay? I should have tempered my punches,” I said, my tone softening enough to draw a smile from her.

Belle put her hand on my shoulder. "Yes, Kade. You ask this after every encounter. Remember, this is how I improve my defence—it's necessary."

Her attempt at reassurance did little to ease the guilt gnawing at me for having landed such blows on her. I accepted her words with a nod, yet deep down, I knew that no justification could truly quell my worry for her well-being.

With a nonchalant shrug, Belle added, "If you want to make up for it, you can join me in the spring later and give me a—massage," she suggested, her hands pantomiming the innocent action as she winked suggestively. "You do have a way with your hands, after all."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, swatting her hand off my shoulder. "Must you put it that way? You're well aware of how that comes across."

Takeda, arms crossed over his chest, chimed in, "You’ve teased him to the point of immunity, Belle."

Belle let out a sigh. "His reactions just aren't as amusing as they used to be."

Pressing my lips flat, I glanced back and forth between Takeda and Belle. "Could you both please stop trying to elicit reactions out of me?" Directing my focus to Belle, I added, "And maybe it's time you reconsidered your closeness with that servant girl."

"Cora," Belle interjected sharply, her expression souring into a sullen pout. "Her name is Cora, and I find her company delightful. She has a great sense of humour."

With a smirk on his face, Takeda stretched his back out and looked around. "Let's take a break."

I strolled casually toward the spear, easing myself down into a cross-legged position. The spear's white surface caught the afternoon light filtering through the gap above, casting soft reflections around. "I'll stay here," I mumbled.

Suddenly, Takeda's grip was under my arms, pulling me up with a swift motion. "Time's almost up to head back to the guild. Lingering for small improvements here won't make much of a difference. Let's go relax with some drinks, shall we?"

"I can drink endlessly without feeling a thing," I noted, somewhat dismissively. "There's really no point for me."

Takeda exhaled in mild frustration. "It's your company I'm after, not your drinking prowess. Besides, consider it a different kind of training. You could use some practice in socialising."

Belle’s hand shot up. "I'm in the mood for a drink."

I shot her a sideways glance. "You're five months old."

She squinted her eyes at me. "As you very well know, my age has no bearing on whether or not I should drink alcohol. I've likely been in that pod longer than you've been alive."

Resigned, I made my way to the perimeter of our training ground, picking up my discarded linen shirt. Slipping it over my head, I caught the sound of Takeda's amused chuckle in the background.

He ambled over and squeezed my arm. "That shirt seems a bit snug on you. You might need a new one."

"Really?" I replied, trying to hide my enthusiasm. "I suppose you're correct." I glanced down at my chest where the fabric clung the tightest.

Since my arrival, my physique had transformed in ways that would surely leave Abble in disbelief. While I hadn't grown taller, my muscles had grown significantly. The development wasn't towards bulkiness but a leaner, more sculpted form. By comparison, many of the men in his town had so much muscle they appeared like they would be sluggish in a fight.

Belle wandered up and tapped the prominent vein on my bicep. "You've got veins popping out, too."

With a light touch, I pressed my finger to her forehead. "And you, Belle, sprout one right here whenever you're annoyed."

Her expression turned into a slight frown. "I've mentioned before how I feel about you pointing that out."

Takeda and I couldn't help but exchange a brief laugh, right as Jarl Rolf made his way over, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Your skills have improved significantly. I'm truly impressed by your progress. Takeda was wise to mentor you."

"Thank you," I managed, my words tinged with a touch of humility. "At times, I wonder if Takeda might be putting too much faith in me."

A firm pat on my back almost sent me stumbling forward. "You're exceeding his expectations, I can see it. He's not usually this enthusiastic," Rolf said as people started to trickle out of the cave. "For a young lad such as yourself, confidence is a must for growth."

"I'm aware," I admitted. "There's just a lot of room for improvement."

Rolf responded with a casual shrug. "And that's an endless journey. You cease striving for growth only when you're six feet under—not a moment sooner. Otherwise, you might hasten your way there."

I couldn't deny the truth in that. Rolf's insight, so profound and unexpected from a man of his… rugged exterior, often surprised me. It became evident that the books he offered me were far more than mere decorations.

Rolf's lips curled into a mischievous smirk and I realised my previous admiration was about to be ruined. “Should I find some ladies to help with that? Have you taken two women at once? It will bolster your confidence, I assure—"

I lifted my hand in a halt. "That's not going to help in the slightest."

Rolf's laughter echoed in the cave, his grin unwavering. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

My mind was not changing. Engaging in such a scenario would more likely result in a decline of my confidence rather than its improvement.

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"Would you like to join us at the tavern?" Takeda asked, glancing towards Rolf, who responded with a shake of his head.

"I've got some civic matters to address, and my bed is calling," Rolf replied, pointing his finger at him. "However, be sure, I'll out drink you both before your departure."

Acknowledging Rolf's comment with a nod, Takeda and I exited the cave, starting our journey down the hill towards the town. Strangely, the air had warmed to a spring-like gentleness, a rare phenomenon for December. It seemed as though the seasons here danced to a different rhythm. The sight of emerging greenery was a refreshing change from the prevailing snowscapes that had characterised my time here.

Stepping into the town, Takeda guided us through its lively streets. The steadfast rhythm of a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil resonated through the air, unfazed by the twilight's gentle encroachment. The path, muddied by the day’s thaw, adhered tenaciously to my boots with every stride.

After an hour's march, the aged tavern came into view, its presence announced not by a sign, but by an array of flags that fluttered from the spot where one might expect the establishment's name to be displayed.

"What significance do these flags hold?" I asked, glancing towards Takeda.

"They symbolise nations vanquished," he responded, his gaze lifting to the flags as we neared the entrance. "The owner, a retired general, honours his victories in this manner."

"Quite a collection," I remarked as Takeda opened the door to a plume of smoke that carried the rich scent of tobacco mingled with a herbal aroma that eluded my recognition.

"War is these people's culture," he said, gesturing for me to step inside. "You may enter."

I appreciated the reminder, since the act of passing through doors had become foreign to me. My days had been consumed by training and rest, with little room for exploring.

The last thing I wanted was to encounter an invisible barrier, especially in front of an audience. There was already a hint of suspicion after my face healed unusually quickly. Although no one had mentioned it outright, every time I encountered someone who had seen me before, they did a double-take.

Crossing the tavern's threshold ushered us into a wave of cheers, directed at Takeda as though he had returned victorious from some grand quest. In this community, Takeda's esteem bordered on the reverence typically reserved for legends. He had once alluded to his status as a formidable warrior, yet I sensed his acclaim extended beyond mere martial prowess. Over the last five months, my understanding of Takeda had deepened, yet paradoxically, the man himself remained a mystery. Recently, he had started to peel back layers of his guarded persona, but Takeda, ever the enigma, chose to reveal just fragments of his story, leaving the rest shrouded.

As we approached the table, a group of men were deeply immersed in a card game, their voices loud and animated. It was hard to tell if they were genuinely angry or merely caught up in the heat of the game as they threw down cards and pointed with exaggerated gestures.

We claimed the vacant seats along the table when suddenly, one of the men thrust his hand into the air. "Fetch the Valkyrie an ale," he bellowed, his voice cutting through the already boisterous room. A tavern attendant nodded quickly and scurried away. Turning to Belle, he offered a sly grin. "This round’s on me, beautiful.” His gaze momentarily dropped to the slightly undone laces of her shirt’s collar.

She was hardly revealing anything, yet he seemed incapable of maintaining eye contact.

"Thanks!" she chirped, perhaps a bit too brightly, which made me worry her enthusiasm could be misinterpreted.

For now, I chose to remain silent, but I was ready to step in if he crossed a line. It wasn't jealousy that stirred in me—rather, I disliked the predatory looks thrown her way, as if everyone was imagining a night with her. Belle and I shared a bed when I wasn’t pulling all-nighters at the training area—I could confirm that reality didn't align with their fantasies.

While Belle might have gleaned some understanding of human desires from books or snippets of conversation, her interactions with me lacked any sexual curiosity. Her flirtatious quips, largely influenced by Cora, held no real weight in my eyes. The platonic, almost familial bond that had developed between us wouldn’t permit anything more… She was occasionally, slightly over affectionate, but there was truly nothing more to it… probably. To outsiders, our relationship might have seemed unusual. I was aware of that, but I wasn't investing energy in explaining myself.

Then there were moments that made me question the nature of our bond. I had grown accustomed to her casual manner of undressing in my presence, something that initially left me flustered. Yet, it still felt inappropriate, especially since I sometimes caught my attention lingering unintentionally. Thoughts would creep into my mind that shouldn't—similar to when Lilith's seduction affected me, except these whispers felt decidedly more like my own.

This was an issue I needed to confront sooner rather than later… my urges. The discomfort was growing, at times making my skin crawl whenever Belle touched me. My emotions were getting a little hard to manage, too.

Ugh.

Perhaps it's time to confront the issue of her casual undressing in my company. We had briefly discussed the possibility of her getting separate accommodation, but I hadn't pursued the topic earnestly. While the thought of her leaving our shared space was not particularly appealing, my growing unease about the potential consequences of an accidental look or gesture worried me. Given the inherent power dynamics involved, even harmless flirtation carried moral complications.

I increasingly resented Cora's influence on Belle in this regard. Although I was reluctant to broach these delicate topics, Cora was unnecessarily deliberate in her actions—a fire she stoked intentionally.

Belle shifted her chair closer and leaned into me. Promptly, the men around us shot brief, annoyed glances in my direction—a familiar reaction. Belle's beauty was undeniable, otherworldly, and it seemed as though she monopolised the concept of allure in the eyes of the tavern men. The servers and barmaids, attractive in their own respects, became almost invisible in Belle's presence.

A smile touched her lips as I allowed our shoulders to remain in contact. These small gestures of affection often left me uneasy, especially after our intense training sessions, when I generally craved some space. It was unsettling how easily I could detach my emotions from her during our sparring, as if flipping a switch. In those moments, my nurturing, protective instincts seemed to disappear, overtaken by aggression. The guilt that followed was sharp. It was as if I underwent a transformation in the heat of the battle, becoming someone entirely unrecognisable—even to myself.

Beneath the table, her fingers found my thigh, squeezing gently. "Are you okay?" she whispered, her eyes filled with concern as she looked up at me. "You seem tense, like you're holding something back. It's okay for me to be close, right?"

I crossed my arms and kept my gaze fixed on a woman across the room. "I'm fine," I responded, trying to sound indifferent. "And yes, being close is fine."

Periodically, the woman glanced my way, stirring a deep thirst within me. The rhythm of her heartbeat momentarily activated my echolocation, which I quickly subdued. Given her persistent looks, it seemed likely she might approach me soon.

Stop looking at her, Kade.

Belle's arms wrapped around my neck, drawing me closer as her lips brushed against my ear. "Let's go back to our room. You need to feed," she whispered, her voice carrying a playful note. "You seem on edge here, and I'm beginning to worry for the barmaid's safety."

I tsked quietly, keeping my arms crossed. "There's nothing to worry about.”

"Planning to sneak away for a fuck?" the man who had bought her an ale earlier jeered. "Why'd you even invite them, Shin? They're too caught up in their own fun to be good company. Little bastard, rubbing it in our faces."

Belle's head tilted at him. "What do you mean by 'fuck'?"

Sigh.

She was fully aware of the implications. Belle often adopted the guise of a naïve, clueless girl, a facade that might have been genuine at one time but had long since evolved into a calculated act. I couldn't quite grasp the precise satisfaction she drew from this role, but I surmised it provided her with some sort of enjoyment. I held no judgement; it was advantageous for her to let others underestimate her.

Maybe I should consider a similar strategy. However, having been the vulnerable one for so long, now that I was capable of holding my own, I found myself eager to explore the dynamics of power from the other perspective. As unrefined as it might sound, I desired the chance to instil a hint of genuine fear in someone else.

There was nothing wrong with it… I only wanted to bully assholes.

The man smirked, stretching out his leg and patting his thigh suggestively. "Why not come over here and find out, Birdy? You won’t find any answers sitting there."

I redirected my attention from the barmaid to the man, my tone icy. "What makes you think she won't find answers here? Or better yet, that she hasn’t already found them?"

Ugh. There was no need for me to address that.

"Kade," Takeda interjected, his eyes narrowing in a warning.

"I'm not trying to start anything," the man responded, tapping his fingers on the old wooden table. "But I didn't appreciate your tone, boy. Remember, you're a visitor here."

"Nor did I appreciate your unwarranted advances toward what's mine," I retorted. "You might think your brutish demeanour makes you appealing, but it's rather the opposite. It makes you sound like an unintelligent animal."

"Lago, enough," Takeda cut in sharply. "And you too, Kade."

Lago gestured to himself, his expression sharp. "I'm not the one who smiles while hitting the woman beside him as if she's a toy to vent frustrations on. Do you find pleasure in tormenting her like that? I'm not the only one who has noticed."

Was he really trying to twist Belle's and my sparring sessions into something sinister? He spoke as though I was abusing her.

"And what if I do? Are you brave enough to step in?" I retorted, smirking slightly. "The only man here I fear is Takeda. But if you doubt my words, feel free to challenge them."

Belle stood up suddenly, her voice tinged with distress. "Kade doesn't enjoy hurting me," she said, extending her hands as if to keep us apart. "Let's drop it."

Lago stood up, cracking his neck. "Keep talking, boy."

I let my arms fall to my sides and stood, circling the table to face him directly. "And what if I keep talking? What are you going to do about it?"

His knuckles connected with my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Surprisingly, my health bar remained unscathed—it didn’t even register the blow, or more likely, my focus was too concentrated on retaliating. I quickly delivered a punch to his stomach before he could swing again.

As he tried to throw another punch, I ducked and tripped him with a swift foot placement, sending him crashing into a nearby table. His attempt to stand was clumsy, more due to his inebriation than any damage I had done.

He lunged at me again, his fist aimed directly at my nose. I caught his punch effortlessly at the last moment, my grip firm. A slow grin spread across my face as I subtly moved his fist to the side, ensuring he could fully see my expression. Holding his shaking hand just long enough for our eyes to lock and his annoyance to register, I then shoved him forcefully, sending him sliding across the room.

My gaze swept across the now-silent tavern, every eye locked on me. I had just shoved a man across the room, a man who likely weighed around twenty stone—yet I was easily half his weight.

The rush of euphoria was beginning to take hold. I knew I needed to leave before things escalated further.

"Let go, Belle," I said, pulling away and weaving through the crowd of tavern goers in my haste to escape the suffocating feeling of the room.

Once outside, I stopped in the middle of the road with a sigh, raising my eyes to the twin moons illuminating the night sky. An uneasiness was close to boiling over within me. I was increasingly rattled by trivial matters that should not have disturbed my composure. Cain's warning on the boat with Abble rang true—maintaining control was proving challenging. Amidst the chaos, it was easy to overlook my relative inexperience as a demon, but that didn't excuse my struggle to rein it in.

The oppressive reality of our situation grew heavier each day, further aggravated by unsettling dreams that played like echoes of a different life, disturbing my already restless sleep. These visions were unwelcome intruders, yet every time I closed my eyes, I was haunted by death—the death of loved ones, their lifeless faces etched permanently into my memory.

I clutched at my head, grappling with the unbearable sensation within. Why did it feel like this? Recalling the dreams ignited a fiery pain at the very core of my skull, as if resisting my attempts to remember.

Was I trying not to remember for some reason?

Interrupting my thoughts, Belle's gentle touch swept across my back and settled over my heart as she moved in front of me. "How can I help you carry this weight?"

Captivated by the celestial luminescence of the moons, I murmured, "Despite my progress, everything still feels so… overwhelming. Shouldn't I be better at handling my emotions by now? It's like I'm falling and I can’t stop—I'm terrified of what awaits at the bottom.”

"I'll be here to catch you," Belle promised, her eyes shining with sincerity. The wind swept through her hair, which shimmered with a surreal blue under the moon's gaze. "Talk to me. We'll sort this out together."

Massaging the back of my neck, I exhaled a heavy sigh. "There’s nothing specific to 'sort out.' It's just this feeling of detachment from myself, and it's frightening. I want to remain strong without losing myself."

Belle wrapped her arms around me, her cheek nestling against my collarbone. "You've been distant lately. If I've done anything to upset you, please tell me. I don't want to add to your stress."

I placed my hand softly on her head, offering reassurance. "It's not you. You're the one thing that keeps everything bearable."

She tightened her embrace. "Will you come back to our room, even if just for a little while?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

Belle stepped back, her smile broadening in relief. "Good!"