Ravok, a towering tiger demihuman standing nearly 7 feet (213.36 cm) tall, faced Bastion in the VIP stands. Clad in leather armor, his rippling muscles, razor-sharp claws, and bared fangs made him look every bit the apex predator. Opposite him stood Bastion, half a foot shorter but encased head to toe in black full plate armor, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, meeting the tiger's glare without the slightest hint of fear.
Around them, the crowd watched in eager silence, anticipating a free match between the infamous Rank 3 slaver and the mysterious Rank 2 merchant from a distant land. It promised to be a spectacular fight as the tension in the air thickened with every furious breath Ravok exhaled.
Just as Ravok's muscles coiled to charge, a fed-up sigh drifted down from the highest branch of the Jungle's Claws, a section of the tree named the Hubris Claw where the Rank 3 combatants occasionally fought. The sigh was quiet, barely more than a whisper, yet every person in the arena heard it with perfect clarity.
"If you want to fight, make it official. If you're too barbaric for even that, you might as well die rather than become a slave," a female voice said, sending a chill through every feline demihuman present.
It was more a comment than a suggestion, yet it was received as a command all the same, resonating with something deep within their blood. It was a ruler's decree that demanded obedience.
Immediately, Ravok's fighting stance wilted. His rage subsided, his claws retracted, his fangs disappeared behind closed lips, and his tail snapped upright in full attention at the command to be civil. He lowered himself into a deep hunch and looked up toward the Hubris Claw, hoping to plead his case.
"This one cheated," he said softly. "Our fight was supposed to be a 3-on-3, but it became a 2-on-3 before it even began. He poisoned my third fighter before the match, invalidating our contract."
"Show me," the female voice commanded.
Before Ravok could move, Bastion produced the contract and held it out for inspection without a word, having swapped his sword for it faster than anyone could blink. A long silence followed, the atmosphere now far more tense than before. The excitement of an impromptu battle was gone, replaced by dread as they stood beneath the gaze of a clearly superior being.
"Interference before the fight was declared grounds for an automatic forfeit based on the contract. If what you claim is true, the contract would have been fulfilled in your favor before the match even began. I see no trickery in this completed contract, which means it is both valid and legal. You, Ravok, have lost. Swallow your pride and allow the scheduled matches to continue."
"Yes, Your Highness," Ravok muttered, lowering his head, though the fire of vengeance burned clear in his eyes, stronger than ever.
"And you, merchant, I look forward to your new restaurant. I have high expectations for it. Do not keep me waiting any longer."
Bastion gave a polite bow, saying nothing. For a brief moment, tense silence settled over the arena once more.
"Well... there you have it, folks. Ravok lost, so deal with it. By the way, if you're in desperate need of cash, our brokers will be more than happy to accommodate you," the announcer said, shattering the silence and restoring the arena's usual boisterous atmosphere.
Meanwhile, Bastion took his leave and headed for the arena's exit to meet up with the others. He soon spotted them making their way out as well.
Seraphina was enthusiastically praising Lilia for destroying the domain and saving her, while Ariel carried the unconscious cheetah, Selyn, over one shoulder. Trailing behind them were the two panthers, both wearing pouting expressions, seemingly more dissatisfied by their defeat than by having a new master.
"Good job, girls," Bastion said with a smile.
"Hahaha!" Lilia laughed, puffing out her chest with pride. "I fucking kicked ass! Did you see me tear down that domain? Goddess, the timing couldn't have been better. Seraphina was seconds away from being ripped to shreds. The rush of finding the last node at that exact moment… I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins."
"My hero," Seraphina swooned, patting Lilia on the head.
Normally, Lilia would have swatted her hand away at the teasing, but she was far too excited to care. She practically bounced with every step, unable to contain her excitement.
"What now?" Ariel asked, readjusting Selyn on her shoulder as she began to slip.
Feline demihumans were quite like cats in that they became questionably liquid whenever they went limp.
"Now we head back to the capital," Bastion replied.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" one of the panthers asked from behind with a smirk. "You know Ravok will be waiting for you, right? It'd probably be better to stay here, where it's nice and safe, and strike a deal with him instead."
"The contract may stop him from getting us back, even if he kills you," the other panther added. "But that won't stop him from killing you and everyone else all the same if you leave now while he's still pissed."
Ariel glanced back at them. "Why are you both talking like that isn't your problem? We can order you to defend us, you know."
The panthers shrugged. "At worst, he'll slap us around until we pass out. He likes us too much to kill us."
"There's no point arguing about it here," Bastion said. "Let's get moving."
They made their way down the Avarice Claw via one of the many massive roots that descended to the ground before boarding the carriage and setting off. Once inside, with all sight and sound blocked, Seraphina administered a potion to the cheetah. Moments later, Selyn jolted upright, a frantic look spreading across her face.
"What happened?" she asked. "Did you win?"
"Yeah, we won," Seraphina replied. "You took the potion at exactly the right time."
"Good. I thought I was going to ruin everything when I was forced to charge that little blue mage."
"What!?" the two panthers exclaimed in unison.
"But the rules!" one of them cried. "They weren't allowed to sabotage you and you had to fight at your best! You weren't allowed to throw the match!"
"I figured that loophole out years ago," Selyn said confidently. "They aren't allowed to sabotage us, and we aren't allowed to throw the match, but there's nothing stopping me from sabotaging myself before the match even begins. That lets me choose my next master with complete certainty. All I had to do was wait for the right people, and these guys convinced me."
The moment Selyn spotted a healer among Bastion's party, she knew Ravok would be interested in them. Once she confronted the group and learned they needed three cooks willing to serve for a thousand years, she was more than happy to accept.
Compared to enduring Ravok's constant harassment because she refused to consent to having sex with him, spending the next thousand years as a cook was a small price to pay for her freedom.
She was still quite young, barely a millennium old, and had plenty of time to pursue a second profession. Losing a thousand years wasn't much if it meant escaping Ravok forever. The panthers, however, might not see it that way. They were each at least a millennium older than she was, making the same bargain far less appealing.
"What did they offer you?"
"100 magic crystals, training to become a Rank 2 cook, and 1,000 years to get good at it before my slave status is rescinded. I believe they're planning to offer you girls the same deal."
"A thousand years of cooking!?" the panthers exclaimed in disbelief. "What an absolute waste of time!"
"You'll also receive skills to help you with your work, and you'll only be working 5 days a week, 8 hours a day. The rest of the time is yours to use however you please," Bastion offered. "Once you're good enough cooks, you'll have to step up your game by creating dishes of your own, but we have a cheat prepared that will let you create successful menus that'll stay relevant for the next thousand years."
"Only 5 days a week and for only 8 hours a day?" the panthers exclaimed. "We can use the rest of the time to level up, right?"
"Sure," Bastion said with a shrug. "Just keep in mind that you'll be serving dishes to the nobility, so you have to be on your best behavior when you cook. I wouldn't put it past them to have you executed if you poisoned them."
The panthers gulped, suddenly realizing just how dangerous the world of cooking could be.
Suddenly, Bastion received a telepathic message from Elyra, who had been deliberately staying away from the group during their entire stay.
'I failed, Master,' she said. 'His instincts prevented me from leaving a mark on him, let alone looking directly at him. Even from the shadows, I couldn't stare at him for too long without arousing suspicion.'
'That's fine, Ely,' Bastion replied. 'I knew demihumans have far sharper instincts than humans, so it was always a long shot, especially against an experienced Rank 3. Don't beat yourself up over it. What about the other matter?'
'The maximum payout for any bet is 100 magic crystals as per the Jungle's Claws' rules. I collected 400 in total by spreading my bets across different bookmakers. I even had to hunt down a few who tried to make a run for it. Fortunately, they became quite agreeable with a knife to their throats.'
'Excellent work, Ely. This whole trip practically paid for itself. You can come back now, and have your shadows keep a close watch over the carriage. We'll have to be extra careful since we can't keep track of Ravok.'
'Yes, Master.'
It had always been the plan for Elyra to operate separately from the group to avoid any complications with the betting, which was why she had to remain hidden throughout their stay. It also gave them a hidden trump card against the sore losers that inevitably followed any competition.
Unfortunately, this time their opponent was simply too strong for Elyra to handle alone. Defeating Ravok would require more than surprise attacks. It would take careful planning, a bit of ingenuity, and perhaps a sacrifice or two. Bastion could only hope the price wouldn't be too high.
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