The injured young female beast monger limped through the dense forest, her every step filled with pain and fear. She glanced over her shoulder repeatedly, half-expecting to see Aron hot on her trail. The weight of her injured ankle slowed her down, but her desperation fueled her desire to reach the settlement as quickly as possible.
The beast monger settlement came into view, a collection of huts constructed from sturdy branches and animal hides. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and the sounds of bustling activity. The settlement seemed like a fortress nestled within the untamed wilderness, its inhabitants fully immersed in their savage existence.
With a final burst of effort, the female beast monger stumbled into the heart of the settlement. Her arrival did not go unnoticed, as the commotion drew the attention of the other beast mongers. Their gazes fell upon her, curiosity mingled with concern evident in their eyes.
A loud, desperate cry escaped her lips as she sought help. "Father! Father!" she called out, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and pain.
A figure emerged from the crowd, a towering presence that stood well over 250cm. He possessed an imposing physique, his muscular frame covered in scars that bore witness to countless battles. His weathered face displayed a mix of ruggedness and wisdom, his eyes sharp and filled with recognition.
It was the female beast monger's father, a formidable force within their clan. He exuded a sense of authority and power that commanded respect from his peers. As he approached, his voice rumbled with a deep, resonant timbre.
"What happened, daughter?" he demanded, concern and anger blending in his tone.
The female beast monger's voice trembled as she recounted the encounter with Aron and the consequences of their actions. She held nothing back, vividly describing Aron's strength and his daring challenge to their settlement.
The father of the girl growled in anger, his voice filled with a primal fury. "How dare he?" he exclaimed, his fists clenching. "No outsider has the right to threaten our clan."
He turned to his daughter, his eyes burning with a mix of protectiveness and fury. "Go to your mother," he commanded, his tone firm. "Inform her of what has transpired. I will deal with this intruder myself and wash this shame he dares try to bring upon my family."
The young female nodded, a mixture of relief and worry etched on her face. She quickly made her way toward their hut.
Meanwhile, the father prepared himself for the confrontation. He was a seasoned warrior, his battle prowess renowned among his kind. Standing slightly taller than Aron, he exuded an aura of raw strength and ferocity.
The father of the young beast mongers left the safety of the settlement, his movements steady and purposeful. His massive figure surged forward, his steps resonating with power and primal force. With each stride, the ground seemed to tremble beneath him, as if the very earth recognized the might of his presence.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, his appearance mirrored the untamed wilderness that surrounded him. His muscular form was adorned with animal furs and crude armor, a testament to his survival in the harshest of environments. His every movement exuded a primal grace, as if he were an apex predator stalking its prey.
Back at the clearing, Rose's scouter reappeared near Aron, its crystal helm shimmering with a soft glow. The device relayed a message from Rose, her voice filled with urgency.
"Only one figure is approaching," she informed Aron. "There's no sign of the others. Be on guard."
Aron furrowed his brow, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in his eyes. "This could be the Jor they mentioned," he mused, his voice tinged with a touch of caution. "But I won't be daunted. Just be prepared to aid me in escaping if things become too overwhelming."
Rose nodded through the scouter, her voice resolute. "I'll be ready. Trust in our plan."
The scouter flew away just as the ground beneath them began to rumble. Trees swayed and toppled over, as if bowing to the approaching force. The father of the girl and boy had arrived, his presence accompanied by an air of raw power and fury.
His gaze fell upon Aron, standing tall near the unconscious body of his son. A deep growl resonated from his chest, his anger seething beneath the surface. However, unlike his children, he possessed the wisdom that came with age and experience. He could see that Aron was strong, very strong.
The father approached, his steps measured and deliberate. He began by introducing himself, his voice carrying the weight of authority and heritage. "I am Skar the Wildborn," he declared, his words resonating with power. "What is your name, young warrior?"
Aron met his gaze, his expression unyielding. "I am Aron," he responded, his voice steady. "Aron of Limbo."
Skar nodded approvingly, a hint of respect in his eyes. "A strong name," he remarked. "But tell me, Aron, to which clan do you belong?"
Aron's gaze remained unwavering as he revealed his truth. "I belong to no clan," he stated firmly. "I forged my path alone, honing my skills and strength through countless bloody trials."
Skar's doubt flickered across his features, his eyes searching for any sign of deception. "A lone strider cub then," he murmured, his voice laced with skepticism. "It is rare to find a loner who has grown so powerful without the bonds of a clan. But you will find that here, in our domain, strength alone does not grant you authority."
He offered Aron a choice, his tone tinged with a mixture of challenge and warning. "Submit to us willingly," Skar proposed, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "Allow us to judge your actions once our Jor returns. Or resist, and face death by my hand."
Aron scoffed at the audacity of the offer, his eyes narrowing with confidence. He kicked Skar's unconscious son away, his actions a display of defiance. "You think you have the ability to make me submit?" he retorted, his voice dripping with poise. "Your children thought the same, it must be genetic disorder."
Skar's growl grew louder, his fury unleashed. His mana fluctuations rippled through the area, creating a swirling maelstrom of energy around him. The forest itself seemed to respond to his anger, the very essence of nature trembling in his presence.
With a thunderous roar, Skar launched himself at Aron, his attack fueled by a potent mix of strength and raw indignation.
Aron braced himself, his body tensed and ready for the impending clash. As Skar's massive form hurtled toward him, Aron crossed his arms over his chest, bracing for impact. The force of Skar's attack caused Aron to skid back a few meters, his feet digging into the ground. However, to Skar's surprise, Aron remained unharmed.
A confident smirk curled on Aron's lips as he taunted Skar. "Is that the best you can do?" he jeered, his voice laced with arrogance, purposefully trying make Skar angry so as to lessen his focus. "I expected more from you."
Aron's mana surged, causing the surrounding area to descend into chaos. The energy crackled in the air, swirling around him in a tempestuous display of power. Skar couldn't help but show a flicker of concern at the unleashed might before him, further fueling Aron's mockery.
"You call yourself strong, yet you tremble at the sight of my power," Aron mocked once again, his voice filled with biting sarcasm. "Your strength is nothing compared to mine."
Skar's eyes narrowed, a mixture of respect and fury gleaming within them. "I admit you possess some impressive strength, Aron of Limbo," Skar conceded, his voice carrying a grudging admiration. "Had you been born in our clan, I would be proud to give my daughter away to you and call you family."
Aron's expression remained unaffected as he delivered his biting response. "Weak women don't move me," he retorted, his words dripping with arrogance. "Perhaps I'll settle for your partner instead. She might have more fire in her."
Skar's fury reached its peak, his anger driving him to launch another relentless attack. Aron met him head-on, their fists colliding with a thunderous clash. The sheer shockwave sent both combatants hurtling backward, causing immense damage to the surrounding area.
Just then, a powerful male voice resounded, causing their bodies to tremble and freeze in their tracks. "Stop!" the voice commanded, its authority demanding obedience.
Skar immediately ceased his assault, his eyes locked on the source of the commanding voice. He welcomed the Jor, his tone filled with deference. "My Jor, it is a personal matter. Your intervention is not necessary."
The Jor appeared, his figure standing at a staggering 300cm tall. Long, flowing white hair cascaded down his broad shoulders, framing a weathered face adorned with a burly beard. His eyes gleamed with an ancient wisdom, and his aura radiated power that surpassed even Aron's.
The Jor's voice was deep and resonant, commanding attention and respect. "It is because this is a personal matter that I have intervened," he declared, his words carrying an air of finality. He turned his gaze to Skar. "That cub is my son."
Aron's eyes turned cold as he looked upon the man before him, his voice a mere whisper. "Father."
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