“Welcome, Captain… what’s your name again?” asked the Major.

Elron shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the shackles clinking against the table. “My name doesn’t matter.”

The Major flipped through the report in front of him, barely looking up. “Well, good thing you’ve got plenty of nicknames. You can call me Garethil.”

Elron gave a dry smile. “Pleasure, Garethil.” He glanced at the guards on either side of him and asked, “Any chance we could lose the chains?”

With a simple hand signal from the Major, the guards stepped forward, unbinding Elron before silently exiting the room. Garethil leaned in with a grin and whispered, “Sorry about that. Formalities, you know how it is.”

Elron rubbed his sore wrists, his eyes narrowing. “Formalities, huh?”

“Yes… you see, the prince wanted you discharged for that, uh, let’s call it a ‘stunt,’” Garethil continued.

Elron folded his arms, voice sharp. “You can’t be serious. I didn’t harm anyone.”

The Major let out a long breath, clearly stalling. “Right… true, no real crime was committed. But the prince and the acting general–”

“Fuck the prince,” Elron interrupted with a flat tone.

Garethil’s mouth hung open for a second before he blinked and locked eyes with the disgruntled elf. “I vouched for you.”

Elron’s expression shifted. “What does that mean?”

“It means I put my neck on the line for you. Call it kindness or a gut feeling, I’m not sure which yet,” Garethil said, his tone more serious now. “You’re staying, oh, sir beastbane.”

Elron’s face hardened. “I’m not a knight, and that’s not my name.”

The Major chuckled softly. “That’s what they’re calling you. Well, some call you less flattering things…”

Elron raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Garethil smirked. “I think the prince called you ‘mad dog,’ or something along those lines.”

Elron’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening. Garethil raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Whoa, easy there. His words, not mine. Look, I suggested we dub you ‘Champion’ instead. You’ve certainly earned it. Every time your regiment leads the front, we break through and then some. So, take it as an honor.”

“I’m just an honorary meat shield then,” Elron muttered.

The Major bit his lip and leaned in. “It’s this, or–”

“No need,” Elron cut him off. “I accept the title and whatever comes with it.”

Garethil’s face lit up. “Excellent. We’ve got a large army on the horizon. Scouts say they’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll need you front and center when it happens.”

Elron’s lips twitched, barely containing a grin. “How many? Any of them strong?”

“About ten thousand,” Garethil replied with a casual shrug. “Mostly unarmed feline beastkin.”

Elron couldn’t hide the grin now. “We’re going to slaughter them.”

Garethil allowed himself a smile too. “It seems so. Just be sure you attend the morning briefing.”

Elron’s face immediately soured.

“Or at least send someone in your place,” the Major added quickly.

“Is that all?” Elron asked, standing up.

“Yes, you’re dismissed. Thank you.”

Elron grabbed his gear from the table and headed for the door. Just as he was about to leave, Garethil called after him. “Beastbane, do yourself a favor. Stay out of the prince’s sight.”

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Elron paused in the doorway, not bothering to look back. “No promises,” he said, then walked out.

The following day, an army of bipedal cats stretched out in the distance, their bodies moving in unison as they warmed up for the fight ahead. It was an unusual sight for anyone unfamiliar with the diverse fighting styles of the beastman tribes. Every tribe had proven unique in battle, and today would be no different.

A horn blared, and the city gates creaked open. The enemy army finished their stretches and snapped to attention, waiting patiently for the next move.

Elron donned his helmet in front of the half-haphazardly repaired gate and strode out beyond the walls. As the gates closed behind him, he found himself standing in the middle of the field, well beyond the range of any supporting arrow fire. He took in the scene—the beastman force spanned across the field, a formidable force. Drawing his sword, he pointed it toward the sky and shouted, “Come die by my hand, you kitty cats!”

Cheers erupted from the army behind him, their voices rising in support of their champion. It didn’t take long for a figure to emerge from the ranks—a tiger-striped beastman, sprinted out on all fours before shifting to two legs as he neared Elron. Though the army had appeared unarmed at first, Elron could now see the long, bladed claws attached to the tiger’s forearms. The beast wore little else beyond gold earrings and a pair of leather pants.

“I thought elves were too cowardly to face us one-on-one,” the tiger growled, staring Elron down with hunter-like eyes.

Elron smirked. “Most are.” He paused, tightening his grip on his sword. “Not me though.”

The tiger took a stance Elron had never seen before and sneered, “By the end of this, you’ll be my pet,” and he spun in the air and scratched his Elron’s helmet with his back foot as he landed behind him.

Elron staggered but quickly created some distance. “Pet?! I’ll make a fucking rug out of you!” he shouted, swinging his blade.

Both sides roared in approval as the two warriors clashed. The sound of steel meeting steel echoed across the battlefield, their movements a near blur of blades and claws. The tiger fought like a whirlwind, bouncing and spinning with such unpredictability that Elron struggled to land a solid hit. He muttered a string of curses under his breath, his focus sharpening as he cast his dark magic at the foe. Slowly, the tiger’s wild energy began to wane, his movements growing more manageable.

“Void strike!” Elron yelled, swiping his blade and sending a wave of dark energy hurtling toward his opponent.

The tiger grinned, slashing down at the wave with a radiant glow, splitting it in two. The blast carved into the earth behind him, sending dust and debris flying. Elron, enraged, charged once more, his blade slicing through the air, but the beastman was always one step ahead, dodging or deflecting with his claws.

Finally, Elron grazed the tiger with a touch of his casting hand. The effect was immediate—an energy drain that caused the tiger to wince in pain. Now slightly slower, the tiger found it harder to avoid Elron’s strikes, his defense weakening with every blow.

Just as Elron was gaining the upper hand, the tiger feigned fatigue and trapped Elron in an arm bar, slamming him to the ground. Elron writhed and struggled, but the beastman’s hold was too strong.

“Yield, my pet!” the tiger roared.

Elron’s fingers sparked with electricity as he growled through his gritted teeth, “Fuck you, rug!” Casting chain lightning, the spell surged through both of them, their bodies convulsing as electric shock coursed through their veins. For a moment, onlookers swore they saw the outlines of their skeletons, but still, the tiger held on. It wasn’t until Elron cast haste on himself that he finally slipped free.

Panting and fatigued, Elron stood across from the tiger, who merely dusted himself off and said, “That was dirty.”

Elron ignored the remark, his breath heavy, eyes fixed on his opponent. Several illusionary duplicates of Elron suddenly materialized around the tiger, and the beastman spun in confusion.

The duplicates charged, but with a flurry of kicks and jabs, the tiger dispelled them, one by one. As the final illusion vanished, the tiger’s eyes widened at the sight of the real Elron. Slamming his free hand into the ground, Elron shouted, “Shadow Chains!” Black tendrils of energy shot up from the earth, wrapping around the tiger, binding him in place.

Charging his sword with dark energy, Elron unleashed a devastating blow. The tiger struggled and thrashed, but the chains held firm, wrapping around his arms, legs, and neck. He couldn’t even raise a claw as the arc of cursed energy cleaved him in two. The force of the strike, combined with the taut chains, tore the beast’s body apart, entrails spilling onto the blood-soaked ground.

You have leveled up.

Drenched in sweat, Elron staggered toward the scene and looked over the mangled remains. “Not much left for a rug now,” he muttered.

His army roared in approval, but the battle was far from over. The enemy forces began charging toward the gates, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Thousands of beastkin hurtled toward the town, and Elron stood his ground, sword clenched tightly, eyes burning with determination.

“You fucking idiot! Get back here!” Slyra’s voice called from the wall.

Elron snapped back to reality, lowering his sword. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing his friends waving and shouting from the safety of the battlements. He looked once more at the oncoming horde before mana-stepping multiple times until he was back on top of the wall.

Slyra embraced him fiercely. “Stop doing that!” she scolded, nearly knocking them both off the wall.

“Hey now, careful, or we’ll fall off,” Elron replied with a chuckle.

Garethil approached, placing a hand on Elron’s shoulder. “That was quite a show, Beastbane.” He then turned to the others and said, “Prepare yourselves. The real fight has only just begun.” And a volley of arrows rained down from the walls, signaling the start of the next battle.