The Runic Alchemist

His thoughts were interrupted as the spell activated, draining over half of the queen's mana. The effect? A giant triangular laser shot forth at blinding speed, accompanied by an ear-splitting noise. It struck the purple tiger in dead center. To Damian's absolute shock, the tiger conjured a flimsy purple shield, yet the ancient beastman continued his speech uninterrupted. The tiger's form visibly melting by the second, and the urgency in the ancient beastman's voice mirrored its disintegration:

"You are not made for peace. Peace is a lie, a poison whispered by the weak to chain the strong. You are not weak. You are predators, forged in blood and battle. It is through conflict that we are made whole. They fear us because they know this truth: the beast cannot be tamed.

Do not forgive. Do not forget. Every slight, every lash, every insult—they are fuel for the fire that must never die. Hate them! Hate their walls, their flags, their smug faces that look down on us from their high places. They think they have won. They think they are safe. Prove them wrong. Let their victories crumble into ash as they realize they have sown the seeds of their destruction.

Let them hear our voices in the cities that sought to break us. Let them tremble at the sight of our banners rising. We will not just endure; we will thrive. Not merely survive, but conquer.

Let us rebuild—not as broken remnants, but as a united pack. Stand together, shoulder to shoulder, claw to claw, bound by bonds stronger than iron—bonds of blood, kinship, and purpose. We shall reclaim our place beneath the sun, our home beneath the stars.

This is your call from the home long forgotten, my children of the wild. Your destiny is not in the dust beneath the oppressor's heel but in the skies above. Reclaim it. Rise for home. Rise for kin. Rise for pride."

The laser burned through the tiger's flesh and bone, reducing it to ash. Until the end, the ancient beastman neither acknowledged the elves nor retaliated against their attack. His final cry echoed above the chaos as he melted under the scorching heat of the giant dark purple laser:

"For the fallen, For the pride. For home."

The laser obliterated everything—body, floor, and the ground beneath—creating a massive, gaping hole. All happened in a split second as the queen forcefully deactivated the terrifying runic tool, but the damage was done.

The gathered crowd was stunned and silent. Until someone very softly whispered,

"For the fallen, For the pride, for Home.."

The frustrated and angered faces of beastmen in the gathered mob, tears flowing down, started chanting the line again and again as if it would revive their fallen ancestor. The humans around them seemed confused and unsure as to what to do. The chant grew louder, transforming into a roar that surged like a tempest across the city.

The guards and knights broke out of their stupor, immediately taking charge and forcing people to stop shouting, fights broke, arguments got heated, some even swore directly at the royal family. The knights used force, no one instructed them what to do, no one knew what to do…

The beastmen mob even though barely 10-20% percent of the crowd started violently protesting, the hidden forces came to guard the royal family, at least those who had survived the aura pressure at least and were a bit farther away from them. With the help of other soldiers taking them back to the palace for immediate healing.

Despite the queen's booming command a few seconds later to cease hostilities, the damage had already spiraled beyond control. Beastmen lay bloodied at the gates of the elven divine tree—a symbol of the elves' pact to preserve life. Vidalia unleashed her aura, flying above the chaos, and fear temporarily subdued the beastmen's fury. The crowd fell into a tense silence punctuated by murmurs and hidden curses.

The beastmen were not the only ones who fell. Some of the guards did as well. And the obvious beastmen suspects who had done this in front of the whole crowd, were deemed too dangerous to leave alone and were captured. The silent murmuring of "For the fallen, For the pride, for Home.." still continued, in a hushed and saddened voice but they were still there. Even with Vidalia's aura making their knees shake, the beastmen paid their last respects to their fallen ancestor.

Hours later, the crowd dispersed. Knights and soldiers patrolled the streets, silencing whispers wherever they arose. The royal family and the nobles retreated to the safety of the palace and villas. The words of the ancient beastman faded into the cold, empty wind.

****

But that was not the end. Oh no.

For thousands of beastmen, this was the breaking point—a release of years of suppressed rage. For one individual, however, it became the sole purpose of his existence.

The last heir of the guardian beasts had fulfilled his role spectacularly, igniting a fire in the hearts of his people. From that fire rose Neo, the Shadow Reaver—the beastman's last hope or the final doom, fate had yet to decide which.

**** Explore more adventures at empire

Neo-The lost wolf of the beastmen valley had come to save Kazak, his village's last hope, beastmen people's last hope. But he was too late, he could not save him. But he wouldn't return empty-handed. No, he now carried a dream.

They had killed all of them, all his kin. They even killed Kazak, but all was not lost. Their ancestor had come to them in their time of need and showed him the path, fate had selected for him.

Neo knew his newly unlocked esper abilities clouded his thoughts with darkness. But his mind was clear as a mountain stream. He was in his human form, and still his resolve burned brighter than ever. The truth cannot be evil, they were wronged, they were suppressed and they all were confused. Fighting in the mob right in front of the powerful elves..? That was stupidity, they lost good beastmen today.

But not anymore, Neo will not let his kin endure anymore, enough was enough. It was time to rise—not through brute strength, though that time would come later—but through strategy. For now he needed a plan, a plan to bring all the beastmen in the world to their rightful home.

He took a deep breath, calming his mind. Activating his newly acquired skill, Shadow-veil, he melted into the shadows—it was his only peace left in a world full of treachery.

The roar of the last great guardian beast was lost from the world today, but there was something left behind.. Something that will echo in the pages of history forever..

"For the fallen, For the pride, for Home.."