Jin's breath hitched as he took in the sight before him. A Sabretooth?
The Sabretooth Tigers were among the elites of Vichitravana Forest. The monsters of the forest were divided into Common, Elite, Rare, and Unique classes, growing stronger the deeper one ventured. The Sabretooth Tigers, residing in the middle regions, were renowned for their cunning, ruthless nature, and deadly agility. Their fangs, infused with Wind elemental energy, made them highly valuable for crafting wind-based amulets and weapons.
Jin had only ever seen the corpse of one, brought back by a certain someone. Yet now, standing before him, was a living, breathing Beastchild—his features unmistakably resembling that of a Sabretooth Tiger.
The squad leader's expression twisted in frustration. He could sense the danger radiating from the child and knew this wouldn't be an easy capture.
"Hey, you bastards! Surround him and restrain him! This one's a rampaging beast now!" he barked.
At his command, the Tectodon riders moved into formation—two flanking the Beastchild from the front and back, while the remaining soldiers closed in, weapons drawn.
But the child was faster.
With a sudden burst of movement, he lunged forward, his clawed hands slashing through the air.
Three soldiers collapsed within seconds, fresh gashes marking their faces and bodies.
Gasps erupted from the gathering crowd. A child had just incapacitated three armed soldiers.
The squad leader's patience snapped. His aura surged, and in one swift motion, he unsheathed his sword, aiming to disarm the child before things got worse.
As his blade came down, a sharp screeching sound rang out. The Beastchild's claws—now faintly glowing—clashed against the steel.
He's using Wind Aura to enhance his attacks!
Even Zegion, always composed, raised an eyebrow. "So, my instinct was right… Ha. Now, what shall I do?" he murmured, watching the scene unfold.
The clash of metal and claw continued, the Beastchild dodging and striking with untrained yet terrifyingly instinctive movements. He was not merely defending—he was counterattacking.
Jin stood frozen, his eyes locked onto every movement.
So this is real combat.
He observed everything—the way the leader's Aura wrapped around his body, controlled and stable. The way the Beastchild used his natural instincts, reacting almost before the attacks even landed.
And then—
A Tectodon rider, waiting for an opening from behind, launched his spear.
It struck true.
The spearhead embedded into the Beastchild's waist, a spray of blood painting the ground. A pained cry tore through the air.
The leader seized the opportunity, his blade racing toward the child's neck— his frustration boiling over. This child had humiliated him in front of the gathered crowd, and he refused to let that stand. A decisive blow would end this struggle and remind everyone who truly held power here.
Until someone intervened.
A massive figure stepped in between, catching the blade with his bare hands.
Scary Frank.
The notorious adventurer, feared among back-alley kids for his terrifying face, stood firm, his grip tightening around the sword. His deep, gravelly voice rumbled through the tense silence.
"Isn't that enough? He's already fainting—take him back to your lord and be done with it."
The squad leader stiffened. Even someone like him couldn't ignore the sheer presence of Frank. But his pride wouldn't let him back down.
"I don't need an adventurer lecturing me. Step aside!" he growled.
Though visibly reluctant, he relented, gesturing to his men. "Pick him up."
Two soldiers approached, lifting the unconscious Beastchild.
Just as they turned to leave, another voice rang out.
"Where are you taking him? That boy is ours."
A middle-aged man came running toward the guards, his breath labored. "He belongs to the Slave trader Londark! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to acquire him?!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
A slave?
Jin's stomach churned. His fists clenched. He had just watched this Beastchild fight bravely—and now they wanted to reduce him to nothing more than property?
The man, introducing himself as Londark's right-hand man, hurriedly displayed the slave mark burned into the unconscious child's skin.
The squad leader, however, seemed uninterested in returning the boy. He spoke in hushed tones, convincing the slaver that the Baron would pay handsomely for someone with such natural ability.
Londark's man hesitated before finally nodding. The deal was made.
The excitement in the alley slowly died down, returning to the usual murmur of daily life. Jin, however, stood frozen in place.
His earlier arrogance—his belief that he was strong just because of his young age and level—had vanished completely.
Instead, his mind replayed the battle.
The way the leader wielded his Aura.
The way the Beastchild fought purely on instinct.
The way neither of them had hesitated.
This was the world he lived in.
Zegion, who had been watching him closely, remained silent. He didn't need to say anything.
Jin's eyes said it all.
That evening, back at home, the children gathered around Jin, listening with wide, fascinated eyes as he recounted the events. Some were amazed by the battle, while Lumine simply wanted to pet the tiger boy's fur.
Soon, the exhaustion of the day settled in, and one by one, they drifted off to sleep.
Yet Zegion lay awake, his mind troubled.
The moment he had seen the Beastchild, his instincts had screamed at him.
This boy has tremendous talent.
It was the same feeling he had when he first found Jin, Yuna, Ludwig, and Lumine.
If this child fell into the Baron's hands, what would happen?
Would Zilt's future be swallowed by the Baron's greed?
Zegion's gaze darkened. He had already thought of changing this town.
Would he let this be another obstacle?
Or would he do something about it?
The night stretched on, but sleep never came.