Krad stumbled to his feet, wiping the remaining drool from his chin. His brain still felt like mush from the sheer power of Vice's beauty, but he forced himself to stay somewhat composed.
"Uh… Miss Vice. What brings you here?" Ask Drugo.
Vice's eyes sparkled, her mouth twisting into a wise smirk. "I felt something was off." She folded her arms elegantly. "And, naturally, I had to step in before you two turned half the town into a disaster zone."
"I wouldn't have gone that far." Drugo said.
"Oh, really? Because that whole tree-tentacle stunt earlier practically screamed 'urban demolition,'" Krad retorted.
"Enough." Vice's voice was like a chime, instantly silencing them both. "Hanan," she said, her tone suddenly stern. "There's something far more pressing to address."
Hanan visibly tensed, her silver hair catching the light. "Miss Vice…?"
"Why didn't you fight back against your sister, Bruwa?" Vice's gaze pierced through Hanan.
Krad blinked, the words taking a moment to register. "Wait, wait, wait. Sister? Bruwa is your sister?"
Hanan's hands clenched at her sides, her lips trembling as if the words burned her.
"Yes," she whispered. "Bruwa is my younger sister."
Krad's jaw dropped. The same Bruwa who had mocked Hanan, who had humiliated her without mercy, was her sister? The revelation twisted in his gut.
"But why?" Krad's voice was laced with disbelief. "Why would she do that to you?"
Vice stepped forward, "Because Bruwa has chosen the path of power. Liyab's influence has consumed her."
Krad clenched his fists. "But Hanan," his voice softened. "Why didn't you fight back? You're strong. You could've stopped her."
Hanan flinched, the pain evident in her eyes. "Because she's still my sister."
Silence settled between them.
"She wasn't like this before," Hanan whispered. "We grew up together at the castle. She used to laugh, sing, and dream about exploring the world. But when the Goblin Lord Damos destroyed our kingdom... everything changed."
Before anyone could respond, a loud, unmistakable sound echoed through the tense silence.
Grrrrrrroooowl.
"...Seriously?" Vice raised a perfectly arched brow.
Krad's stomach let out another loud growl, even more obnoxious this time. He hunched over, clutching his belly like it might rebel against him at any moment.
"Ugh... I think I'm dying," He groaned dramatically. "Handsome, we need to head back to your restaurant!"
Drugo immediately scowled, crossing his massive arms. "No."
"No?" Krad blinked, genuinely offended. "But I'm starving! And your food is literally the best thing I've ever tasted. Don't be cruel, Tree Man, I mean handsome!"
Drugo's jaw twitched. "That's exactly why I'm saying no. You ate half my stock last night. If I let you back in, I might as well shut down for the week!"
Krad gasped, clutching his chest as if physically wounded. "You can't deny a starving elf his rights! It's inhumane!"
Drugo glared at him. "You're not even human anymore."
"Demi-human, then!" Krad shot back, puffing his chest.
Vice snorted, barely containing her amusement. "Honestly, Drugo, just throw him a twig or something. Maybe he'll start photosynthesizing."
"Har, har," Krad deadpanned. "I don't see anyone else offering food around here. You're my only hope!"
Drugo sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. I'll cook you one meal. One. After that, you're on your own."
"Deal!" Krad's face lit up like a child promised candy. "I'll even help with the dishes! Probably."
Drugo gave him a pointed look, clearly doubting that last part. But with a grumble, he motioned for them to follow.
Even as the tension eased, Hanan's words lingered in Krad's mind.
Bruwa was her sister. And that meant the Rage wouldn't just be a fight for pride or survival.
It was personal.
"Three days," He mumbled to himself. "I'll be ready."
But first, food.
The scent of roasting meat and sizzling herbs filled the air as they stepped inside Drugo's restaurant. His mouth watered just from the lingering smell of last night's feast.
"Sit," Drugo grumbled, gesturing toward a table. "And don't even think about raiding the pantry while I cook."
"I would never," he said, but the innocent smile he flashed did little to ease Drugo's suspicion.
Hanan quietly took a seat beside him, her silver hair draping over her shoulder like silk. Vice settled across from them, studying Krad with an unreadable expression.
Krad shifted under her gaze. "I-is there a problem?"
Vice's lips twitched upward. "No, I was merely wondering how someone with the Moon Eater's mark could still complain about something as trivial as hunger."
"Hey, just because I've got some fancy mark doesn't mean I'm not a growing new elf who needs sustenance." Krad huffed.
Drugo grunted from the kitchen. "You mean the 'smug face' you swore to wipe off in three days?"
Krad stiffened. "That... might've been a heat-of-the-moment thing."
"Typical," Vice mused. "Confidence without a plan."
"I have a plan," Krad protested. "It's just... in the brainstorming phase."
Vice chuckled softly, but before she could respond, Drugo emerged from the kitchen, carrying a massive wooden tray piled high with food. A whole roasted boar, glistening with honey glaze, sat at the center, surrounded by golden-brown bread rolls, crispy herb potatoes, and fresh berry tarts.
Krad's eyes practically sparkled.
"Oh, Great Eldertree, bless this feast."
Drugo gave him a flat stare. "Don't drag the Eldertree into your gluttony."
Krad was already halfway through a bread roll. "Mmph, shuh goohd," he mumbled, crumbs flying.
Hanan shook her head with a soft chuckle, while Vice simply sipped on a cup of fragrant tea. The tension from earlier seemed like a distant memory as the warmth of the meal filled the air. Even Drugo, though he grumbled every now and then, seemed to relax.
"So," Hanan began, swirling her tea thoughtfully. "What exactly is your plan, Master Krad? The Rage isn't something you can stumble through on luck alone."
Krad paused mid-bite. He knew she was right. Liyab and his gang weren't just strong. They were ruthless. And while he wasn't one to back down from a fight, he had to face the facts.
"I'm gonna train." he said firmly.
Drugo raised a brow. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You barely understand your abilities. You're still adjusting to your new body. You're an elf now, remember?"
Krad scowled. "Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Tree Man."
"And then there's the mark," Vice added. "The Moon Eater's power is unpredictable. If you don't learn to control it, it could consume you."
Krad shifted uncomfortably. He remembered the chilling sensation from when the mark first awakened. Like a primal force clawing at his soul. It had granted him strength, but it wasn't without consequence.
"That's why I'll figure it out," he said with conviction. "Whatever it takes."
Vice studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Because failure is not an option."
The weight of her words sank in. Three days. That was all the time he had to prepare.
He took a massive bite of the roasted boar, savoring the sweetness of the glaze.
He swallowed hard, setting down his fork. "Alright, alright. Do any of you actually know someone who can help me?"
Vice's lips curled into an amused smirk. "As a matter of fact, I do."
Krad perked up, his pointed ears twitching. "Really? Who?"
"His name is Mist," Vice replied. "A seasoned fighter. One of the strongest within the Tiger Squad."
"Tiger Squad?" His ears perked up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Did you just say Tiger?"
Vice arched a brow, "Yes. Mist, from the Tiger Squad."
For a brief, ridiculous moment, he imagined standing on a grand esports stage, bathed in neon lights, his name plastered across screens as the crowd roared.
Back in the human world, he'd dreamed of joining Tiger Esports, one of the most legendary teams to ever dominate the gaming scene. They were untouchable, their players were practically gods in the competitive gaming world.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Krad practically slammed his fork down. "You mean to tell me there's a Tiger Squad in this realm? Like... an actual Tiger Squad? And Mist is part of it?"
"Obviously," Drugo grunted, unimpressed by his outburst. "They're well-known. You'd know that if you bothered to learn anything other than how to stuff your face."
"Shh, Tree Man, this is important!" Krad spun toward Vice. "Is Mist like... the squad leader? Or one of those insane rankers?"
"He's neither," Vice replied smoothly. "Mist is more of a free spirit. Not one for leadership, but his combat skills are undeniable. He's a tactical genius."
Krad's mind raced. He had to meet Mist. Not just because he needed to train, but because this felt like fate.
"Where is he now?" his voice practically trembled with anticipation. "When can I meet him?"
Suddenly, the temperature around them dropped drastically. A cold mist began to rise from the ground then, he heard it---a voice.
"I'm here."
He whipped his head around, trying to locate the source of the voice then, through the thickening mist, a figure emerged, the air itself twisting around him like a living shroud.
Mist was tall and lean, with an air of quiet confidence. His ash gray hair was slightly messy, with a few strands falling over his sharp pink eyes that gleamed with playful mischief. But beneath that, there was a clear sense of strength and determination.
He wore a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly. A dark charcoal shirt rested beneath the jacket, slightly unbuttoned. Around his neck hung a silver pendant with the Tiger Squad insignia.
Strapped to his back was a long silver sword. Even in his refined suit, Mist looked every bit like a skilled and dangerous fighter.
Before Krad could ask what he meant, Mist suddenly stepped forward. His face lit up, his sharp grin turning absurdly charming or at least, he probably thought it was.
"Miss Vice," Mist practically purred, his voice dripping with exaggerated admiration. "Still as radiant as ever. Truly, a goddess gracing this humble realm."
Vice remained utterly unimpressed, her eyes narrowing.
"And that figure." Mist let out a dramatic sigh, his hand resting over his heart. "The curves of divinity itself. One could only dream to be blessed by such---"
"Don't," Drugo warned, but Mist ignored him.
In one bold movement, Mist opened his arms wide. "Come here, my dearest Vice! Let this mere mortal embrace the very essence of beauty!"
He lunged forward, aiming to wrap her in what was probably intended to be a romantic hug.
KRAK!
A swift punch connected to the top of Mist's head with a satisfying crack. His body jolted, his hair flying in all directions as Vice's knuckles left a visible dent in his pride.
Mist stumbled, clutching his head.
"Agh! Wh-What was that for?"
"For being an idiot," Vice deadpanned, shaking out her hand like she hadn't just delivered a punch that could crumble stone.
"Ow…" Mist whimpered dramatically, rubbing the growing bump. "You didn't have to hit me that hard!"
"That was the light version," Vice said with a smirk.
Still rubbing his head, Mist let out an exaggerated sigh. "You know, Miss Vice, one day you'll see my charm for what it is."
"I see it clearly," Vice said dryly. "And I'm still not impressed."
Krad grinned. "I think I like this guy."
"Of course you do," Drugo muttered.
Despite the ridiculous introduction, Mist's presence brought a strange sense of reassurance. There was a dangerous energy beneath his playful facade. And if Vice trusted him enough to recommend him, then Krad knew this training was going to be anything but ordinary.
"Alright," Krad said, determination glowing in his eyes. "I need you to train me. Teach me everything you kno---"
Before Krad could even finish his sentence, Mist's fist connected with his face.
Thwack!
Krad stumbled backward, his vision spinning as pain exploded through his cheek. The impact was so sudden, so completely unexpected, that his brain barely registered it until he was already on the ground, clutching his face.
"What the hell?!" Krad sputtered, glaring up at Mist.
Mist stood over him, a satisfied grin curling his lips. He casually adjusted his suit, the glint of his silver sword visible behind him. "Too slow," he teased, his voice low and amused.
"You... you just punched me!" Krad growled, pushing himself up. His cheek throbbed, but his pride hurt more.
Mist tilted his head with mock innocence. "I thought you wanted me to train you. Lesson one: Never drop your guard." He gave a light chuckle, his pink eyes gleaming. "You never know when your opponent will strike."
Vice smirked from the sidelines, clearly entertained. "I told you he was the best."
Mist's grin lingered as Krad rubbed his sore cheek, his pointed ears twitching in annoyance. "Okay, okay, I get it. Training means pain. Lesson learned."
Mist's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Good. Because if you're serious about taking on Liyab and the Gods, you'll need to learn a lot faster than that."
"But that doesn't mean you have to break my face on day one!" Krad shot back, glaring.
Mist chuckled. "Consider it a warm-up." He turned his attention to Hanan, his expression softening. "That said, before we leave... I need your permission."
Hanan blinked. "Permission?"
Mist nodded. "We're using the Ruined Castle of your former kingdom as a training ground." His voice lowered, the playful tone fading. "The very place where it all began. It's not just some wreck of stone and rubble. It still holds the weight of its past."
Krad's stomach tightened. The castle. The one Hanan had mentioned. The kingdom shattered by the Goblin Lord Damos. That wasn't just a backdrop, it was a scar on her soul.
Hanan's eyes flickered with unspoken memories. "The castle…"
"We believe it's the best choice," Mist continued, his voice steady but respectful. "It's isolated. The remnants of the magical wards will make it nearly impossible for others to sense us. Plus, if Krad loses control over the Moon Eater's mark..." His gaze darkened. "The damage will be contained."
Hanan's hands clenched on her lap. "The castle… it was once my home."
No one spoke. Even Drugo, who had been grumbling moments ago, remained silent.
"But," Hanan whispered, her voice trembling, "it's not that place anymore. The kingdom we loved is gone. What remains... are only ruins and ashes."
Krad opened his mouth to speak, but Hanan shook her head. "If it can be used for something good. If it can help Master Krad grow strong enough to stand against them... then I have no objections."
Her resolve was clear, though the sadness never left her gaze.
"Thank you," Mist said sincerely, bowing slightly. "We leave at once."
"Wait, already?!" Krad yelped, still nursing his bruised face. "I haven't even digested!"
Mist smirked. "That's the spirit. Nothing like a little motion to aid digestion."
"And by 'motion,' you mean throwing me around like a ragdoll, don't you?" Krad muttered.
Vice snickered. "You catch on quickly."
Drugo gave Krad a solid pat on the back, nearly knocking the air from his lungs. "Try not to die, idiot. And if you do, don't haunt my restaurant."
"Noted," he wheezed.