Betrayal.

Loss.

Guilt.

Despite his pierced lungs and burned face, the man could only feel those emotions. He didn't know where he was headed. His eyes were damaged by lightning. Even if they were healthy, the man wasn't sure he could see what was in front of him. Blood. He had already lost too much blood.

Ayaz Silverfox. Traitor. HUMAN SCUM. They almost achieved peace. They almost ended the fighting between humans and beastkins. Why? Why did they betray them? How foolish he was. How stupid he was to think they could coexist. How guilty he was. He was the cause of this. How many times did he talk about peace? How many times did he calm his brethren when they wanted to take revenge? How many times did he heal and set humans free? Oh, Spirit of Ancestors. He could feel their gazes. He could feel their anger. He could feel their judging fury. He was sure they wouldn't accept him when he died. They were right. He deserved it.

His friends. His brethren. They were like his family, but he led them to death.

"If we hit someone because they hit us, wouldn't they hit us again because we hit them?"

The black-haired girl protested with reddened eyes from crying.

"But she hurt me! Isn't it fair for me to hurt her?"

"Will hurting her make your pain go away?"

The girl looked down and curled her lips. The man put his hand on her head. Despite his hand being big enough to easily cover the entirety of the girl's head, he gently patted her head.

"Come on. Let's go and find ?????????. If we can find why you fought, we can find a way for you two to be friends again."

Those poor girls. They lost their parents. All because of him. He tried to remember their names. Their faces for the last time. They were like grandchildren to him. But he couldn't. Was blood loss blurring his mind this much? Or maybe he simply didn't deserve a peaceful death while remembering people he cherished. He lost his balance. If it wasn't for the tree in front of him, he would have collapsed to the ground. He simply leaned on it.

"That's it. Ancestors, forgive me."

He closed his nonfunctional eyes. His body was cold yet he didn't shiver. His huge body never felt smaller.

"Aghhhh!"

He opened his eyes. Someone was crying. A child. He grabbed the tree to support himself. His body was already at its limit. He should be dead. He stumbled towards the crying. He could only rely on his hearing, but he found the source of crying.

"Hello, little one."

He kneeled in front of the child. The truth was he had no more energy left.

"Are you hurt?"

His voice was faint and hoarse.

"I fell down. My knee is bleeding." The little girl cried out between hiccups.

"Is it a reason to cry, little one? I'll heal it right away."

With weak fingers, the man ripped a piece from his clothing. Even though his eyes no longer functioned, his experience taking care of children for years guided him. He wrapped the piece of cloth around the girl's knee.

"See? It is fine now. Now go. This place isn't safe." Even though he didn't know if the girl in front of him was a beastkin or a human, he was glad he had enough energy to help her. With the last of his energy spent, the man collapsed to the ground, his heart no longer beating.

"Hey, Uncle! You helped me, so me helping you should be fair, right? I will take all of your pain."

The man couldn't do a thing as a mask was placed on his face. Immense amounts of unholy energy were injected into his body. With what little of his consciousness, the man fought against a surge of corrupting energy. However, his will was just a spark compared to the flood of demonic energy.

Noises changing between pained moans and animalistic growls filled the cave. Even though he was hunched down, his figure was still huge. With his left hand, he covered the bare side of the face. In his right hand, he held a dagger. A black dagger. A familiar dagger. Countless emotions filled his heart. He didn't know where they came from. He didn't like them. He didn't want them. He looked at the dagger once again. It was single-edged. In the hands of a master, it could easily be thrown or used to slash and stab. It blended flawlessly with the darkness of the cave. The blade gradually tapered to a razor-sharp point, allowing for swift, precise strikes. Memories of a muscular man using it flashed in the masked man's mind. The masked man fell even lower as his head filled with pain.

It was made out of a mixture of metals. The man knew it. Metals mined from beastkin's birthplace. Embedded in the pommel of the dagger was an obsidian gemstone that appeared almost as dark as the night itself. Legends said that it was the eye of the First Jaguar Magical Beast given to his descendants so he could keep watching them and be proud, even in death. Did the current user of the daggers know that? Of course, she didn't. He wasn't there to educate her. He failed not only as a grandfather and a friend but also as a shaman and druid.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"What?"

He gasped. Who was he? A druid and shaman? Grandfather? He roared in pain, countless beasts joining him. He felt his body convulsing, his senses blurring into a nightmarish haze. The pain was excruciating, a torment beyond anything he had ever experienced. He clung to the last shreds of his willpower. He had to remember. He had to know. He had to...

Despite his efforts to remember only brought him more and more pain, and he dug deeper. In the depths of his torment, he saw fragmented images and memories flashing before his eyes. Faces of those he had cared for, scenes of laughter and camaraderie. He tried to piece them together.

"Hey, Uncle? Are you in pain?"

An innocent voice rang out.

"I am fine, little one. Just confused."

Despite the man's talking resembling an animal's growl, his tone was surprisingly gentle. The little girl slowly walked towards the hunched man. She reached her hands high and grasped the man's face.

"If you are fine, shouldn't we keep helping the beastkin? Look at the ones we helped! They look perfect!"

The little girl excitedly said while pointing to the mutated beastkin. Man slowly raised his head and looked at them.

"Yes. They are perfect. Humans can no longer hurt them."

The girl grinned ear to ear.

"But there are still a lot of beastkin needing our help! We can help them! If we do not strengthen them, humans will get them!"

"Yes." Man straightened his posture. Black energy flowed out of his body before focusing on his face and repairing his mask.

"We will help them. We will save them."

He shouted, beasts joining him and creating a thunderous war cry.

"Yes, you will. For that, I will give you all the power you need."

The girl smiled with her hands on her back. Red and black energy with a texture similar to vomit slowly dripped from her similarly colored dress. Said energy suddenly turned into whips and grabbed the man. Despite the whips piercing his body, the man didn't seem to be bothered by it. Countless growls and roars of pain accompanied by sounds of bones breaking and limbs contorting echoed all around the man. Most of the werebeasts clawed their own body parts as they kept mutating, but the man just stood still.

"Yes."

The man said while black veins bulged out of his pale skin.

"Charge. Find them. They still must be close. We will save the beastkin. We will rescue them. We will kill those traitors too. We won't let them trick them too. Never again."

Many of the beasts were mutated so much that their insides were turned outside. Logically, they shouldn't even be alive, but when man gave the order, all of them moved faster than the eye could see.

The fearsome pack of powerful beasts surged through the forest like an unleashed tempest. Their relentless march left destruction in their wake, as towering trees snapped like matchsticks and the earth trembled beneath their weight. What little plant life survived from their wild march was painted black with corrupting energy. Vines colored in a sickly green grew. A black liquid, most likely poison, dripped out of their sharp, oversized thorns. Leaves dried and turned into spores. Those spores spread in the air, searching for a host to infect. With the speed they moved, the horde of monsters quickly reached the barrier holding the beastkin.

The man could feel the barrier spreading them. It was blocking him from giving them his gift. Stopping him from helping them. He released his flock of ravens. They smashed against the barrier but there were no cracks. Whoever created it must be good. He felt a sense of pride rise inside him. Why? Before he could question it, she came forward. That poor child. That oblivious, ignorant child. She thought she could trust humans just like he once did. She looked tired. Her clothing was torn. She didn't have any wounds, at least not one he could see. She held two daggers, one black and one white. Even though he didn't send in all of his men, it was clear that he held the overwhelming number advantage. Despite all that, her eyes contained a fire. Her golden eyes. Her similar golden eyes. Pain rushed to his head.

"Uncle! Focus! Come on!"

Girl festered him again.

"Tyro."

He called out. A massive being fell out of the sky to his side. It was the biggest werebeast. Man still could remember the day he freed him. Unlike the mutations plaguing his other kin, he seemed to adapt to the corrupting energy better. He was now bigger. Bones protruded from his elbows and knees, forming sharp blades. His upper canines grew too, making him look like a saber-toothed cat. Tyro pointed towards the barrier and beastkin getting ready to defend it.

"Prey?"

Man shook his head.

"They are our kin. We will save them."

"They. Resist?"

Man slowly turned his body towards Tyro.

"We can still help them if they are crippled. Our gift…."

He raised his hand. Smoke escaped from his palm.

"Will make them better."

An expression similar to a grin formed on Tyro's face. Until now, the beastkin was able to defend the barrier against werebeasts, but it was now about to change. Tyro crouched. Then with a single jump, he slammed his entire body into the barrier. The barrier shook while defending beastkin gasped in shock. Even the werebeasts, who had lost themselves, realized something: If the barrier took several strikes like that, it would collapse. Someone had to stop him. However, nearly all beastkin knew instinctively that going against this creature was simply walking to death. To attempt to stop him was madness. Thankfully for the beastkin, a madman was on their side. A man with golden hair and a scarred face leaped forward. Two swords clad in a golden aura were swung.

"You are the big one, aren't you? I have unfinished business with you!"

The grin on Tyro's face grew larger. His claws clashed with scarred face's swords. It was clear that Tyro was the stronger one as his opponent was pushed back several steps with just one strike.

"Arslan! No, let me-" "Morrigan! Stop! Save your energy for him! I can take him!"

Arslan stopped Morrigan from helping him. He let out a loud breath.

"You are taller than him, but your builds are similar enough. I will have good practice."

Arslan took a step forward. Tyro pointed his claws towards him.

"You. Weak prey."

Despite his enemy's mocking words, Arslan's determined face didn't change. Instead, his lips curled into a small smile.

"If I heard those words 6 - no, even 1 month ago, I would be foaming from my mouth right now."

Arslan took another step forward despite the mana leaking from Tyro pressing down on his shoulders.

"But now I know that it is true. I am weak."

Golden light brighter than before ignited his swords.

"You. Die. In. My. Hand."

Tyro leaped without any pre-motions. Despite it, Arslan ducked under the massive claws.

"But that doesn't change the fact that I am going to hold you here as long as it is necessary."

Arslan roared.