Krios, commander of Medusa's army—a force powerful enough to reduce Velmor to ruins before sunset—stood before what passed as Velmor's military.
A ragged, half-starved collection of farmers, merchants, and retired soldiers standing in what could barely be called formation.
Krios exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
"This is ridiculous."
His golden eyes swept across the pitiful ranks. Some had weapons too rusted to be effective, others held wooden staffs instead of swords.
But what truly irritated him—
"There seem to be fewer people today."
The words hung in the air. No one answered.
Then—
"A-Ah… actually, Krios…" a hesitant voice emerged from the group.
A young soldier stepped forward, visibly uneasy. "Three of our men were heavily injured, and two others are tending to them."
Krios' expression darkened.
"Heavily injured?" His voice came out sharper than intended.
Another soldier stepped forward, jaw tight, fists clenched. His uniform was torn and dirt-streaked.
"The Dori Tribe raided one of Velmor's villages last night." His voice tightened with anger. "Our men went to defend the people, but…" He hesitated. "They were outnumbered. Brutally attacked."
A cold silence settled over the camp.
Krios didn't move. Didn't speak.
But his golden irises burned.
"Take me to them."
***
The healing sanctuary smelled of herbs, incense, and blood. Dim torchlight flickered against stone walls, casting trembling shadows.
Krios entered, his gaze immediately locking onto the injured soldiers.
Three of them lay motionless on the stone beds. Their bodies wrapped in thick, glistening silver webs—the silk of the Aracel Spider, a creature whose threads carried potent healing properties.
By their beds, two exhausted soldiers sat, their eyes red-rimmed, their bodies tense with guilt and helplessness.
Krios stepped closer. His voice, though steady, carried an edge of restrained fury.
"How long until they recover?"
The shaman tending to them hesitated before responding. "A few days. The Aracel silk accelerates healing, but…" She met his gaze. "Their wounds were deep. They will live, but they won't be fighting anytime soon."
Krios' fingers curled into fists.
"Who are the Dori Tribe?" His voice dropped, the weight behind it making even the torches flicker.
Commander Daelus stepped forward, his battered armor reflecting the dim firelight.
"A bandit faction. They raid, burn villages, take whatever they can get their hands on." His jaw tightened. "Velmor has been struggling with them for years."
A bitter laugh came from another soldier.
"We've begged for help—mercenaries, warriors, even temple priests." His voice turned grim. "But the Dori always survives. Even witches failed to curse them into oblivion."
Krios' gaze flickered with something dangerous.
"Where do they hide?"
Daelus hesitated. Then—"A dense forest a few kilometers from here. They always retreat there after an attack."
Krios smirked.
"Then let's go. I've been wanting to meet them."
Something in his voice sent a chill down the soldiers' spines.
***
The entrance to the jungle loomed ahead, a wall of gnarled trees and impenetrable darkness. The thick scent of damp earth and decay clung to the air.
Behind him, the small squad of soldiers stood, shifting uneasily.
Krios raised a hand. "Stop."
Commander Daelus stiffened. "Krios, what are you—"
"I'm going alone."
Stunned silence.
Then—
"That's suicide!" Daelus nearly stumbled forward. "We should at least—"
Krios turned, flashing a mischievous, almost predatory grin.
"I am the Son of Medusa." His golden irises gleamed in the darkness. "What could possibly happen to me?"
Before anyone could argue—
He stepped into the shadows of the forest.
And disappeared.
The air changed instantly.
The moment he entered the jungle, the world became too quiet.
No wind. No rustling leaves. No distant animal calls.
Just—silence.
Krios moved like a shadow, his senses sharp, every sound amplified. His boots pressed into the damp earth, barely making a sound. The dense canopy above let in only thin slivers of light.
His golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
"Now…" He murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Where would a band of lowlife cowards be hiding?"
Then—
"And what will you do when you find them?"
Krios froze.
The voice was too close.
His hand immediately went for his blade.
But before he could react—
THWIP.
A sharp sting.
His breath hitched.
He reached for his neck—
A small dart was embedded in his skin.
His vision blurred. His limbs slackened.
"Poison?"
His body staggered backward, but his legs wouldn't move. His arms wouldn't respond.
Footsteps.
A figure emerged from the trees, shadowed, unreadable.
Krios' mouth opened—to curse, to fight back—
But darkness swallowed him whole.
The jungle was thick with shadows and silence. Moonlight barely pierced through the canopy, and the scent of damp earth clung to the air.
A large man dragged Krios' unconscious body through the undergrowth, his breath ragged from the effort.
In the clearing ahead, a throne of wood and skulls stood at the center of a dimly lit encampment. Seated atop it was a figure watching the scene unfold with mild amusement.
The man hauling Krios raised his voice, panting between words.
"Zora! This boy came into the jungle looking for us!"
The figure on the throne stood, stretching lazily before stepping forward. Zora's dark eyes glinted in the torchlight, his tone filled with disbelief.
"You mean this boy came here willingly? Looking for us?"
"Yes!"
Before another word could be spoken—
A voice interrupted.
"That's right."
Zora's entire body stiffened.
The man dragging Krios whirled around—only to find Krios standing right behind him, completely awake.
A slow grin spread across Krios' face.
"I was looking for you."
Zora and his men jumped back in shock.
The man who had poisoned him stumbled, his face pale.
"H-How is this possible?! I used the most powerful paralyzing poison on him!" The man's voice cracked, his hands trembling.
Krios patted the man's shoulder, grinning.
"Yeah, that must be frustrating, huh?" He sighed dramatically. "I know how it feels when your plans don't work."
The man flinched.
Krios tilted his head, his golden eyes gleaming.
"Actually, it's not your fault." His voice dropped lower, amusement laced with something more dangerous. "Trust me, man… it's just that venom and poison don't work on me."
His words hung in the air, making Zora's men uneasy.
Krios blinked—then rolled his eyes slightly, as if deep in thought.
"Almost."
Before anyone could ask what he meant—
WHIZZ!
An arrow shot towards his head.
In a single motion, Krios snatched it out of the air.
The jungle fell silent.
Holding the arrow between two fingers, he examined it briefly before snapping it in half with a flick.
Zora's men tensed.
Then—a figure lunged from behind, wrapping powerful arms around Krios' throat.
Krios staggered slightly, feeling the grip tighten.
The attacker's voice hissed in his ear. "Let's see how you fight when you can't breathe."
Krios let out a mock breathless chuckle. "Oh no, I can't breathe… whatever will I do?"
Then, his golden eyes gleamed.
He tapped his chest lazily, smirking. "You know, I can fight underwater."
His gaze locked onto his attacker, voice dropping to a deadly calm.
"Man… you really picked the wrong person to choke."
The attacker hesitated. "What?"
Before he could react—
Krios snapped his fist backward—a brutal, calculated punch aimed straight for his attacker's face.
A sickening CRACK.
The man flew backward, slamming into a tree trunk with a dull thud. He slumped over, dazed, blood trickling from his nose.
Krios brushed dust off his shoulder.
"Go check if he's still breathing," he said lazily to one of the Dori men. "I have a job for him."
The man nodded stiffly and ran to his fallen comrade.
The remaining Dori warriors hesitated.
Then—one lunged forward with a spear.
Krios dodged left.
Another attack. Right.
The spear swung for his legs—
Krios jumped, landing on a single hand before delivering a devastating kick to the attacker's jaw.
The man collapsed instantly.
Krios flipped back onto his feet, spreading his arms like a performer awaiting applause.
To his surprise—
The Dori warriors actually clapped.
Krios grinned. "Now that's the spirit."
Then—Zora stepped forward.
"You're a fighter, huh?" His voice was low, intrigued. He unsheathed two daggers. "Let's see how good you really are."
He hurled one dagger directly at Krios' chest.
Krios sidestepped effortlessly.
Then, in a blur of motion—Zora threw his second dagger, full force.
This one was different.
It was faster. More precise. Aiming directly for Krios' face.
And yet—
Just before the blade could reach him, Krios raised two fingers.
SNAP.
The dagger stopped midair—pinched between Krios' fingertips.
The jungle fell silent.
Krios twirled the blade idly, spinning it between his fingers like a toy.
Then—he flicked it back.
Zora tried to dodge—but failed.
The dagger whizzed past his face, slicing his ear cleanly. It embedded itself into a boulder behind him, the force cracking the stone.
Zora touched the side of his head, staring at the blood on his fingers.
His lips curled in fury.
"Monster."
Krios smiled.
"Nice to meet you." He raised a hand and waved cheerfully. "I'm Krios, the Son of Medusa."
***
Krios stood over the defeated Dori warriors.
Some were still groaning in pain, others sitting in formation like scolded children.
Krios sat lazily on a boulder, stretching.
"Alright," he began, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get to business."
The Dori men stared at him in disbelief.
"You all seem pretty strong."
No one answered.
"You all can fight."
Again, silence.
Then Krios smiled—too friendly, too sharp.
"Then from now on, you work for Velmor's army."
The Dori men exchanged stunned glances. Zora's jaw clenched.
No one agreed.
Krios sighed.
Then—he cracked his knuckles.
"If you refuse, I'll beat you all again." His voice was light, almost cheerful. "And I'll keep beating you until you agree to work for Velmor's army."
Silence.
Then—one Dori warrior coughed, then stood.
"I'll join Velmor's army."
Zora turned sharply, eyes narrowing. "What?!"
The man shrugged helplessly.
"Didn't you hear him? He'll beat us again. And he beats pretty hard. My bones are still trembling."
More murmurs.
Then—Zora turned away, coughing once.
"Fine. I'll join Velmor's army."
One by one, every Dori member nodded in agreement.