The first day of the beast tide.
Alex stood atop the towering walls of the city, the lingering adrenaline from his battle with the Thunder Wolf still coursing through his veins.
Beneath him, the city sprawled—a testament to human ingenuity, its structures reinforced with powerful runes that pulsed faintly in the dimming light. The air carried the scent of enchantments, the essence of carefully woven magic lingering like an unseen mist.
This city was home to an intermediate clan of runesmiths and a lesser clan of illusionists—a formidable combination.
The runesmiths ensured that nothing short of an overwhelming disaster could breach these walls, while the illusionists kept threats at bay through deception and misdirection. No beast tide had ever reached this fortress of craftsmanship and guile.
But walls and illusions meant nothing to him.
"Nova."
["Already done,"] the AI responded instantly.
The intricate rune formations designed to detect intruders, repel threats, or alert the guards had been compromised. Not destroyed—no, that would have been too blatant. Instead, Nova had subtly weakened their potency, rendering them ineffective while maintaining the illusion of their integrity.
And so, Alex walked freely.
No eyes followed him. No alarms blared. The guards at the checkpoints continued their monotonous duties, unaware that an intruder had passed right before them. To them, he simply did not exist.
Walking through the central district, he observed the stark contrast between this city and the war-torn battlefields beyond.
There was no panic. No urgency.
The civilians here had heard of the beast tide—rumors traveled quickly, especially with warriors moving between regions. But none of them believed the battle would ever reach them.
Why would they?
No beast tide had ever breached a city's defenses.
No significant losses have been suffered in recent years.
The Earth Clan had always won.
To them, this was just another cycle, another routine war—one they expected the Earth Clan to handle like they always did.
Some had even placed wagers on how long the battle would last, treating the crisis like a spectacle rather than an existential threat.
Fools.
Alex passed a group of young men, apprentice runesmiths, chatting animatedly about future projects, their voices carefree, their concerns far removed from the looming catastrophe. One of them laughed and said,
"They always exaggerate these tides, but none have ever reached our lands. The Clans handle them before they become a real problem. It's not like we'll ever have to fight."
Alex nearly laughed himself.
How naïve.
He arrived at a luxurious hotel in the city's heart—the kind of establishment where only the wealthy could afford to indulge.
The Argent Pearl stood tall, its architecture pristine, adorned with shimmering runic crystals that maintained an atmosphere of serene elegance. A soft hum of ambient mana filled the air, ensuring a perfect climate, regardless of season.
The receptionist greeted him with a polished smile, her voice gentle and practiced.
"Welcome to the Argent Pearl. How may I assist you?"
"A private suite," Alex replied, his tone steady, unreadable.
"Of course, sir. Your name?"
"Mr. Kael Draymor."
He had been using these aliases more frequently.
Within minutes, he had his key. No questions. No suspicion.
No one knew he had walked through their defenses like a ghost.
As he made his way toward the elevator, a voice slithered into his mind, smooth yet edged with quiet scrutiny.
"That was your plan all along, wasn't it?"
Nyxara.
The tigress was not physically beside him—she remained hidden within his spatial storage to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Yet, through their bond, her presence was unmistakable.
He said nothing.
She let out a low growl, not of anger, but of somber realization.
"You caused this beast tide."
He did not confirm nor deny it.
"Because of this war, the Earth Clan will lose some of its power," she continued, her voice steady, yet carrying an unspoken weight. "Their forces will be thinned. Their warriors exhausted."
Her voice wavered slightly.
"But that means… innocent people will be caught in the war, Alex."
Silence.
He stood motionless in the elevator, the hum of its ascent the only sound between them.
Then, softly, he responded.
"That's the sin I must carry for walking this path, Nyxara."
The tigress did not argue.
Because she knew he was right.
But that did not mean she had to like it.
She was not siding with the humans—she was a beast, after all. But the death of innocents was a burden too significant for a single man to bear.
Especially a man who was only one step away from losing his human emotions.