The rabbit village had been conquered in the blink of an eye.
Most of the men were murdered on the spot, while Elina, along with a handful of surviving girls, was taken into captivity. However, it wasn't the brutality of the world that infuriated her most. The true blow was the fact that the executioner of her people was not a monster, but another Hero.
"Well now, Elina?" she heard a guttural voice say. "Have you thought it through thoroughly yet? You don't have much time for deliberation."
Verial, the Werewolf Chieftain, stood over her, radiating a predatory aura. He was powerfully built, and his eyes scanned her with disgusting satisfaction.
He smiled lewdly, unabashedly staring at her gigantic breasts, which rose and fell violently under the influence of her rapid breathing, and at the long, trembling rabbit ears protruding from her head.
Elina clenched her bound hands, feeling stinging tears of humiliation. Verial, as a stronger Hero, felt no solidarity with another person. To him, she was only valuable loot and a "resource" he intended to exploit.
"Remember that your life and the lives of these remaining bunnies depend on my goodwill," Verial continued, licking his fangs.
Elina remained silent, feeling a hatred so thick she could almost spit it out. She was imprisoned by someone who should have been her ally. Seeing Elina's silence, Verial burst into a loud, mocking laugh that echoed through the encampment.
He felt like the master of life and death. He had been incredibly lucky - while other Heroes woke up as weak goblins or defenseless animals, he immediately sat on the throne of the Blood Fang tribe leader. He started the game with an advantage others could only dream of.
Before him, Elina trembled with rage, her rabbit ears pinned flat against her head. If not for her unique talent, and the fact that she was a top-class beauty with a stunningly large bust, Verial would have had her torn apart long ago.
But he liked having pretty and useful things in his collection.
"We are both Heroes!" Elina blurted out, her voice trembling with emotion. "Instead of uniting forces against the Demon Kings, you plundered my village! You murdered my people! Don't you think you've gone too far?!"
Verial stopped laughing, and his gaze became cold and predatory.
"Gone too far? Little one, this isn't a game of justice. This is a world where the weak listen to the strong! That is the only law that applies here."
He took a step closer, towering over her with his powerful silhouette.
"I have already reached the werewolf racial limit and advanced to Hero Level 2. Do you understand that? I have over a thousand warriors under me, and what do you have? A few carrots and a herd of terrified hares? What right do you have to claim we are equals?"
Elina froze, her heart beating faster with terror.
Level 2?
She knew what that meant. The system was merciless - to even begin gaining levels on the Hero bar, one first had to max out the stats of their current race. Most Players were still struggling with level one, trying to hit the racial limit, and he had already surpassed it.
Verial bared his fangs in a brutal smile.
"You only have two paths, cutie. Either you submit to my will and become my... 'assistant,' or I will personally see to it that you and those bunnies of yours end up as dinner for my boys. Choose. That is my ultimatum."
Elina lowered her gaze, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. The hatred in her heart burned with a living fire, but she wasn't stupid. Fighting at this moment would mean immediate death for her and her surviving sisters. She had to pocket her pride and bend her neck before the tyrant.
"I understand..." she whispered barely audibly, bowing her head.
For now, I will be obedient, she thought, clenching her fists behind her back. I will wait for the slightest chance, for one mistake from this beast. I will escape this place, and then he will regret letting me live.
Verial, satisfied at the sight of her submission, slapped her hard on the shoulder, chuckling to himself as he sat on his throne.
In his previous life, he was the owner of a predatory loan shark company that collapsed when he tried to cheat the wrong people. He died in a dark alley, begging for mercy from creditors whose debts he had no chance of repaying.
Here, however, the tables had turned. He had a body capable of rending steel and a faction that sowed terror throughout the region.
His plan was simple: absorb every village, recruit every "loser" Hero, and become the undisputed ruler of the Forest of Chaos. He felt he finally commanded his destiny, all the more so when he saw a rabbit woman bowing before him in such a manner.
***
Suddenly, several bloodied warriors and a few other Werewolves burst into the tent. They fell to their knees, their breathing ragged and full of panic as they began to deliver their report.
Verial listened to the report, his face slowly turning purple. When the names of Kaelen and the other two were mentioned in the context of their definitive deaths, the chieftain roared so loudly the tent canvas flapped.
"WHAT?!" he screamed, slamming his fist onto the table, which shattered into splinters. "I ordered those morons to take the goblin village and bring back a report, and those three idiots decided to play conquerors on their own?!"
He knew perfectly well what had driven them. They wanted to monopolize the reward for the Demon King of the Valley of Darkness to undermine his authority.
"To think they wanted to rob me!" Verial panted heavily, saliva dripping from his snout. "Instead of bringing me a demon's head, they let themselves be slaughtered like piglets! They're a bunch of irredeemable fools! Worthless trash! Those incompetent morons wasted my human potential!"
The envoys recoiled in fear, pinning their ears back. One of the surviving Werewolf-Heroes, seeing that the chief was about to bite someone, cautiously stepped forward.
"Boss... calm down. Judging by the report of those who managed to crawl out of that hell, the Demon King of the Valley of Darkness is probably some powerful undead," he said, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
Verial slowly sat down, though his eyes still burned with fury. He tried to summon the remnants of cold calculation from his former life.
"An undead, you say?" he murmured, wiping his fangs. "How strong is this corpse? How many soldiers does it have?"
The Werewolf-Hero swallowed hard, recalling the delusions of the barely-alive scouts.
"Boss... the situation was too chaotic. When Kaelen and the rest fell into that trap, the undead were everywhere. The warriors who survived claim... they claim they didn't even see the Demon King. They were massacred by the spirits alone before they even reached the heart of the valley."
Verial snorted, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of his subordinates' fear. "How much strength does he have? How many of those undead were standing there?" he growled, locking eyes with the messenger.
The werewolf cowered slightly, answering: "Reports mention a number between 400 and 500 units. All are undead, vengeful spirits that appeared from nowhere. That is why Kaelen and the rest were completely slaughtered. They had no way to touch them, boss."
"That many?!" Verial did not hide his surprise.
He quickly recalculated in his head. Kaelen had only 50 werewolves with him. Since he fell into an ambush set by half a thousand ethereal beings, it was natural that he didn't stand the slightest chance. But where did this Demon King get such an army in such a short time?
Another Hero, a Werewolf-Mage with an intelligent but predatory gaze, stepped forward: "This Demon King is developing much faster than expected. He will certainly pose a serious threat in the future!"
Verial's expression darkened even further.
The greatest advantage Demon Kings had over Heroes was their almost unlimited potential for structural growth. If such an individual got hold of a gold vein or stable resources, they could build an army at a pace the werewolf tribal structures could not match.
"That corpse is no weakling," Verial muttered to himself. "Besides, the undead don't need food, sleep, or pay. Their maintenance costs are laughable. If we allow him to keep lording it over the area, he'll flood us with tons of bones and spirits before we can even blink."
Suddenly, with a fury that numbed his fear, Verial struck the remnants of the table with an open palm. The bang echoed off the tent walls.
"The Demon King just won a great victory, so he has surely let his guard down! He thinks he's the master of the valley because he wiped out a small scouting party!" he stood up abruptly, his aura weighing down on everyone present.
"Gather all our warriors immediately! Not 50, not 100! We are going with the whole pack! We will attack the Valley of Darkness and crush him before he has the chance to summon even one more corpse!"
Verial had a furious, almost crazed expression on his face. His loan-shark instinct told him this was the last moment to take over this "business" before the competition became too strong.
"Damn it, that bloody bastard... To dare kill my people in such a humiliating way? I won't let him die an easy death!" he hissed through his teeth. "I will rip him to pieces and personally check how much gold he has in that nest of his!"