In the distance, a small wooden palisade stood tall. There were no trees within a bow’s range of the village.

Zavier caressed his jar. “We’re here, Toby, we’ve made it,” he murmured.

I stepped in front. “How are we doing this?” I asked Gino.

He grinned. “Persuasion,” muttered Gino.

I nodded.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to grandma and grandad. They’re great people, you’ll love them,” Zavier continued.

#

“Who’s there?” asked a man at the entrance to the village gates whose old tunic dragged across the muddy earth. The soles of his shoes were ripped, and his eyes dull.

“Zavier wishes to return to the village.” I stepped aside and the guard’s eyes drifted onto him. He did not speak or move, his eyes flickered in disgust, and hate.

I pushed Zavier up to the gate. The guard struck his spear towards Zavier’s chest. Gino cut it in half with a wind blade and I pushed him to the ground. “Bring out the chief. You don’t have a choice.”

“No,” he spoke. And he did so with strength. I heated up my fingers and seared his scalp. I didn’t have time to waste, in the castle I had learned that time and patience didn’t help when it came to humans. When they were set on an idea or a thought, it would never change.

“Argh. Stop, stop, do you know what he did? He killed my cousin. He killed my cousin! I’d rather die—”

I increased the heat. The tips of my fingers started to tingle. The guard flailed. I pressed my fingers deeper into his skull and his hair started to smoke. “Please, just call out your chief. He doesn’t need to accept; he just needs to come out.”

“Ok. Ok. I’ll—”

I let go of his head. He clutched at his new red spots. “Chief! Chief! Come out, there are guests.”

The door did not open. For five minutes the guard rolled around the ground, saliva dripped down his mouth, snot rolled down his lips, and tears stained his cheeks. Zavier, on the other hand, had covered up the homunculi’s jar.

First hands, and then a head popped above the palisade. It was an old man, tanned golden brown with grey hair, and a patchy brown beard. However, when his eyes set upon the scene, he turned white. “What, what is this?”

“This is the wish of a villager. As a gin’s assistant, I’m ordering you to open the gates and let us in, or I’ll burn you all to a crisp.” I created the largest fireball possible, emptied its inside as to form a ring and let it hover above the village. This was something Gin taught me. Imitation. There were a few spells even the least educated villagers knew, and as we could imitate them. Proper mages couldn’t be fooled, but these peasants could for they lacked the insight which came with practice. “If you refuse, may this gate to hell split into—”

“We’ll open the door!” rushed the man. “Don’t, we’ll do it, we’ll do it. No gin or mage is our enemy.” His head disappeared, and the village gates creaked open. Inside ten men equipped with scythes, shovels, and various other farm tools stood guard. Their knees trembled.

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I tapped Zavier’s shoulder. “I ask you to accept this man back into the village.”

Although they still clutched their weapons as tightly as before, their knees shook less. They were resolute in their hatred for him. “Is that a, yes?” I asked.

“Y…Ye…” stuttered the chief.

I formed a fireball, shaped it into a bolt, and aimed it at the largest house. “I want you to bring out everyone, even the youngest newborn, and have them say I accept Zavier back into the village. That’s it. We’ll leave and won’t come back.”

The chief glanced at Zavier and back at me. “You aren’t lying?”

“Why would I?”

He nodded, and soon enough, fifty-five humans stood before me. “Repeat the following, everyone. I accept Zavier back into the village.”

“I accept Zavier back into the village.” They repeated.

For a brief instant, Gino became visible to all as he bathed in silver light. All eyes on him, he spoke, “It’s done.” He became transparent once again. “That was great, but now I’m feeling sleepy.” He turned to me. “Now, for your payment, you wanted something to help you level up. Look.” He pointed to the villagers. “This village isn’t supposed to exist. They are the descendants of a village that had been overlooked when this forest was sealed. They’re the only human inhabitants of this sealed forest. They’re yours. Now, for your second wish, head to the east, under a dead oak there lies an unexplored dungeon. I’ll see you later.” Gino turned to silver dust and disappeared.

I looked around. It was hard to look into the villagers’ eyes. I could kill to eat, to survive, but to level up—animals weren’t guaranteed beasthood, but beasts were guaranteed a wish.

The world of animals was one of survival. The world of beasts would be one of greed. I created a line of fire twenty people wide and a hand tall. I couldn’t justify what I was about to do. The villagers, confused, took a few steps back.

“Did we do anything wrong?” asked the chief.

I shook my head then shot the flames. The villagers ran, some ducked down, but their clothes were engulfed in my flames. They tried to roll and cover the flames in dirt; however, my mana kept the flames alive. Some had managed to run out of the flames range and hid in their huts, which sure enough caught fire after embers drifted their way.

You killed one human, you gain 200 Exp.

LVL 4. 150/1300 Exp.

You gained 1 skill point.

I suppose only one of them saw me as an enemy, the others simply feared me. It was a tragic waste.

I stood at the entrance next to Zavier who sat on his knees clutching his jar. The fire continued to consume the village until the animals were smoked out and ran to the only exit.

I grabbed the scythe of one who was burnt earlier and stood on guard.

The villagers threw stones and rushed at me with stakes and hoes. The stones only stung and when their hoes came within range, the prince’s instincts kicked in and my scythe cut their knee, ankle, and arm tendons and ligaments. Farmers were no match for a young beast.

You killed 6 humans, you gain 1200 Exp.

LVL 5. 50/1500 Exp.

You gained 1 skill point.

There was one left. I kicked the jar out of Zavier’s hands and threw him a bloody scythe. He didn’t grab it. I kicked his jaw; he fell back but did not move.

“Attack me. I burnt down your village. Kill me, take revenge!” I screamed. He did not react. His eyes had already died.

“All my dreams have been fulfilled.” He cried. “Yes, all of them. Kill me.” The flames gave his skin an orange hue. Fat bubbled on a nearby corpse. “Now that I’ve been accepted back into the village, I want to be by their side. My wife, my son, my parents, and my friends. Please, kill me.”

Mission accomplished.

You gained 5 gods’ favours.