Ayu's head snapped around, eyes darting—she didn't need long.

There he was. Standing still, back straight, posture calm.

The White Wolf of the West. Makoh.

Not a sound passed through the crowd. Every beastman present bowed low, heads lowered with reverence burning in their eyes. Even Eryx—lips tight—dipped his head without a word.

Grahn's eyes widened, his jaw clenched tight. "Mako… there is no—"

"It's been a long time since I shared the full moon with others," Makoh said, his gaze tilted to the sky. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried like stone through still air. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze to meet Eryx's. "How is Hoki?"

"He is well, Grandmaster," Eryx said with quiet respect. "He sends his regards."

"Does he?" Makoh smiled, soft but unreadable.

He then looked at Ayu briefly before focusing on Grahn. "Mahrji, please take care of Grahn."

Mahrji immediately nodded several times in a row. "Thank you, Makoh. Thank you."

"Makoh…" Grahn muttered as Mahrji pulled him back. He locked eyes with him, but neither said another word.

"Well then—" Makoh began, but his gaze suddenly shifted, narrowing toward the distance.

The others followed his eyes. Ayu too—and her own eyes widened as she noticed smoke coming from… from her tent!

She handed Grahn off fully to Mahrji, nodded once in apology to her master, and took off running. On the way, she spotted Niria, her face pale and worried.

Ayu didn't even stop. She sprinted harder—and—

"Whew."

A sharp exhale hissed like steam just as she skidded to a stop in front of her tent.

And there, standing drenched in sweat, covered in black grime, smoke rising off his skin was—

"Alonso?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, surprise flashing in his eyes for a brief second before he gave her a refreshing smile. "Sorry for the trouble."

"You… what the—"

"Oh, this? Yeah, maybe speedrunning the Second Body State wasn't the cleanest move, but damn does it feel good," he said, stretching his arms, muscles taut and defined in the firelight. "You wouldn't happen to have a bucket of water nearby, would you? I could really use a—"

Ayu smiled.

It was definitely him—not whatever had taken over before.

This was the Alonso she knew.

"I'm glad you're back," she sent through a soft pulse. "But keep quiet. The ceremony's still going. It's... tense out there."

"Oh, the full moon thing, huh? What's it about?" Alonso asked as he glanced toward the sounds in the distance. He frowned slightly. "Feels more like a funeral than a festival."

"I'll tell you now. Just shake that off and follow me. An important fight is about to happen. I have to be there."

Alonso nodded, sensing the shift in her tone. No more jokes.

He focused, vibrating his body at a high frequency. The sweat and black residue flung off him, scattered by the inertia. Then, he magnetized the blades still inside the tent—both shot toward him, and he sheathed them without a word.

Ayu gave a sharp nod, and they headed off together.

As they approached, Makoh's gaze—sharp and unreadable—locked on them.

Alonso felt it. Quiet, calm... but deep. He returned the stare with a respectful nod.

"So… what's happening?" he asked as they walked toward the center.

His eyes wandered to the strangers—the scaled ones with ridged features and saurian builds. Some of the villagers were similar, but these were clearly something else. From another tribe?

"It's quicker if I show you."

She sent a pulse—images, impressions, moments from the fights, the blood, the losses, the escalating stakes…

Alonso processed it quickly, eyes widening in surprise—then narrowing in thought.

When he finished, he raised his gaze and locked eyes with Eryx. The lizard didn't hold it long—barely spared him a glance before looking elsewhere, uninterested.

"So this Eryx is the bad guy?"

"Well… yeah. An ultimate piece of shit. But Master will put that little lizard where he belongs."

"Sounds cool, but…" Alonso's tone shifted—casual, but sharp. "Makoh stepping in like this? It's gonna look bad for your side either way. That old beast Grahn looked ready to die over it—like, 'offer his own life' level pissed."

"Yes…"

"So… what if I fight him instead?"

Ayu stopped mid-step. Her head snapped toward him. "You should take a rest. Your head's still not right."

Alonso chuckled. "Hey, I'm fine. Really. Just saying—why go through all this disrespectful shit if I can take the lizard down and wrap it all up nice and clean?"

"Alonso, what the hell? You saw the visuals I sent. You—"

"About that… can you send me more frames from his fight with Grahn? There's something in his movement data I want to check—"

"Just stay calm, alright? Sit still and watch. And for god's sake, Eryx is even stronger than Grahn, and Grahn's a mid Third Stage."

"I don't even know what that means. Is that like... Third Body State?"

"Ugh—you woke up more annoying than usual." Ayu growled and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him toward the stage.

The conversation, though packed, had passed in only seconds. The others still waited—Makoh, standing calm, seemingly giving them time.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

When they arrived, Ayu bowed low. "Apologies, Master."

Makoh gave her a soft smile.

But then—

"Grandmaster Makoh, and elders of the beastmen tribe," Alonso said, stepping forward without hesitation, voice clear and carried. "I would—"

"Alonso, the fuck are you do—"

"Ayu… trust me."

As Ayu felt that last pulse—words imbued with intent and something deeper—her body froze. That feeling… it was the same as back then. But this was Eryx! Even a commander-level Xok'al was weaker than Grahn, so how…?

And yet, she stopped herself.

She had doubted him once. And now… now it was just like back then.

And still… was it really possible? He'd seen the visuals—she had shown him everything, raw and unfiltered. Unless… whatever had taken over him before, that thing she couldn't explain—combined with a Second Body State—could he really…?

Her head spun. She wanted to speak, to stop him, to drag him back down to earth.

And yet… she stood still.

"I would like to participate in the seventh match."

Eryx tilted his head, a grin cutting across his scaled face as he barked out a mocking laugh. "Soft foot, go crawl back under your mate's skirt and shut the fu—"

"Someone as respected as Grandmaster Makoh has graced us with his presence and come to witness the full moon with us," Alonso said, voice loud and clear, cutting straight through, not even sparing a glance in Eryx's direction. "It would shame us all if we didn't give him a proper end to the festival."

Murmurs spread.

Witness?

Makoh was here to fight, wasn't he? What the hell was this soft-foot rambling about?

Alonso kept going, tone even. "As the rules dictate, the seventh fight must be held. One stronger than the last must step forward. But Grandmaster Makoh's presence is sacred. I don't believe we should tarnish tradition by forcing our elders to shed blood just to clean up after hot-headed younger warriors."

Makoh's eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

Alonso pressed on.

"I request—" he paused and locked eyes with the elders, one by one, "—to let me take on this lizard and spill his blood in the Moon Mother's name."

The air tightened.

The beastmen looked at one another, unsure what the hell to say. A few of them bared fangs, confused if this was a joke, an insult, or something else entirely.

Ayu opened her mouth again… and still couldn't speak.

Eryx, finally, took a slow step forward.

His eyes glinted. "Soft-foot bastard. You think this is a stage for you to bark and dance? You think your fancy words will change our rites? We don't delay sacred fights so that mates can show off for their females."

Gasps rippled around.

Ayu's eyes went red. "Say that again, lizard!"

Eryx shook his head, clearly annoyed.

Makoh remained silent as his gaze shifted toward Alonso.

And then—Alonso felt it.

A weight pressed down on him, like the world itself had turned hostile. Like the ground, the wind, the Earth itself wanted him broken. And yet… Alonso didn't look away. He held Makoh's gaze.

It lasted only an instant—but that moment sent a chill through every high-level beastman present. A few of the elders stiffened. Even Eryx's eyes sharpened, darting between Makoh and Alonso.

Ayu felt it too. That feeling…

"Very well," Makoh said suddenly, his tone calm, almost amused. "Alonso will fight in the seventh match."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Eyes widened. But none more than—

"Grandmaster, you cannot be—" Eryx started, but his voice cut off mid-sentence. His entire body froze, mouth slightly open, completely still.

A single drop of sweat trailed down his scaled jaw as he forced it down with a gulp.

Makoh said nothing more.

Eryx's jaw tightened. His fangs clenched. His pride burned.

Makoh hadn't even dignified him with a fight. Hadn't treated him as a warrior. No—he had dismissed him entirely. Threw him with a soft foot. An outsider. An insult!

His glare snapped toward Alonso. Rage boiled beneath his scales. What kind of farce was this? Did Makoh no longer care for tradition? For the Moon Mother?

He wanted to shout. To protest. To demand the rite be upheld.

But he remained silent.

After all, he knew. In the Plains, when a Grandmaster speaks… it's final.

He then stared at the soft foot. Very well then… you want me to kill your disciple's mate? Is that it, Makoh? Is this your game now? Temper her by spilling his blood? Am I just a tool now, a beast you prod when it suits your will?

The anger burned, deep and raw. He had come to face Makoh. Even knowing defeat was certain, the act alone would tarnish the old wolf's pride, return some honor to his master—Hoki—whose loss all those years ago had never healed. But now?

Now he had come for nothing.

But he would remember this.

He would make it known. Make it clear how he insulted the full moon festival. How he spat on tradition. And… he would give his disciple a memory she'd never forget. One that would burn itself into that girl's mind forever and break her completely.

Oh Makoh… not everything bends to your will. Not even the Moon Mother watches in silence forever.

Meanwhile, as Alonso stepped forward—

"Alonso, wait!" A pulse reached him. Ayu?

He glanced back, catching her rushing off without another word. He tilted his head, intrigued, ignoring the rising tension coming off Eryx like static.

Seconds later, Ayu returned—then tossed something at him.

Huh? What is—oh?

His waves picked it up before it landed.

He caught the bag, opened it, and blinked.

The skull of the commander-level Xok'al.

Gasps spread through the crowd as veterans caught sight of it.

"Isn't that—?"

"Yes... it is," one of the older warriors confirmed in a low voice.

Alonso stared into the hollow sockets of the skull, memories flashing back—Darius' memories.

Then he looked at Ayu, smiled, and said, "Thanks."

He tossed the skull high into the air—casual, almost playful.

For a moment, a ripple spread across the air. Barely noticeable. But it was there.

The skull came down—split neatly in two before it touched his palm. The orb dropped gently into his hand.

Stage 1 – 14.978%

Over 1.2%?! Damn…

His mind sharpened immediately. His nerves, senses, even muscle efficiency—all boosted with unnatural precision.

He closed his hand into a fist, then looked at Eryx. The lizard's eyes narrowed further, his aura hardening.

Maybe that was a bit much.

Still, Alonso kept walking, leaving behind the split halves of the Xok'al's skull, brain matter glistening beneath the clean, silent cut.

And then, he stepped past the seventh blood arc.

Silence held the village. Every eye followed him—elders, children, warriors still wrapped in bandages, and even a Grandmaster himself.

But Alonso felt no pressure.

His expression was calm, serious—out of respect for the tradition, for the weight of what this fight meant to the beastmen.

Yet beneath the surface… his pulse was quickening.

Not from fear.

From want.

The thick killing intent leaking from Eryx barely touched him. It was there, sharp and cold—but he didn't care.

Because something inside him wanted to feel it. Wanted to draw it closer.

He could sense it now—what he had touched, what he had become. That moment in the dark, that edge of instinct and precision, when his mind and body had blurred into something more.

And now, here in the sand and sweat and moonlight… he wanted to let it free.

His heart beat faster. His blood ran hotter.

He locked eyes with Eryx.

THUMB.

The drum echoed across the clearing.

Yes.

He wanted to test what he'd found.

THUMB. THUMB.

He wanted—

THUMB. THUMB. THUMB.

—to fight.

THUMB!

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