The sky outside Shareon City was dark, full of cold wind and danger, but inside the Howling Fang Inn, it was a different world.

The air stank of sweat, cheap alcohol, and smoke. The wooden floor was stained with spills and old blood. Loud laughter roared through the hall, mixing with the clinking of mugs and the sound of wild music.

The Howling Fang Inn was chaos wrapped in wood and smoke. Located near the south edge of Shareon, it was a haven for criminals, mercenaries, and the scum who had nowhere else to go.

Its signboard—half-hanging and splintered—creaked in the wind. Inside, the scent was thick: cheap perfume, rotten meat, unwashed bodies, and alcohol so strong it could peel paint off a wall.

The main hall was large, but packed. Tables were filled to the brim. Plates of half-eaten meat lay forgotten as men slammed mugs together.

A pair of thugs were arm wrestling on one table, blood already dripping from a cut on one of their hands. A bet was going on at the next table—knives thrown at a wooden post, the loser taking a blade to the thigh.

Above the crowd, on shaky wooden platforms, girls danced in thin, sheer cloth, swinging their hips, shaking their breasts, teasing the drunk, wild crowd. One of them bent over, letting a man bite a coin from between her thighs. He laughed, tossing his head back with bloodshot eyes.

One dancer poured wine straight into a man's mouth while he grabbed her waist. She didn't mind. This was the game.

Two men were fighting in the far corner, fists pounding one another into bloody pulp with one already missing teeth but no one cared.

Blood just added to the mood.

At a center table sat a gang of rough-looking bastards. Scarred faces, missing fingers, and cruel grins. One of them—tall, bald, face like a smashed rock—held his mug up and yelled, "To the whores and the coin they helped young ones lose their virgin dick!"

Laughter boomed. A nearby girl gave him a slap and a wink.

In the middle of all this, a man in a patched brown coat downed a black mug in one swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty hand.

"Heard about the slaughter outside?" he asked.

The men around him paused. The music still played, but the nearby tables leaned in.

"Slaughter?" a drunk hunter asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," the man said, setting his mug down.

"There didn't seem to be any guild war. This was clean slash killing, without hesitation like that of a trained knight or warrior. I heard the bodies didn't even have time to scream."

That got their attention.The people aroundl went quiet for a moment. Then someone chuckled.

"HA! So what? It's Shareon!"

"People die here more often than cats scratch fleas!"

"A slaughter is just morning tea around here!"

"Maybe someone stepped on the wrong boot," another said.

"Or touched someone's girl," a fat mercenary added with a yellow grin.

But the man shook his head slowly. "No, no. This was different. No fights. No gang flags. According to the sources, it was just a single man."

That dropped like a stone in the middle of a still lake. The laughter slowed.

"A lone guy?"

"Bullshit. One man?"

"How can one man face that many.If it's true that he might already be well known and no one touches the true power of the city."

"Believe me..From the people we picked up to the morgue.They have sliced off arms, took down a squad, didn't even draw breath. Walked away like it was nothing."

"Who the fuck is that?" one whispered, now serious.

"I don't know," the man said, leaning forward. "But I know he ain't one of the nobles. Just showed up. And he's got balls big enough to roll down a mountain."

"Pfff... Maybe he's some old knight playing hero."

"Or a mad dog who don't know where he is."

"Doesn't matter," one finally said, tapping the hilt of his blade. "If he's killin' mercs, he's collectiongArmor, gold, bounty tokens… maybe even Guild creds."

Eyes narrowed. Greed started to bubble.

"Could be a fortune, just walkin' around."

"He'll die eventually. And when he does..."

"We take it all."

A few bandits chuckled. One drew a crude map on the table with beer and dragged his knife across it.

"He's out there. Alone. We just gotta find him first."

And in that room of wolves, hunger started to spread. Not for food, not for drink.But for blood and gold.

...…

At the far end of the drunken chaos, where shadows clung to the walls and the noise faded into a dull roar, two cloaked figures sat quietly at a lonely table. A single lantern flickered above them, casting crooked shadows over their mugs.

One of the figures leaned back, slamming down a wooden mug with a satisfied grunt.

"Woooowww… now that's a fresh chilled beer. Really soothes my damn soul…" the man with black hair said with a grin, his voice light but wild, almost like a predator enjoying peace before the hunt.

Then he grabbed the pieces of roasted meat and bit it joyfully.

He turned to the person before him. A red lock of hair peeked out from the hood of the cloak. She sat still, hands wrapped around an egg she was carefully protecting, her own drink untouched.

"Hey, Lyria, just drink, will ya? Why are you sitting so damn quietly?" Kael asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lyria finally lifted her head, her calm golden eyes peering through her bangs.

"Sorry, I can't, Master. I have low tolerance."

Kael blinked… then snorted.

"Pfft—low tolerance? The hell are you talking about? You're a demon! You guys eat poison for breakfast and burn down forests for fun. A mug of beer is like river water to you lot!" he said, half amused, half annoyed.

Without waiting for her response, Kael shoved the mug closer.

"C'mon, you just need to build it up. Now drink. That's an order."

Lyria stared at him blankly for a second, then looked at the beer.

Her fingers moved slowly, gripping the handle. Under Kael's watchful gaze, instead of sipping gently, she tilted her head back—

Gulp gulp gulp gulp—

SLAM!

"Hey! Hey! Wait! Not like that!" Kael shouted, reaching forward.

But it was too late.

The mug hit the table empty, and Lyria's head followed a second later.

BANG!

Her forehead thudded hard onto the table, arms limply sprawled beside her. Loud snoring followed a moment later.

Kael stared in silence.

"Huh?!"

His eye twitched.

"You've got to be kidding me… You demons can eat anything and survive lava pits… but one mug of beer puts you to sleep?! What the hell is this broken logic?!"

He slumped into his seat, covering his face with one hand. There was nothing he could do now.

She was out cold.

With a sigh, he raised his hand and called for a girl.

A young barmaid swayed over, hips moving like waves. Her chest was pushed up, and her smile said more than words.

"Thanks for your patronage, sir... Anything else I can serve?" she said sweetly, tracing her fingers over the table toward Kael.

Kael shoved a few coins toward her without even glancing up.

"Just take the money. No flirting."

The girl pouted and left.

Kael stood, reaching forward to lift Lyria from the table. Her body slumped against him like a sleeping child. As he was about to carry her out, a cold voice stopped him.

"You can leave. But that girl stays."

Kael's eyes narrowed.

He slowly turned his head. A group of rough men stood blocking the exit—scarred, tattooed, and reeking of blood and ale. The leader, tall with a slashed eye and cruel grin, licked his lips as he stared at Lyria's exposed side. Her cloak had slipped slightly, revealing pale, soft skin that shimmered even under the dim light.

Kael's expression darkened. He already knew what kind of scum these men were. Worse yet, he knew this was not the first time something like this had happened.

Ever since he took Lyria out into the open, men had been drawn to her like flies to rotting meat. She didn't even realize it—but something about her, maybe her scent, her aura, was pulling beasts from every direction.

And worst of that, her horns give all away.

"Why?" Kael asked coldly.

The man stepped forward, smiling wide.

"Why? To fuck her, of course. Look at her… I'm tired of these used-up brothel whores. My little brother down here needs some fresh meat, you get me?"

He pointed to the monstrous bulge in his pants and laughed. The others around him snickered.

Kael's eye twitched.

"What the fuck is wrong with this city…? Why is everyone so damn horny all the time?"

His fingers gripped the edge of the table, eyes narrowing, cold fire rising in his chest.

"So even here… I really need to get serious." he muttered under his breath, gently setting Lyria down onto the bench.

Then, he straightened up.His coat shifted.

A thin glint of steel flashed from under the folds.

Kael's smile disappeared.