The Psychopathic Beast Emperor

The room had gone quiet again, but this time... it was a different kind of quiet.

Bahamut sat on the chair, slightly leaning back, while Lily rested against him as if she had always belonged there. Her head was tucked neatly under his chin, her arms loosely wrapped around his torso, while one of his arms rested around her shoulders, holding her in place without even thinking about it.

Her tail flicked lazily behind her.

"You’re very comfortable," Bahamut muttered.

"Mhm," Lily hummed without shame, snuggling in a little closer. "I almost died. This is my reward."

"You didn’t almost die."

"I felt like I almost died. Same thing."

"Not really."

She lightly bit his chest through his clothes.

"Don’t ruin the mood."

Bahamut glanced down at her, unimpressed.

"You’re getting bold."

"I unlocked a second tail. I deserve boldness."

"That’s not how it works."

She tilted her head up slightly, her crimson eyes meeting his.

"Then how does it work?"

"You rest."

"Boring."

He sighed. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then...

"That thing you did," Bahamut said, his voice quieter now. "In the arena."

Lily stilled slightly.

"Yeah."

"The second tail."

"Yeah."

"You can’t control it."

She didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers tightened slightly against his clothes.

"I can," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Bahamut didn’t call her out.

"You lost yourself."

Silence. A longer one this time. Lily’s ears drooped slightly.

"I didn’t like it," she admitted softly. "It felt like... I was watching myself. Like I could see everything, but I couldn’t stop it."

Her grip tightened again.

"If you didn’t call me, I think I would’ve..." She trailed off.

Bahamut’s arm around her shifted slightly, pulling her a bit closer.

"Then don’t use it again."

"I might have to."

"Then get stronger first."

She huffed softly.

"You’re so strict."

"You’re reckless."

"You like it."

"Sometimes."

She smiled faintly against him.

"Idiot..."

Before he could respond...

BANG!

The door burst open. Both of them turned. Exildra stood there frozen, her eyes wide. Her gaze locked onto the scene in front of her.

Bahamut, sitting, calm, with Lily practically melted into him like a spoiled cat.

Silence. A very long silence.

"Wow."

That was all she said. Just one word, flat, calm, and dangerous. Lily blinked. Bahamut blinked. Exildra stepped forward slowly, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

"So this is what you’re doing," she continued, her tone oddly composed. "While the entire sect is in chaos."

No one spoke. Exildra walked closer, stopped right in front of them, looked at Lily, then at Bahamut, and then back at Lily.

"You look very comfortable."

Lily, instead of panicking, snuggled deeper.

"Very."

Exildra’s eye twitched.

"I see."

Another pause. Then, without warning, she climbed onto the chair from the other side and settled neatly against Bahamut’s right side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Bahamut froze: for the first time in a while, he actually froze.

Now, Lily was on the left and Exildra on the right, both pressed against him, both very comfortable.

"Exildra," he started.

"Don’t talk."

"Okay."

Lily peeked over his chest at Exildra.

"You’re not mad?"

Exildra crossed her arms.

"I am."

"You don’t look mad."

"I am mad elegantly."

"That’s not a thing."

"It is now."

Bahamut sighed quietly, his head tilting back slightly.

"The sect is in uproar?"

Exildra nodded.

"Oh yes. Congratulations. You are now officially the most talked-about person in the entire sect."

"For what reason?"

She slowly turned her head to look at him.

"You walked out of the arena carrying one girl..."

Then her gaze shifted to Lily.

"While clearly being involved with another..."

Then back to him.

"And now you’re sitting here cuddling both."

Pause.

"Publicly, might I add."

Lily raised her hand slightly.

"We’re indoors."

"Not the point."

"Feels like the point."

Exildra ignored her.

"They are calling you many things."

"Such as?"

She counted on her fingers.

"Madman. Womanizer. Legend. Idiot. Hero. Demon. Romantic disaster."

Bahamut closed his eyes.

"Romantic disaster?"

Sel’s voice echoed faintly from outside the door.

"THAT ONE’S MY FAVORITE!"

"Shut up!" Exildra snapped toward the door.

Silence followed.

Lily giggled softly.

"I like legend."

"Of course you do."

Another pause, then, Exildra leaned slightly into Bahamut.

"You didn’t even come to get me."

"You told me to stay."

"I didn’t mean it."

"You said it very clearly."

"You’re supposed to ignore that."

"That sounds inefficient."

Lily snorted.

"He’s hopeless."

Exildra sighed.

"I know."

Another silence settled, but this one was warm, comfortable. Lily shifted slightly, resting more fully against Bahamut. Exildra did the same on the other side, and Bahamut... just sat there between them.

"This is troublesome," he muttered.

Lily smiled. Exildra smirked slightly.

"You’ll survive."

And for once, he didn’t argue.

...

The arena had barely recovered from the chaos of the earlier battles. Whispers still lingered in the air, about Bahamut, about Lily, about everything, but the moment two new figures stepped onto the stage, the noise gradually died down.

Because this: this was something else. At one end stood a towering youth.

Zen.

He was massive. Easily a head taller than most disciples, with his frame built like a fortress of muscle. His arms were thick, veins faintly visible beneath his skin, his shoulders broad enough to cast a shadow over the ground. His dark hair was tied loosely behind his head, a few strands falling over his calm, almost indifferent eyes.

He stood still like a mountain, unmoving, unshaken. Across from him was a catkin, lean. Every inch of his body coiled with tension and speed. His amber eyes flickered constantly, scanning, calculating, never settling. His tail swayed low behind him, his posture slightly crouched, ready to spring at any moment.

Fast versus strong. Sharp versus heavy.

Elder Hakar raised his hand.

"Begin!"

The catkin moved first.

WHOOSH!

He vanished. The ground beneath him cracked slightly from the force of his launch as he shot toward Zen like a bullet.

Zen didn’t move.

The catkin appeared at his side.

SLASH!

Claws tore through the air, aimed straight for Zen’s ribs.

CLANG!

A metallic sound echoed. The catkin’s eyes widened.

Zen had barely moved. His arm shifted just enough to intercept the strike, his forearm taking the blow head-on. There was no damage, not even a scratch.

"Fast," Zen muttered.

Then, his fist moved.

BOOM!

The catkin’s instincts screamed. He twisted mid-air, barely avoiding the punch as it tore through the space where his head had been. The air exploded; the sheer force alone sent him spinning away. He landed lightly, skidding back, his eyes now sharp with focus.

"Monster."

Zen cracked his neck slowly.

"Come again."

The catkin grinned. Then, he disappeared again.

This time, he was faster. He didn’t attack directly. He circled, blurring around Zen in rapid, unpredictable bursts, striking from blind spots, retreating before retaliation could come.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

Claws raked across Zen’s body. His arms. His back. His sides. Small cuts appeared, shallow.

The crowd leaned forward.

"It’s working!"

Then, Zen stepped. Just one step.

BOOM!

The ground shattered beneath his foot. The shockwave spread outward, disrupting the catkin’s movement for just a fraction of a second. That was all he needed.

Zen’s hand shot out and caught the catkin mid-motion. Right by the face. The arena went silent. The catkin struggled instantly, his claws digging into Zen’s arm, trying to break free.

CRACK!

Zen slammed him into the ground. The impact shook the arena. Dust exploded outward. The catkin gasped, his body seizing from the force, but he wasn’t done. He twisted, his tail lashed.

WHIP!

It struck Zen’s wrist, forcing his grip to loosen just enough. The catkin slipped free and retaliated.

His claws carved deep across Zen’s chest this time, and blood spilled.

A real hit!

The crowd gasped. Zen looked down at the wound, then back at the catkin.

"Better."

The catkin didn’t respond; he lunged again. This time, all in.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

A flurry of strikes rained down, faster than before, sharper, more desperate. His movements became erratic, wild, pushing beyond precision into raw aggression.

Zen blocked some, took others, and each hit landed, but he didn’t fall.

He suddenly moved.

FAST.

Faster than anyone expected from someone his size.

BAM!

His fist slammed into the catkin’s guard.

CRACK!

The guard broke. The catkin’s arms bent unnaturally as the force pushed through. Before he could recover...

THUD!

Zen’s knee drove into his stomach. Air exploded from his lungs. His body lifted. Then...

SMASH!

Zen grabbed him mid-air and slammed him into the ground again, this time... Harder. The arena floor cracked deeply beneath them. The catkin coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth. He tried to move, but his body didn’t respond.

Zen stood over him, calm, breathing steady. He was untouched... aside from a few cuts. The catkin forced his head up, glaring.

"Not... done..."

He tried to rise, but his arms gave out. Zen watched him for a moment, then raised his fist, paused, and lowered it.

"You’re done."

The catkin’s vision blurred. His body finally gave in, and he fell unconscious.

"Winner... Zen."

The arena erupted into cheers and shouts because what they had just witnessed was an overwhelming force, pure, undeniable strength.