"How the hell did you let him escape?!" a booming voice shouted from within a massive red tent.

Inside, Zardo stood silently, his horns adorned with badges as he stared at the ground.

"You had your opportunity, and you missed it! How useless can you be?!" the voice continued to berate him.

Zardo remained still as a massive orc sitting on a chair glared at him. The orc had dark green skin marred with small cuts across his face. He wore rugged armor made of metal and leather, with sharp spikes adorning his shoulder plates, arm guards, and leg armor, enhancing his intimidating presence. Over one shoulder, he draped a fur cloak. His glowing red eyes blazed with fury.

"Zardo!" the orc barked.

"Y-yes, sir!" Zardo stammered, cold sweat dripping down his face.

"Why didn’t you catch the slave?" the orc demanded.

"Well..." Zardo hesitated. "I underestimated him. He turned out to be stronger than I thought."

The orc sighed in exasperation. "You should *never* underestimate your opponents!" he roared. "If only you had called for reinforcements and actually focused on that slave..." He shook his head in frustration.

"Leader Byron!" a guard called as he rushed into the tent.

"What is it?!" Byron snapped.

"G-General Valena is here!" the guard stammered, trembling with fear.

"Valena? What the hell is she doing here..." Byron muttered as he rose from his chair and strode toward the tent’s exit. "We’ll continue this later, Zardo. You’d better learn from this," Byron said before leaving the tent.

Zardo swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he replied quietly.

As Byron disappeared, Zardo’s eyes narrowed, glowing red with fury. "*Kajin... Kajin... Kajin!!!* Just wait," Zardo seethed inwardly. "I’ll make you pay in the most painful way possible!"

Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder startled him.

"Sir," said the guard who had called for Byron earlier. "Because most of your soldiers were killed during your fight, Leader Byron has temporarily removed you from your position."

Zardo clenched his fists, his body trembling with rage.

"FUCKKKKK!!!" Zardo screamed, his voice echoing throughout the tent.

Byron walked through the bustling camp filled with smaller tents, fire pits, blacksmiths, weapons, and soldiers. His eyes scanned the organized chaos until he reached a small open tent where Valena sat. The tent's shadow concealed her face as she sipped from a glass of wine, flanked by soldiers wearing armor distinct from the rest.

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Valena turned her head slightly to face him. "Ah, my dear Byron! It's been a while!" she said with a wide smile. "The wine here is decent, but nothing beats a cold beer." She leaned back slightly, waiting for Byron to respond.

"General Valena, what are you doing here?" Byron asked, his tone heavy and serious. "If I remember correctly, the king assigned you to oversee the main slave route. Considering the recent raids there, you shouldn’t even be here," he added bluntly.

Valena giggled as she rose from her seat, locking eyes with Byron. "Oh, Byron, must you always be so strict with me?" she teased. "I only came to visit an old friend, but it feels like you're eager to see me gone already."

Byron remained calm and silent, his gaze steady.

Suddenly, Zardo emerged from the tent’s shadow, rushing toward Byron with teeth bared. Before Zardo could strike, his body dissolved into countless dark magic particles that scattered to the ground in front of Byron.

Byron sighed, closing his eyes briefly in disappointment. "I knew you’d try this," he said.

Valena laughed softly. "Oh, dear Byron, I just couldn’t resist," she said, stepping forward from the shadows.

Her sharp, long red horns, extending from the sides of her forehead, glistened under the light. Her short, shoulder-length purple hair swayed with her movements. Valena’s slender yet toned hourglass figure, her white skin, and her simple gray sleeveless top exposing her midriff, paired with black pants, made an alluring impression.

Byron’s eyes widened slightly, catching the sight. Noticing this, Valena chuckled. "Hmhmhm... Well, well, well, it seems someone hasn’t seen a woman in quite a while~," she said playfully. "You like what you see, don’t you?" she teased with a seductive giggle.

Byron froze in place as she deliberately swayed her body, accentuating her curves.

"O-Okay, stop this!" Byron shouted, covering his eyes with one hand.

Valena laughed softly. "So, Byron... I heard one of your divisions encountered the slave," she said innocently.

Byron’s expression shifted in surprise.

"Yeah... One of my divisions encountered him," Byron admitted, careful not to reveal too much.

Valena leaned closer, crossing her arms to emphasize her chest, her eyes gazing up at him. "And...?" she asked in a sultry tone.

Byron closed his eyes tightly, but after a moment, he exhaled and opened them. "We don’t know where he went, but we suspect he’s heading toward Slavara," he said, his face now flushed.

Valena grinned, clearly pleased. She suddenly hugged Byron’s hips tightly, pressing her curves against him. "Thank you, Byron! You’re the best!" she said in a seductive voice.

Byron stood frozen, blood trickling from his nose. Soldiers passing by stopped in their tracks, staring in shock at the scene.

Releasing the hug, Valena smiled mischievously before walking toward the camp's exit. "I should go now; I have lots of work to do, as you said, my dear Byron! Byeee!" she called, her guards trailing behind.

Byron watched her leave, then slapped himself hard across the face. "Damn it. I’ve been so focused lately that I haven’t taken any time for myself," he thought bitterly. "She probably knew that and came here just to extract information."

Turning to the soldiers still frozen in place, he shouted, "Get back to work, idiots!"

The soldiers snapped out of it and quickly resumed their tasks.

Sighing deeply, Byron made his way back to his tent. "All these events are stressing me out," he muttered.

~~~

Kajin entered a small opening within a massive tree, where a young boy lay on the ground. The boy wore a torn, old gray shirt and shorts. His body was covered in bruises, particularly around his knees and ankles. His short brown hair was dirty and messy, and his soft facial features and pale skin hinted at both youth and hardship.

"Judging by his appearance, he seems to be around 10 to 13 years old," Kajin muttered to himself.

Kneeling beside the boy, Kajin placed a hand on his forehead, and his palm began to glow faintly.

"Hmm... he's human, and his mana level is average," Kajin thought. "He was carrying a bow when we encountered him, so he’s likely a marksman."

Removing his hand from the boy's forehead, Kajin shifted it to the boy's stomach. A gentle wave of energy radiated from his palm, spreading across the boy’s body.

"Now..." Kajin said softly as the boy’s eyes fluttered open, "let me hear your story, little guy."