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Kind Demon King
14-Misunderstanding

14-Misunderstanding

Motherfucker was probably as strong as an orc, but he was also much faster and knew how to wield his swords properly. That made him more dangerous than two orcs coming at me at the same time. I could see my blade chipping away with each strike I blocked, a clear indication that he was superior in equipment as well.

“Grh! Stubborn bastard!” he growled.

“Same goes for you!” It had been ten minutes since I first started fighting him. Thankfully, my regular hunting and combat experience had improved my stamina. My breathing was rough, and sweat soaked my body, but my fighting capabilities hadn’t faltered.

“Guess I have to.” With those words, a golden aura enveloped him and his blades.

“Wha—” Before I could finish, he struck me. I barely saw it coming and the only reason my head wasn’t rolling on the ground was because of the combat experience etched into my bones allowing me to raise my sword instinctually to block. He was faster now—stronger, too. I was blown away by a single strike. Had he activated a personal skill?

(Monstrous Strength is activated. Strength is increased by 20 percent for 2 minutes.)

Whatever had made him stronger didn’t matter now. What mattered was that we were barely matched before he activated it. Now, he was out of my league. I could tell just from blocking that one strike. That’s why I had to activate my own skill to match him. My muscles expanded painfully, stretching my skin. Despite the discomfort, a surge of might coursed through my body.

“Wha—?” Our blades clashed again, and this time he was the one surprised. He clicked his tongue and backed away.

“You have this much strength, and you use it to torment beastkin?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, you unbaked potato?”

“Humans like you don’t even realize what you’re doing! Do you have any idea how much you hurt that girl?”

Hold up.

“I rescued Larve, you dumb cunt! She’s my companion, not my slave!”

He hesitated for a moment.

“Rescued from who? Her parents?”

His cold voice cut deep.

“She doesn’t have parents! She doesn’t have a home! She can’t even remember everything! I’m traveling with her so she can piece it all back together!”

“I don’t believe you.”

He attacked again.

(Duration: 40 seconds left.)

Shit. I had to clear this misunderstanding before my skill ended and I was completely overwhelmed.

“I see people like you time and time again, lying and making excuses for your atrocities. As a member of Black Claw, I will not allow—”

“What’s your relationship with Morrigan Blackclaw? Or Börü Whitefang?”

He stopped attacking, confusion flashing across his face.

“Is this another trick?”

I lowered my weapon slightly.

“She has feline ears, golden eyes, wears black, uses daggers, and is very stealthy?”

“How do you—”

He also lowered his weapon, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“I need to pull something from my coat,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t attack me if I reached in.

“But if I think you’re trying something stupid, I’ll kill you.”

I smiled, remembering Morrigan telling me the same thing. I pulled out the letter she had given me. It was slightly stained with my blood and damaged but still intact. When he saw the symbol on it, his eyes widened. He reached for the letter, but I pulled it back.

“Morrigan gave this to me to deliver to Börü Whitefang. I can’t just hand it over unless you’re him.”

He scrutinized me for a solid minute, weighing his options. Suddenly, he sheathed his weapons.

“Follow me.”

(Duration ended. Your strength will be decreased by 10 percent for the next 5 minutes.)

Weakness washed over me. It wasn’t the first time this had happened; I’d felt it often while hunting monsters. Still, it was unpleasant. I followed him.

“Are you leading me to your friends so you can gang up on me?” I joked.

“I don’t need others to kick your ass.”

I laughed.

“Maybe we can test your theory after we clear up this misunderstanding.”

He glanced back at me with a smirk.

“If you’re itching for a fight, we can do it now.”

“I would, but I need you to show the way.”

“Coward.”

“Dumbass.”

He opened a door in the ground that I hadn’t noticed before. He jumped in, and I followed. It was dark.

“Will you be able to see, human?” His tone was mocking. Beastkin seemed to have better night vision compared to humans but I could match them with my own skill.

(Night Vision is active.)

“Better than you, kitty.”

“I have a name. Also, I’m a lion beastkin, not a cat.”

“I also have a name, kitty.”

He shot me a glare over his shoulder as we navigated the twisting tunnels. I was sure he was trying to complicate the route to prevent me from memorizing it. Too bad for him—I could see perfectly in the dark and was used to following intricate paths. Finally, we reached a door, and beyond it, the room was lit.

Four people were inside. One of them was Larve, still sleeping peacefully on a bed. I sighed in relief.

“What the fuck, Arslan!” a man with bunny ears shouted, his bandaged hand raised threateningly. Another with bear-like ears pulled a knife.

“Calm down. I think we’ve misunderstood a few things. This guy knows Morrigan.”

“So fucking what? All the slavers know Morrigan! That doesn’t mean shit!”

Arslan glanced back at me.

“Show him the letter.”

I pulled it out and displayed the symbol. The bunny-eared man turned to the last person in the room—a strikingly beautiful woman with long, flame-colored hair and fox ears. I couldn’t help but wonder if all female beastkin had such silky hair. Her Asian features were captivating but it also made me think. All the other people I met had rather “white” characteristics. I wondered how many different groups of humans were there.

“Is this real?” he asked her.

She reached for the letter.

“I was given this letter from Morrigan to deliver to Börü Whitefang. I want it back after you look at it, safely,” I emphasized the last part.

“You have my word,” she said, taking it from me. Her hand glowed with a red light. I felt a surge of anxiety, worried it might damage the letter, but it remained intact.

“It is real.”