The forest was still trembling from the echoes of clashing steel when Erry Tobock finally realized two things at once:
First, that the girl in his arms—soft, warm, and dangerously light—had gone completely limp.
Second, that every beastman soldier still capable of moving was now staring directly at him.
Not at the dead bandit he had cut in half.
Not at the still-burning caravan wagon behind him.
But at him.
And more specifically, at the way Lyra's unconscious form rested against his chest, her single fluffy tail draped over his arm.
Erry blinked.
"…This looks bad," he muttered to himself.
The understatement of the century.
A low growl came from the nearest soldier, a feline beastman with mottled grey fur and a broken spear clenched in his fist.
"Unhand the princess, human."
Erry stiffened. Princess?
He looked down at Lyra—the girl he assumed was just an aristocrat or maybe some important figure in the caravan. A princess? That… complicated things.
He shifted her weight carefully, trying not to jostle her weak breathing.
"She fainted," Erry said, voice calm, "and she has a fever. I didn't do anything to her. She fell toward me when—"
"When you slaughtered the scout in a single swing?" another soldier snarled. "Yes. We noticed."
Erry opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed.
"…Okay, fair point. But he attacked me first."
The soldiers exchanged looks, their ears flicking with distrust. Even the wind seemed to still, as though the forest itself was watching.
The beastmen who had been unconscious began to stir, and those kneeling managed to stand. Several hissed when they saw Erry, tails puffed in alarm.
Only one man seemed composed.
Killu Thornclaw—General of Felinte Dominion's border guard, and the highest-ranking beastman present—stepped forward. His fur was a dull black, streaked with silver scars. His armor was dented, clawed, and splattered with blood from the earlier ambush.
His yellow eyes locked onto Erry.
"You are the outsider who appeared in the middle of our defensive route," Killu said, voice cold. "State your purpose."
Erry gave a simple answer. "Walking home."
A long silence.
"…Home," Killu repeated, slowly. "You expect us to believe that an human wandered into our territory by accident?"
Erry sighed internally.
Not my best day.
He shifted Lyra again, making sure she stayed steady in his arms. Her tail twitched faintly, but she didn't wake.
"I didn't cross your border. The caravan did," Erry replied. "And then the bandits attacked. I was nearby. I helped. That's all."
"You 'helped'," one soldier spat, "by holding our princess like some sort of—"
"She fell!" Erry snapped, temper flaring. "Do you think I enjoy carrying an unconscious stranger through smoke and blood?!"
The soldiers flinched at his raised voice, several drawing weapons—but Killu lifted a hand, and they froze instantly.
Erry exhaled sharply.
"…Look. She's burning up. You should get her treated. At this rate she won't last long."
Those words hit harder than any swing of his sword.
Every beastman's ears folded back, and a silent dread spread among them. Erry could practically taste their fear.
For the first time since he met them, their anger wasn't directed at him.
Killu stepped closer, placing one clawed hand on Lyra's forehead. His jaw tightened—she was scorching hot.
"We are heading back to Felinte Dominion," Killu said without hesitation. "And you, human… you are coming with us."
Erry frowned. "I'd rather not."
A hundred blades shifted in unison.
Even Erry had to admit that was an effective argument.
"You will be questioned," Killu continued. "We need to know whether this ambush was coordinated with your involvement."
Erry stared. "What part of my face looks like I'm working with bandits?"
"Your existence," one soldier muttered.
Erry dragged his hand down his face.
"…This is ridiculous."
"Regardless," Killu said, "you saved the princess. For that, your execution is postponed."
"Fantastic," Erry deadpanned. "I feel very honored."
"We did not say honor was required," Killu replied dryly.
Erry fought the urge to groan. But Lyra's small fingers curled slightly against his tunic—maybe unconscious reflex, maybe pain. That decided it.
He couldn't leave her like this.
Even if she was a stranger.
Even if her people were glaring daggers at him.
"…Fine," Erry muttered. "Take me with you. But someone needs to check her condition soon."
"It will be done," Killu said.
Erry still didn't like it, but he nodded.
Then the soldiers closed in around him—forming a tense, suspicious ring.
A very uncomfortable escort.
Erry had been glared at before.
By competitors at guild tournaments.
By nobles judging his posture.
By women—many women—judging his inability to smile correctly.
But this?
This was next-level hatred.
Every beastman in the escort marched with their weapons half-raised, eyes locked on him as though he might snap someone's neck any second. Erry walked in silence, Lyra still sleeping against him, her breathing shallow.
Her furred ears twitched occasionally, trembling from fever.
He adjusted his arms carefully.
He had carried heavy boulders before.
He had carried injured teammates.
But carrying someone so… fragile was oddly unsettling.
Her weight felt wrong—too little.
Her breaths were uneven.
And worse, her body temperature kept rising.
Erry's steps slowed.
"Killu," he said, keeping his voice steady. "If we don't get her help within a few hours—"
"We are moving as fast as we can," Killu snapped, though there was worry in his tone. "The princess's condition has been unstable for months."
Erry raised a brow.
"Months?"
Killu didn't answer.
Curiosity prickled at Erry, but he didn't press. Beastman politics weren't his concern. He only needed to stay alive long enough to explain the misunderstanding and go home.
Preferably without being stabbed.
Hours passed.
The forest gradually thinned, replaced by towering stone pillars shaped like giant claw marks—Felinte Dominion's border markers.
Beastman guards stationed there reacted instantly, weapons drawn when they saw Erry. But Killu barked orders, and they relented, albeit reluctantly.
Felinte Dominion's territory felt… different.
The air heavier.
The earth warmer.
Even the wind carried a sharp, predatory edge.
Erry didn't show it, but his instincts were buzzing. He could feel eyes on him from treetops, rooftops, the shadows beyond the walls.
Every guard seemed to be evaluating him.
Judging him.
Deciding whether he deserved to exist here.
I hate attention, he thought miserably.
One guard whispered loudly enough for Erry to hear:
"Why is a human holding the princess? That's filthy."
Erry's jaw clenched.
Another murmured,
"Beast gods forbid she becomes tainted by human touch."
He inhaled slowly. "I will pretend I didn't hear that."
"You will pretend nothing," Killu said sharply. "Do not engage."
"Wasn't planning to," Erry muttered.
But he already regretted agreeing to come.
---
By the time the capital came into view, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky with streaks of orange and gold.
Felinte Dominion's palace rose from the center like a mountain of carved obsidian—sharp, imposing, and distinctly beastman. Massive banners depicting a three-tailed feline fluttered above the gates.
Erry paused when he saw them.
Three tails.
Lyra only had one.
He had noticed earlier but assumed it was a personal trait—not something deeply tied to status.
Now he understood the soldiers' looks.
The bitterness in their whispers.
The uneasy way they saw her.
In a kingdom where tails represented strength, blessing, lineage…
She had only one.
The realization settled uncomfortably in his stomach.
"Move," Killu ordered.
Erry stepped forward.
The gates opened with a deep rumble—revealing rows of beastman citizens standing along the pathway, some injured soldiers carried on stretchers behind the escort.
But when the crowd saw Erry…
Rage.
Shock.
Disgust.
It hit him like a physical force.
Shouts erupted immediately.
"Why is a human here?!"
"Unacceptable!"
"He's carrying a princess?!"
"Put her down, outsider!"
"He has no right!"
Erry kept walking, expression unreadable, though his grip on Lyra tightened to protect her from any sudden crowd movement.
The soldiers around him snarled back at the citizens, forming a tighter barrier.
Killu growled commands:
"Stand back! This human is under my authority. He is not to be harmed!"
That only inflamed the crowd more.
Erry muttered, "…This is the worst welcoming parade I've ever had."
Lyra stirred faintly at the noise, her fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic—but she didn't wake.
He swallowed.
Her breathing was even worse now.
They needed to get her inside.
Killu must have noticed too. "General physician is waiting. Hurry."
Erry moved faster.
Each step echoed through the palace's entrance hall.
Each breath of Lyra sounded weaker.
And each pair of beastman eyes tracking him burned with the unspoken question:
Why is a human holding our princess?
When they finally reached the inner gates leading to the royal wing, Killu gestured for Erry to stop.
"This is as far as you go."
Erry hesitated. He didn't want to hand Lyra over to strangers—especially ones who clearly hated her almost as much as they hated him.
But he had no choice.
A group of beastman healers rushed forward.
One, an older catwoman with steady hands, bowed slightly to Killu before speaking.
"Her condition… It has worsened again."
Erry's heart tightened.
Again?
What the hell was wrong with her?
Killu spoke. "Treat her. Immediately."
"Yes, General."
Then she turned to Erry, clearly uncomfortable.
"Human… please place her on the stretcher."
Erry looked at Lyra one last time—her face pale, sweat dampening her dark hair. Her ears drooped weakly.
"…Take good care of her," he said softly.
The healer nodded, surprised by his gentle tone.
Erry hesitated—just for a second—before laying Lyra down.
Her fingers, still curled around his tunic, slipped away.
A strange tightness gripped Erry's chest.
That was unexpected.
He stepped back as the healers lifted her and rushed deeper into the palace.
Without her weight in his arms, Erry felt oddly… empty.
Killu's voice broke the moment.
"You will come with me."
Erry's brows rose. "Interrogation this soon?"
"No," Killu replied. "You will be kept under guard until the council decides your fate."
"Oh good," Erry muttered. "I was worried I wouldn't get the full hospitality experience."
"Do not be sarcastic."
"Trust me, General," Erry said calmly. "If I was being sarcastic, you'd know."
Killu's eye twitched. Just slightly.
Probably the closest thing to amusement Erry would ever get from him.
Guards formed a circle around Erry once more.
As they escorted him deeper into the palace—toward confinement, questioning, and who knew what else—Erry cast one final glance toward the hall where Lyra had disappeared.