The villagers never expected their quiet noon to crack open like this.
One moment, they were prepared baskets of dried leaves and sweeping the dirt road. The next, the wind shifted—carrying a scent none of them recognized. Heavy. Wild.
And then they appeared.
A group of Beastfolk at the village entrance—towering figures with wolf ears, sharp eyes, and stiff posture. The mere sight of them made several villagers shrink back.
Mhari felt her heart lurch, SHIT. Don't panic. Not now. She instinctively placed a hand over her abdomen, an old grounding habit. I am a commoner. I am slow. I am weak. Lie better, Mhari.
Beside her, Rhei stood straight, though she noticed the slight tremble in his hands. He hid it well for someone who had never dealt with nobles of Beastfolk in his life.
"Stay behind me," he murmured.
Mhari didn't. She moved one step forward instead.
Their eyes met briefly. Rhei sighed. He should've know better.
The Beastfolk delegation parted as a single old human stepped forward. He wore polished boots and a noble coat far too fancy for dusty roads. His silver hair was tied nearly, and he wore sunglasses—as if the very sunlight here was beneath him.
Behinds him followed two adult wolf Beastfolk nobles and a younger wolfboy, maybe ten or eleven, whose small nose wrinkled in disgust at everything he saw.
Mhari felt the villagers stiffen around her. No one spoke, and everyone waited for someone else to move first.
The old man cleared his throat with a practiced arrogance.
"I am Lord Baron Helvane," he announced, voice sharp like a cane tapping stone. "And I am looking for the young man named Rhei. He sold rice at the city market two days ago."
Rhei stepped forward, bowing stiffly. "T-That's me, my Lord "
Halvane looked him up and down as if evaluating a piece of cheap furniture he regretted buying.
"Mhm. I bought every last grain from you. It was acceptable for commoner crop." His tone made the word acceptable sound like an insult. "And I told you I would visit your...ah...'village.'"
The younger Beastfolk noble muttered loudly. "Why in the world would humans choose to live in such a miserable place?"
The other wolf noble huffed. "We're breathing the same air as these... weaklings."
Mhari clenched her fists. Two more seconds and I start calculating their optimal trajectory into the moon.
No... I could just unleash a single, glorious inferno. Problem solved. Tch. So much for subtlety.
What a pest...
Another Beastfolk clicked his tongue. "And why," he continued with contempt, "are we standing outside like unwanted guests? Do your commoners really not know basic respect? No invitation to your home? No courtesy?"
The other sneered. "Filthy humans. Probably haven't even seen inside of a school. Honestly, what can you expect?"
Villagers immediately bowed their heads, mortified. Several trembled in shame.
Mhari's inner empress bristled. These arrogant parasites... Every instinct screamed for a swift, brutal solution. But Rhei... She forced herself to breathe, to tamp down the simmering rage.
Rhei's mother—frail, elderly, leaning heavily on a crooked cane—pushed herself forward. Mhari and Rhei both rushed to support her arms so she wouldn't collapse.
She bowed low despite her weak knees.
"I—We beg forgiveness," she said, voice trembling. "We are poorly educated, my lords... Please forgive the lack of manners. We simply... We simply did not know..."
The wolf noble sneered. "Clearly. This is what happens when humans breed without standards."
Mhari's jaw clenched. How dare they...
Another Beastfolk huffed dramatically. "The smell here is unbearable. How do you weak humans tolerate it?" He fanned the air theatrically, wrinkling his nose. "Rooting weeds and... despair. Disgusting."
This motherfxcker. Mhari inhaled slowly. Calm. Calm. I am a commoner. Commoners don't know three thousand ways to liquidate a Beastfolk.
Yet. Rhei lowered his gaze in humiliation. She could feel his frustration, his shame...and his dear that he would look pathetic in front of her.
Before Mhari could speak and do something irrational, she felt someone stepping in, and it was Rhei.
"We are doing our best," Rhei started. "This village—"
Before Rhei could make a move, Mhari stepped slightly in front of him to forestall him. But Helvane was faster. He chuckled before looking at Rhei. The noble's gaze was fixed on Rhei's mother, her face etched with years of hardship, and the old human was ready to add fuel.
"Such touching loyalty," he said, his gaze fixed on Rhei's mother. "A rare thing these days. Pity it's wasted. One wonders if a little ambition earlier in life might have averted this... squalor. Some, I suppose, are simply born to be burderns." His eyes flickered to Mhari, cold and assessing. "Perhaps a firmer hand is needed here. Someone's unburdened by... sentiment."
His words were a slap in the face. He wasn't just insulting Rhei's mother, he was implying she useless. His eyes flickered to Mhari. The implication, wrapped in thin politeness, was a blatant, disgusting proposition. This sh*t crossed the g*ddam line.
The villagers groveling, Rhei shrinking...it was sickening. The old noble Baron Helvane, chuckled, a dry rasping sound that made Mhari want to grind her teeth. He was about to add insult to injury, his gaze fixed on Rhei's mother.
"Forgive my interruption," Mhari said, her voice suddenly carrying with the unmistakable timbre of command. Time for a little "correction."
Her words, though softly spoken, silenced the entire clearing. Heads snapped up, eyes widening. Even the old human paused, his smirk faltering. But Mhari ignored the sudden tension, her gaze fixed on the sneering wolf Beastfolk.
"Perhaps you would be more comfortable if we moved this discussion to a more... appropriate setting? My apologies, but I couldn't help but overhead your assessment of our hospitality. I assure you, ignorance is not a virtue we cultivate here." Her voice wasn't raised, but it echoed with a quiet power that sent shivers down spines. A touch of the Empress, honed over a lifetime of command.
The Beastfolk spluttered, his face flushing crimson. "How dare you, human—"
Before he could finish, the other Beastfolk grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Enough, Koda. Do you want to ruin this business?" He turned to Mhari, his eyes narrowed. "Perhaps the lady is right. A change of scenery would be... preferable. Lead the way, then." He masked his annoyance well, but Mhari could feel the undercurrent of hostility radiating from him.
Mhari gave a small, almost regal nod. "Thank you. If you would follow me..."
Keh! Just try something. I dare you.
Baron Helvane was silent, observing Mhari with unnerving intensity. This woman...she's not what she seems. There's steel beneath that calm facade. He trailed after her, his sunglasses doing little to hide his calculating gaze.
The villagers guided them toward a wooden cabin—humble, clean, well-kept despite its simplicity. The Beastfolk looked at it like it was a disease.
Helvane entered with the air of a man stepping into a pigsty. "Charming," he muttered dryly.
Wolf nobles sat only because protocol demanded it. Boards creaked beneath their weight. The young wolfboy, Grimoire refused to sit at all, choosing instead to stand, his nose twitching in disgust as he surveyed the interior.
Mhari prepared tea. Her movements were calm, and graceful. She didn't rush, every motion was precise.
And instantly, the room changed. Helvane paused mid-complaint. Rhei blinked, confused. Even the arrogant Beastfolks briefly watched.
Go on, Mhari thought darkly. Realize I know more etiquette than the royal family you worship.
She lifted the teapot, pouring with a steady, controlled stream—no spill, no hesitation, exact angle and height.
Oh, I'm sorry. Am I making you feel inferior, you entitled little shxts?
The wolf noble clicked his tongue. "I refuse to drink anything made by weak commoner hands."
The other growled. "And the smell... Ugh. I might vomit."
However, Baron Helvane watched her. Studied her. Mhari pretended not to notify, but her senses were sharp. She always knew when eyes lingered too long.
The wolfboy, Grimoire suddenly pupedyup, voice laced with boredom. "Say, why aren't there any kids here? I want to see what weak human kid look like."
Mhari's posture stiffened.
Rhei's mother answered gently, "Most children play near the pond. Only a few live here, my Young lord."
Grimoire's gaze sharpened, fixing on the old woman with disturbing intensity. "I want them brought here. I'd love to play with them."
Mhari felt a cold dread creep into her bones. That's it. This kid planning something.
Rhei quickly interjected. "W-We can bring them later b—"
"Oh please," Helvane sighed. "I'll send one of my men to fetch them. Children should be avail when nobles require their presence."
Rhei's eyes widened. "T-That isn't necessary—"
Koda, a Beastfolk wolf scoffed. "What's wrong? Afraid we'll steal your precious rice? You commoners always assume we'll take what we want."
Mhari's expression softened—dangerously.
She stepped forward. Voice calm, and her posture was elegant.
"My I speak, my lords?"
The Beastfolk who named Koda, raised a brow. "You dare interrupt—?"
"What she dares," Helvane cut in, "is interesting. Go on, woman."
Mhari bowed slightly like a noble, flawless.
"When a noble visits a village," she said gently, "it is customary to respect the household's boundaries. Forcing children to appear is... unbecoming."
The room stilled. Her voice was pleasant, but her words were a slap.
The wolf noble slammed a hand on the table. CRACK! "And what would a nobody like you know about noble customs?"
Mhari smiled faintly, a genuine, terrifying smile. "I know enough to recognize when someone oversteps."
The wolf noble lifted his hand—ready to strike her.
Do it, you privileged fv*\*k. I'll break your arm in seven places.
But before the strike landed—the second wolf noble grabbed his wrist. "Don't. Your hand will be dirtied by touching her." He flared at Mhari. "Let us focus on why we're are here. Business. Rice."
Helvane nodded slowly, sipping the tea she'd prepared as though insulting her earlier wasn't enough. "Surprisingly good," he murmured. "Even commoners can excel at something, it seems."
Rhei snapped. "Stop insulting my mother and this village! If this is how you treat us, then I won't—"
Helvane cut him off with a cold look. "You forget your place, boy."
Rhei stood, shaking with fury.
Mhari moved to stop him, when a sharp voice cut through the room like thunder.
"Hey."
The pressure was suffocating—heavy, crushing, ancient. Every muscle in every person froze. A child stood at the doorway. His gaze was cold. Blank. Predatory. His voice was low, too calm, too dangerous.
Lith...?
"Did... Did your filthy hand... just dare a lay hand... On my mother?" His words were soft, almost a whisper, but they vibrated with barely suppressed rage.
The room went still. Rhei gasped. Even the nobles, jaded and arrogant as they were, visibly recoiled. The air crackling with unspoken threat.
Instinct took over. Mhari shattered the suffocating tension, knowing what was coming if she didn't act fast. Lith, at that age, was still volatile, untamed. And she knew that look in his eyes. He was ready to get his hands dirty, to unleash a darkness she'd tried so hard keep buried.
The shift was immediate. Almost as if a switch immediate. Mhari forced a Zero-Point pulse—a sudden, localized of the last two seconds. Details blurred, memories slipped. Everyone blinked, disoriented.
Too close. Too close.
"Lith," Mhari said, her voice firm but gentle. The single word was enough. Then, Lith blinker, his face softening, the dangerous edge receding. He was her sweet, angelic boy again. He obeyed.
Beastfolk. The guest blinked, disoriented. They only remembered a clear voice calling "Hey" Everyonewas trying to figure out what's going on.
Mhari moved smoothly, injecting a forced lightness into her tone. "Forgive my son, he just spoke because he was surprised and worried. This is Lith, by the way. And regarding the children in the village, it's best to not bother them. It's really better if YongyMaster Grimoire played with my son instead."
Lith, as if one cue, stepped forward, executing a flawless bow that would have put any royal courtier to shame. It was a mannerisms Mhari had never taught him, a grace that seemed to flow from some deep, intrinsic well. "I apologize for my... outburst," he said, his voice polite and well-modulated. "It would be my honor to entertain Young Master Grimoire." He was smiling, but beneath the surface, Mhari could sense a barely restrained intensity.
Baron Helvane looked delighted. "Now that is proper manners."
Rhei started at Lith and whispered. "Where...did he learn that?"
Mhari simply smiled. "Experience," she said.
Baron Helvane chuckled. "Truly impressive. You and your child conduct yourselves like nobles. Where did you learn such etiquette?" But in his thoughts. Where did a commoner like her could raise a child with a perfect manners like that?
Mhari met his eyes calmly. And for a moment, a shadow crossed her expression. "We simply learned," she said softly, "from another life..."
...