Chapter 40: Borzoi
Meanwhile, high above the land where clouds drifted like torn silk across the sky, a white gryphon cut through the wind with powerful wings, its feathers gleaming under the sun as it carried two figures across vast distances that ordinary men could only dream of crossing in days.
Clay sat at the front, one hand resting lightly against the creature’s neck while his gaze stretched far ahead, his eyes focused yet heavy with thought.
While behind him, Cerys held on quietly, her presence calm yet alert, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on him even without hearing what passed through his mind.
It’s been two days already...
The thought lingered as the wind brushed against his face, sharp and cold.
In the dream, this timing... this exact timing... this was when the beast tide started to spiral out of control.
His fingers tightened slightly.
At first, it looked manageable. Just monsters clashing, just a normal tide. But then something changed. Something came after...
His brows furrowed.
That tribe... those lunatics...
A faint irritation flickered in his chest.
They don’t care about people. They don’t care about kingdoms. To them, strength is everything. Weakness is a sin. If they reach the border town before I do...
His jaw clenched.
Those humans won’t survive.
The gryphon let out a low cry as it continued forward, its speed already impressive, yet Clay still felt it was not enough.
"Faster," he muttered under his breath.
The gryphon responded with a sharp flap of its wings, accelerating further as the air screamed around them.
Behind him, Cerys remained silent, though her eyes briefly glanced at his back.
Young master... you’re worried...
She lowered her gaze slightly.
Who are these people... for you to think deeply like this...
The wind carried them onward.
And far below...
...
Back in the border town of the North, the atmosphere had changed completely.
On top of the towering walls, one of the archers stood frozen, his bow hanging loosely in his hand as his eyes remained locked on the distant battlefield.
His breathing grew uneven.
"What... what is that..."
He rubbed his eyes roughly, as if trying to wake himself from a dream.
But when he looked again—
It was still there.
That small figure.
That human-sized being standing among monsters that towered over it like mountains.
Before he could even process what he was seeing, another beast charged toward the figure, its massive body covered in thick fur, its claws large enough to crush stone.
It was a bear.
A magical beast bear.
Its roar shook the ground as it lunged forward, its jaws wide open, ready to tear its prey apart.
The archer’s heart jumped into his throat.
"Watch out!"
He shouted instinctively, even though he knew the figure could not hear him.
But then—
The figure moved.
No.
It did not even look like movement.
It simply raised its hand.
And punched.
BOOM!
The sound exploded across the battlefield.
The bear’s body jerked violently.
Then—
Holes appeared.
One.
BAM!
Two.
BAM!
Three.
BAM!
Dozens.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
As if something had pierced through it again and again in a single instant.
The beast’s massive body trembled.
Then collapsed.
Dead.
Just like that.
The archer’s mouth fell open.
His fingers loosened around his bow.
The more he looked, the more his vision blurred, not because of distance, but because his mind refused to accept what he was seeing.
"What... what kind of monster is that..."
Before he could say anything more, a voice called out behind him.
"Archers! Report!"
The captain’s voice was firm, sharp, cutting through the tension.
"What is happening out there?! Why are the beasts being thrown back?!"
The archer opened his mouth.
But no words came out.
His throat felt dry.
His mind blank.
And then—
A presence appeared beside him.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just... there.
The archer turned his head slowly.
And when he saw what stood next to him—
His entire body stiffened.
His legs trembled.
His grip failed.
He nearly collapsed.
"H-!"
The captain, standing below with the white-clothed knights mounted on their war horses, narrowed his eyes as he noticed the sudden change.
"What is it?! Speak!"
Then—
He saw it too.
Standing on the wall.
A human.
At least... it looked human.
Its form was similar.
Its posture relaxed.
But its skin... were completely red.
Deep, unnatural red, like blood that had soaked into flesh and never faded.
The captain’s eyes widened.
"What... what..."
His voice faltered.
Then burst out.
"It’s a demon?!"
The words struck like lightning.
"A demon?!"
The soldiers panicked instantly.
"What do you mean a demon?!"
"No... no... that can’t be..."
The knights tightened their grips on their weapons, their horses restless beneath them.
Demons.
Creatures that existed beyond ordinary understanding.
Beings spoken of only in old records and whispered stories.
Each one possessing power that defied reason.
Even a single demon was said to be capable of destroying half of the Holy Kingdom if left unchecked.
Cities would fall.
Armies would crumble.
And no one would be able to stop them.
Fear spread like wildfire.
But then—
The red-skinned figure tilted its head.
"Huh?"
Its voice was casual.
Confused.
"Demon? Who?"
And before their eyes—
The red skin began to change.
Color fading.
Tone shifting.
Until it became...
Brown.
The figure now looked like a native human.
Completely ordinary.
The captain blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"You..."
His voice trembled.
"You’re not a demon?"
The man scratched his head.
"I am not."
The captain stared at him.
His mind struggled to process what he was seeing.
Then, slowly, he stepped forward.
"What... what did you eat?"
The question came out awkwardly, but he could not help it.
"What kind of being turns their skin red like that?"
The man blinked.
"Eat?"
"Yes, eat! What did you eat?!"
The captain pressed further.
"Do you eat like us? Do you sleep? Do you..."
He hesitated.
Then forced it out.
"Do you... defecate like us?"
The soldiers around him nearly choked.
But no one laughed.
Because no one dared.
The man looked at him strangely.
"Of course I eat. Of course I sleep. Of course I... do that."
He shrugged.
"What kind of question is that?"
The captain swallowed.
His heart still pounded.
"Then... why was your skin red?"
The man stretched his arms slightly, as if loosening up.
"Oh. That."
He said it casually.
"It happens when I fight."
The captain froze.
"Fight...?"
The man nodded.
Then smiled.
A simple smile.
Yet it carried something heavy behind it.
"My name is Borzoi."
He placed a hand on his chest.
"I come from the Bersuka Tribe."
His voice grew louder.
Proud.
Confident.
"The strongest tribe in the world."
The words echoed across the wall.
The soldiers felt their hearts tighten.
Because they had seen it.
They had seen what he did.
Monsters falling from the sky.
Bodies crushed.
Beasts torn apart as if they were nothing.
And now this man stood before them... alone.
"I was passing by," Borzoi continued, his tone almost casual, as if speaking about something trivial.
"And I saw this place."
His eyes slowly and calmly swept across the soldiers.
"We do not allow the weak to live."
The air turned cold.
"If you are weak, you become slaves."
His smile remained.
"If you are too weak... you die."
Several soldiers stepped back unconsciously.
Fear crept into their bones.
"So I thought..."
Borzoi cracked his neck lightly.
"I should test you."
His body moved.
He stepped off the wall.
Falling.
Then—
BOOM!
He landed below with a heavy impact, dust rising around him.
He stood there, with his arms crossed. Looking straight at them.
"I am not merciful."
His voice rose.
"If none of you can make me bleed..."
His eyes gleamed.
"Then all of you die."
Silence fell.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
The weight of his words pressed down on them like a mountain.
Then—
The captain clenched his fists.
His face filled with anger.
His voice rose.
"That’s unreasonable!"