Meanwhile, on the other side—deep inside the Pushpjheel Sarai, where everyone had long drifted into sleep...
Agnira slipped out of bed without waking Jhumki.
Silently, she moved across the room, her steps light as air.
She unlatched the door with delicate precision, slipping past the guards stationed nearby. Using the carved wooden beams of the inn, she scaled the outer wall like a shadow.
And then—she was out.
She climbed a tall tree just beyond the boundary of the sarai (Inn), perching herself high among the branches. From there, she could see the faint glow of oil lamps still flickering in distant corridors of the inn.
Her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, darting from one dark silhouette to another, calculating.
Without hesitation, she reached to her leather belt and tucked her flute tightly into its loop.
The wind brushed against her face as she adjusted her rugged leather boots, bracing herself.
Then—with the force of a storm—she leapt down and bolted toward the forest.
There was a wild determination in her eyes.
A silent fire.
A race that had no finish line.
And she wasn't going to stop.
In the heart of the jungle, she leapt over two massive stones, her body swaying with the branches she brushed past.
And then—right there, surrounded by the wild silence—she began to dance.
A furious, desperate dance.
Her movements were raw, chaotic, driven by something ancient and unsettled within her.
"I need to understand my powers, "she thought, teeth clenched.
"I need to know what truly lives inside me. —I can't claim the power without truly awakening it. Without knowing it."
"What exactly happened that day… the moment my powers awakened? I must solve this puzzle myself. "
"Agnira… Agnira… trusting anyone else would only mean betraying myself. What belongs to me, no one can ever take away. "
"One thing is clear—Tribe Mother is hiding much from me. And these powers… these powers within me are far too strong. But what are they, truly?"
"I have to stir it again. Force it to rise."
She spun, stomped, arched her body to the rhythm of something only she could hear.
But no matter how violently she moved, how much fire she poured into each step—
Nothing.
Nothing happened.
"Since childhood, I have never learned how to bow or accept defeat. Where other children were given pity as charity, I never once took it—I always earned my way. Compared to my stubborn will, this riddle is nothing. "
Her own thoughts only fueled her fire, driving her determination higher and higher.
Breathing hard, she let out a frustrated growl and climbed up onto a tree branch, resting against the bark with her head tilted back.
That's when she saw them.
In the middle of the jungle clearing—barely visible through the foliage—stood a few tents.
And outside them, guarding silently in the dark, were men in black cloaks.
Her brows furrowed sharply.
"What's going on here?"
"All the guests were supposed to be staying at the sarai (Inn)... then what is this?"
She narrowed her eyes, her body still.
Leaping high, she landed on the branch of a tree near the tents.
"My mood is ruined… I'll need some entertainment. Well then, get ready," she muttered to herself.
She pulls out a blow-arrow from the other side of her leather belt and, crouching low, blows it sharply toward the necks of two guards standing outside. Both collapse silently to the ground, unconscious. She pull her cap down and swiftly drops down, ran her hand over both of them, checking their unconsciousness.
Then, staying close to the ground, she begins circling the tents from behind, inspecting them carefully.
Just then—footsteps.
More guards arrive.
They spot her.
Immediately, they begin whistling sharply.
"Now the real fun begins," she smirked, muttering under her breath as she noticed the guards spreading out, their senses sharp and alert.
She dashed forward, leaping from tent to tent, crawling swiftly across the sloped roofs. Spotting an opening, she dove into one of the tents.
But suddenly—
Whack.
A heavy blow crashed against her head.
--
Agnira hung unconscious in a netted basket, suspended mid-air inside a large tent. Two similar baskets swayed nearby—one holding Inara, the other a strikingly handsome young man dressed in a white coat embroidered with golden patterns, paired with fitted black pants that gave him the regal elegance of a royal.
"Hey… can you hear me?" Inara whispered urgently.
"Where did they capture you from? And how can you sleep like that in such a weird position?"
The boy cracked open one eye, replying dryly,
"The same way you're managing to ask such ridiculous questions in a life-threatening situation." His iris gleamed deep blue, a thin vertical black slit cutting through it—the unmistakable mark of a predator soulbeast.
Inara huffed. "Well, someone has to ask the smart questions."
"Then try using your brain," he muttered. "Ask her after she wakes up. That's when answers usually happen."
Inara leaned forward in her swaying basket, eyes wide.
"Then why aren't you doing anything? Wake her up! Who knows what they're planning to do with us?"
"Shut your mouth and sit still," the boy snapped. "Or they'll perform your last rites first."
Then he shut his eyes again.
Inara scowled, plucking a decorative feather pin from her hair and tossing it at him.
"Hey! Wake up! Why are you sleeping now of all times?!"
"Can you shut up already?" he growled, white ears twitching through his long silver hair, still not bothering to open his eyes.
"Nope," Inara said with a grin.
"You're from the Cat Clan, right? Why don't you slice these ropes with your shiny little claws?"
His predator's blue eyes snapped open with a piercing glare, and in an instant his hand transformed into a white-furred claw tipped with razor-sharp nails. Lifting it slightly toward her, he growled,
"Do my claws look like they belong to a house cat?"
Inara smirked. "Well, if I don't call a cat a cat, should I call it a lion?"
The boy growled again, annoyed. With a flick of his wrist, he slashed at the ropes—but they didn't even scratch.
Inara crossed her arms, mock-serious. "Wow. What kind of cat are you?"
"I am NOT a CAT!"
"My name is Shauraya—not 'hey' or 'not a cat,'" he snapped, fully awake now.
"Well, you have a soul beast too, don't you? Then why don't you try, Miss Cinderella?"
Meanwhile, Agnira remained trapped in a surreal dream. Flames blazed around her—crimson, orange, and mysterious hues of purple and pink—chasing her from all sides. Panicked, she ran breathless, her eyes flicking with frustration.
Without warning, blue flames erupted from the folds of her robe, radiating outward in a glowing burst. Her body jerked slightly in reality. Eyes snapping open, electric blue and burning with energy, a tiny spark of blue fire flickered from her fingertips.
Inara gasped. "You're awake!"
Agnira blinked, feeling the familiar tingle in her eyes. She grabbed a small mirror from her belt to check her reflection—her eyes had shifted again.
Her gaze fell on the burnt strands of the net basket. "Wait—your net… how did you burn through it?"
Instinctively, Agnira pulled her hood lower, hiding her glowing eyes. She poured a vial's contents over the remainder of the net. With a soft hiss, the webbing caught fire and dissolved completely.
Inara looked thrilled. Shauraya, however, was stunned into silence.
Agnira landed softly, stepping out of the wrecked trap. "Learn to help yourself," she said, not turning back.
Shauraya's voice broke the silence. "Then tell me the price to escape. Whatever it is—I'll pay it."
"Smart choice," Agnira replied, smirking faintly. "Close your eyes."
Inara frowned. "Why?"
"If you want to get out alive, just keep them shut for a minute. These webs are fused with spider soul beasts. Visual contact can trigger a reaction."
They obeyed. Agnira sprinkled another vial over their woven cages. The traps hissed, igniting briefly before collapsing.
The two climbed out. Inara's movements were slightly loud.
"What's the price?" Shauraya asked again.
Agnira pulled her hood lower. "You'll find out later. First—we escape."
Guards burst into the tent.
Agnira exhaled sharply. "Too bad for them. They shouldn't have come near me."
Inara drew her silver peacock blades, ready for battle. Shauraya extended his claws like a white lion preparing to pounce.
Agnira assessed them. "White Peacock and Lion. Not bad."
Without warning, she grabbed the severed webbing and hurled it at the guards, entangling their necks. With a swift leap, she yanked the strands tight and spun mid-air, kicking them down in one clean strike.
Inara slashed through the next wave of guards gracefully yet lethally, while Shauraya tore through with precise, brutal force.
All three ascended to the top of the tent, standing tall above the chaos.
Hound beast souls surrounded them from all sides. More assassins appeared.
Agnira smirked. "Huh… looks like tonight, all the practice will finally pay off. '
"Listen—both of you do know how to fight, right? Because I'm not saving anyone this time."
Shauraya cracked his neck. "Seems like you haven't seen what a real lion's claws look like."
Inara flipped her blades, spreading her wings. "And I'm no delicate little bird either."
"Alright, let's do this!"
All three charged. Agnira drew her sword from beneath her cloak, and they tore through the enemy ranks like lightning. The black-cloaked ones, however, were skilled—fast, sharp, and relentless.
Inara's eyes narrowed. Spotting a black-clad enemy creeping up behind Agnira, she flung a blade at his throat. "Watch out!" she called, alerting Agnira just in time.
The fight grew brutal. Agnira's blade clashed, her movements sharp but slowing—wounded. Her hood slipped back, revealing storm-blue eyes pulsing with raw, untamed elemental energy.
Inara froze. Shauraya saw it too. Those blue glowing eyes.
Agnira didn't respond. She pulled her hood back down and surged forward, ignoring the remark.
Despite heavy resistance and injuries mounting, a Dove Soul Beast descended from above, surrounded by a green circular aura.
All three fixed their eyes on it. "Fourth level of the Legends," they whispered together.
These colored circular auras are possessed by all soul beasts and soul skills.
Normally, spiritual powers carry a brown circular aura, while those who practice fighting possess the Legend Aura. Seven levels exist, each represented by a rainbow-colored aura:
violet (1), indigo (2), blue (3), green (4)… and the rare red aura—found only in kings, queens, or highly skilled aged legends.
Inara's anger flared. Her purple eyes closed and reopened, shining with violet circular aura. "This pretty face of yours—I swear it'll be smashed to pieces."
The Dove girl danced through the air, dodging Inara's blades effortlessly. Summoning a fierce gust, she created a small storm.
The gleam of Shauraya's claws matched his incredible speed, stunning surrounding assassins as he surged toward the dove.
Inara and Shauraya attacked together—but in a single instant, the Dove spread her wings with full force, hurling them away.
In a blink, she grabbed both Shauraya and Inara by the neck, lifting them off the ground.
Agnira, bleeding and battered, continued fighting the black-cloaked ones. She tossed strange powder at them, and as they stumbled and coughed, she struck them down with brutal force.
Then, spinning, she lunged at the Dove Soul Beast with her spinning blades. "I don't owe anyone a damn thing!" she yelled, slashing both its hands.
Wounded, the Dove screeched and released them.
Inara and Shauraya pounced immediately, her blade gleaming and his claws raking.
To be continued.....