"If it's a fight you want, I can give you a good time."
Sirus chuckled, but his mirth faded as his expression hardened.
He drew in a sharp breath and raised his fists—left forward, right near his chin, elbows slightly flared. His left foot dragged back, right foot steady beneath him. A subtle bounce took over his stance. Kickboxer's posture, light and poised, but something in his eyes flickered with restraint.
'I can't go all out. My body isn't ready for the full weight of a kickboxer's brutality. Too agile. Too wild. I'll have to fight like a boxer instead.'
He cursed under his breath. The stance remained the same, but he locked his legs down—no kicks, only fists.
The creatures before him tilted their heads in eerie confusion. In their time, they'd never seen a humanoid move this way. But it mattered little. Their minds were simple: kill, protect, consume.
The creature on the far right slammed her hoof into the earth, lowered her head, and charged—horns forward, intent to impale.
Sirus didn't flinch. He waited.
Then he moved.
A sharp roll to the left barely saved him from being skewered. As he sprang to his feet, the creature crashed into a tree, horns embedding deep in the bark. With a calculated breath, Sirus bent low, aimed just under the ribcage—where the heart should be.
He twisted his core, funneled all his weight into a single upward strike—an uppercut reinforced by fury. A crack rang out.
He leapt back.
The beast thrashed, stuck and howling, but not falling. No fatal damage. As expected.
'Too much muscle—even the belly's protected. It's like punching armor. Damn it... this body can't do damage like this.'
He glanced down. Blood smeared his fists. His own.
'And these claws—I can't box without tearing myself apart.'
With a growl, he tensed his fingers, claws extended. If fists failed him, then he'd get savage.
The creature ripped free from the tree, shaking bark and blood into the air. She pawed the ground again, tasted the blood in her mouth—then faltered. Her knees buckled. She slammed to the ground.
Sirus's eyes widened. Then a grin curled at the edge of his mouth.
'If I can bring one down, I can take the others. But... if they weren't here, I'd already have carved her throat out.'
The other two beasts stared in silent shock. Intelligent eyes, not bestial. They understood. Not mindless predators—thinking beings. That made them more dangerous.
Then the largest one roared.
Sirus snapped back into focus.
The alpha beast slammed its hoof into the Ozbark and charged. Sirus adjusted his stance—but this one was fast, much faster.
Before he could jump, pain erupted in his side. The horn had stabbed deep into his right abdomen. No organs hit, but the pain was blinding. Blood sprayed from his mouth onto the beast's face.
It roared with triumph.
Then it rammed him into a tree.
Still impaled, Sirus clawed at its face. His sharp claws cut through flesh and muscle. Screams filled the forest as blood sprayed in arcs. Soon, Sirus was drenched in gore, red soaking his torso and face.
Blinded and enraged, the beast thrashed wildly—and slammed into its injured companion.
A sickening crack.
Sirus was thrown free, colliding hard with a tree. He screamed as pain coursed through him, pitch-black blood oozing down his side, soaking the roots and grass in death.
He curled in agony. But in that torment, he felt alive.
He laughed.
Uncontrolled, unhinged laughter. His mana surged—a tornado of blue, laced with violent crimson. His wounds, unknowingly, closed.
He rose—slowly, like a monster from a nightmare—leaning on the tree for support, laughing louder.
Then silence.
A grin stretched across his face.
He dragged one foot forward and hunched low—then bolted. Straight toward the beast that had impaled him. In a single bound, he leapt three meters into the air. Muscles coiled. Eyes gleaming.
The creature, still roaring in pain, hadn't noticed its fallen comrade crushed beneath its own weight. It howled to the sky—then collapsed, stirring a cloud of dirt and death.
Sirus landed on its back and tore. Claw after claw, flesh flew. Blood splattered across the trees. The air stank of violence.
The beast rolled in desperation, finally throwing Sirus off—but not before its side was ripped wide open, entrails spilling in steaming coils.
Sirus slammed into another tree and blacked out.
Moments passed.
He opened his eyes. Everything was red. The trees. The earth. The sky, as if blushing in horror.
Entrails dangled from branches. One beast lay gutted, another trampled to pulp.
He tried to remember. He couldn't. Only fragments remained.
He looked around for the third beast and the small one—gone.
"What the fuck... happened to me?"
He stared at his hands—shaking, covered in blood and torn flesh. Bits of skin clung to his claws.
"C-calm down, Sirus." His legs trembled. His stomach growled. "Right... food."
He stood before the carnage. One beast was utterly ruined. The other, head crushed but body intact. He knelt beside it and, with his claws, severed the head.
Then, in silence, he dragged the corpse toward the river.