I yawn. I stretch my paws lazily, blink a few times, and wake up. I lick my lips, still tasting the remnants of last night’s feast. My current sleeping spot? A nice, elevated boulder high enough to give me a perfect view of the forest below. Not a bad perch for a king-in-training like me.

Wait… what’s that?

Down below, something’s moving. Is it a cat? Or a person? It’s running on two legs, but it has long silver hair, and—are those… clothes? I squint. So, it’s a person then?

But wait… it has cat-like ears. And a tail. So, a cat?

I can’t tell. My brain is doing flips. What in the tuna-flavored madness is this thing?

I suddenly remember Fatso back home, making love to his pillows with similar features. And here I was, thinking that kind of thing wasn’t real. Huh. Fatso might have been onto something after all. Then I recall what the Tiger God told me: the cats in this world look different from how we do. Maybe that’s it? Maybe this strange creature is a local “cat.”

The cat-woman—or whatever she is—is running, and behind her, I see a horde of… walking skeletons? I dig into my language packet—ah, right, they’re called the undead. Cool.

I watch as the cat-woman swings a lump of metal—probably a sword, I think? She’s trapped, surrounded by those bony freaks. She’s getting hit, bloodied, struggling. But she fights back, her sword glowing occasionally. A magic sword? A special ability, maybe? Nice touch, I guess.

I sit on my boulder, tail swishing lazily. She’s really having a tough time down there, poor thing. But I’m more curious than concerned. Also, I kinda wish I had snacks with me. This is shaping up to be a decent show.

She’s bleeding now, clearly exhausted. I could help, but… do I really want to?

I yawn again. “She’ll be fine,” I mumble to myself. Probably.

Oh, she’s crying, isn’t she? If it weren’t for my incredible eyesight, I wouldn’t be able to see this so clearly. Huh, when did my eyes get this sharp again? Oh, right—after I ate that hawk. That was a good day.

Ugh, these trees and leaves are getting in the way. Sheesh.

I peer down, and yep, the undead are really swarming her now. Oof, did they just take out her eye? Yep, definitely got her eye. That’s rough. Honestly, I was hoping she’d win this fight. I mean, she’s showing some valiant fighting spirit, and I can’t help but feel a little bad. Guess it’s time for me to step in.

Between my comfy napping spot and her, there are miles and miles of forest. But that’s nothing to me. I am a cat. I can do anything.

A few minutes later, I’m perched atop the cat woman’s head. She doesn’t even notice me as she raises her sword, still fighting for her life.

“Burn,” I whisper casually, activating my pyrokinesis. Instantly, the undead around us burst into flames, their bones crackling like dry leaves. They’re pretty weak, honestly, and their only advantage is sheer numbers.

The cat woman leans heavily against a tree, breathing raggedly. I leap gracefully from her head and land in front of her, ready to face the remaining skeletons. There are so many of them—everywhere I look, more undead appear, crawling out from behind trees, rocks, you name it. It’s like they’re coming out of the woodwork. Creepy.

“W-who are you?” she asks, her voice weak but curious.

“I am Kaiser,” I reply, summoning a circle of flames around us for protection. “Where do you hail from, silver-eared warrior?”

“I… I am from the Cat Tribe of Gerdan—” she starts, but before she can finish, she faints, collapsing against the tree.

Cat Tribe, huh? So, she is a cat after all. Figures.

I look around at the remaining skeletons. “Well, this is going to be fun,” I mutter, flames flickering in my paws, ready to finish off the horde.

Okay. No more holding back.

Fatso used to tell me that there’s power in names—that’s why people shout their special moves whenever they can. It’s a sign of composure, power, and proof that you’re in an unassailable position. So naturally, I’m going to flex a little.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Ninety-Seven Blazing Spears!” I declare with as much dramatic flair as possible.

Exactly ninety-seven compressed and superheated spears of flame materialize around me, each one glowing so hot that the edges have turned blue. That’s how you know I’m not messing around. The air shimmers, becoming hazy from the intense heat, like I just set off a personal heatwave.

“Die, you miserable wretches of the underworld!” I shout as I launch the spears.

Each one zooms out with perfect precision, homing in on the skeletons like fiery missiles, hitting them right in their phylacteries.

The spears twirl and dance through the air, weaving in and out like they’ve got a mind of their own. The skeletons barely make it two steps before they either combust or crumble into ash. It’s like watching a firework show, only better because I’m the one causing it.

“Uoogh~!” a skeleton groans as it collapses into a pile of burning bones.

“Die!” I yell.

“Die! Die!” they shout back, as if they still have a chance.

Well, at least they’re enthusiastic, I’ll give them that. But it’s no use. None of them even make it to the circle of fire I’ve created around me and the fainted cat woman. Not one.

I wonder what these guys have against the cat woman. She's clearly important, but why all the trouble? Just as I'm pondering, an exceptional specimen of undead manages to pierce through my circular wall of flames. It’s massive—over two meters tall. And yes, I do know my numbers, thank you very much.

This thing looks like bad news. It’s carrying a shield and a broadsword, the size of which makes Fatso’s biggest pizza look like a snack. According to my language packet, it’s a Death Knight. Fancy.

It seems to possess some kind of supernatural power, teleporting right in front of me in a split second. Or is that someone else’s trick? Either way, this oversized tin can means business.

“Fall to my blade, you puny creature!” the Death Knight growls as it swings its broadsword at me.

Puny creature? Rude.

But I’m faster.

“RETURN!” I command, and the blazing spears I’d just unleashed respond to me immediately, zipping back through the air toward their new target.

They converge on the Death Knight in an instant. The moment they strike, the thing bursts into flames, its armor glowing red-hot as the heat melts through it.

For a second, it lets out an unearthly roar, flailing its sword around, but there’s no escaping my fire. Soon, it crumbles into ash, just like all the others.

I flick my tail, pleased. “Well, that was fun.”

More undead gather, crawling out from the shadows, summoned by some unseen force. I can feel it—this is an unending army, swarming toward me like a tide that refuses to break.

I glance at the cat woman. She’s hanging by a thread. My sixth sense tells me she’s on the verge of death, and if I don’t act soon, she won’t make it.

Escape crosses my mind for a second, but I push it aside. No. Retreat is not an option. It’s impermissible. A king doesn’t run. I’ll finish this—now.

I raise my aura, pushing it out tenfold. My breath becomes hotter, like molten lava simmering just beneath my skin. But this still isn’t enough. I can feel it. I need more. I dig deeper, forcing my power higher, cranking it up another tenfold. This isn’t just some imaginary power boost—I’m literally overclocking my own cells with pyrokinesis, supercharging them until I feel my strength surge a hundredfold. My whole body feels like a furnace.

“I didn’t know I’d have to resort to this, but I guess—” I smirk, feeling the sheer power coursing through me.

I swipe my claws forward, unleashing five massive, sword-like slashes of pure, fiery energy. They shoot forward, cutting through the horde of undead like butter, slicing through trees, earth, everything in their path. Five deep ravines carve themselves into the ground ahead, stretching far into the distance as the remnants of the undead army are shredded to pieces.

“I guess there is romance in swordsmanship after all,” I muse, watching the destruction unfold.

The forest falls silent.

And then.

“Guoooh~!”

Oh come on! Really?! More undead? Seriously, where’s the off button for this nightmare?

Motherf—!

Rising from the shadows under the tree shades, five giant Death Knights march forward. Each one hefts a broadsword and shield, their eyes gleaming with a sinister red glow. Their armor-covered flesh marks them as high-ranking Death Knights, the same strength as the one that tried to ambush me earlier. And there are five of them now.

Behind them, lower-level skeletons swarm, filling the gaps like cannon fodder, while some patchwork zombie thing—called an Abomination (thanks, language packet)—lumbers forward, brandishing a bow bigger than anything a human could wield.

“Fine,” I mutter, feeling my fur ignite into flames. “I’m going to destroy you all.”

The skeletons charge, swarming like a horde of locusts. The Death Knights, however, stay back, standing in formation as the Abomination loads its ridiculous bow.

You want a showdown? Alright, then.

I inhale deeply, gathering every bit of power I can muster. My pyrokinesis spreads through my body, supercharging it. My vocal cords hum with raw power, and my agility sharpens to a razor’s edge. Finally, I channel everything I’ve learned about swordsmanship—not for actual sword use, of course, but to imbue sound with my aura.

Secret Art: The Flame King’s Roar.

“RAAAAGH~!”

Everything in the path of my roar explodes into flames. EVERYTHING.

The trees? Gone. Charcoal.

The undead? Ashes.

The Death Knights? Vaporized.

The Abomination? Toast.

The shadows? Vanquished.

I turn around, and—oh shit! The cat woman!

I scan the area quickly. She’s alive, unconscious but intact, lying against the only tree that somehow survived my awesome roar. My protective circle of fire kept her safe. Huh, weird… Is she healing from my flames?

Nah, she’ll be fine. She’s a cat, after all.

Come to think of it, since I ate that one-horned horse, I’ve been feeling way healthier than usual. Maybe she’s got the same thing going on.