Chapter 250: Marks of a Monster

The air around the masked auditor began warping violently, emitting a high-pitched hum that rattled the frozen ground. Realizing the legion’s defeat was absolute and that remaining a second longer meant death, the youth burned every drop of his vital mana.

BOOOOOOM!

A sonic boom echoed across the valley, kicking up a wall of snow and shattered rock. The iron-masked fighter turned into a line of light that cleaved through the gorge at high speed, tearing through the beasts’ encirclement in a thousandth of a second and disappearing over the horizon toward the fortress.

The white blur reacted instantly, streaking through the air like lightning in an attempt to intercept him before he escaped range. Yet even she couldn’t stop him; the auditor’s frantic acceleration bypassed physical limits.

The howling wind gradually settled over the red-stained snow. A moment later, the white trail materialized a few yards from Kellar. Freyja emerged from the movement, revealing herself as a small, white cat. Her breathing was heavy as she rested her weight on her small paws.

Kellar rushed over to her, stowing his club while searching her face with concern.

"Freyja... did you hold back? Did you restrain yourself?" asked Kellar, his voice strained with worry that she hadn’t gone for the kill from the start.

Freyja shook her white head, her eyes never leaving the path where the enemy had fled.

"No... I didn’t hold back for a second, Master," replied Freyja in a soft voice. "That man was truly powerful."

Stepping within two paces and kneeling beside her, Kellar caught the details that ordinary eyes had missed during the chaos of battle. Freyja’s pristine white fur was marred by thin red lines tracing cuts along her small body. The iron-masked auditor hadn’t merely defended himself; in every invisible clash, he had read the wind’s current and sought to kill the cat at every opening he found to counter.

Kellar gently scooped Freyja into his arms, nestling her against his chest before spinning on his heels and sprinting toward the spot where Grok’s body lay.

A pool of crimson blood was spreading across the frozen snow. Grok lay on his side, his torso drenched in blood and the stump of his right arm cleanly severed at shoulder height, pulsing blood at a rate. The pallor on the giant’s face indicated he had mere moments left to live.

"WHERE IS HIS ARM?!" roared Kellar, his eyes bloodshot as he dropped to his knees beside his bodyguard.

Brak and the captains scrambled through the blood-stained snow. In less than a second, Thorin retrieved the severed limb lying yards away and rushed it straight to Kellar.

Without wasting a moment, Kellar grabbed the severed arm, aligned it over the exposed shoulder wound, and pressed both sections together, matching the blood vessels and torn flesh.

"[Heal]!" declared Kellar in a raspy tone, funneling all his mana straight into his palms.

An emerald-green light erupted from the shaman’s fingertips, enveloping the shoulder joint. Flesh, veins, and muscle fibers began twisting and knitting back together at speed. Under the surge of his spell, the tissues reattached, leaving behind a thick scar where the amputation had just been.

Color returned to the giant’s lips. Grok let out a raspy groan as his chest rose once more with steady breaths. He weakly twitched the fingers of his reattached right hand, feeling his nerves reconnecting.

"The... Great Shaman... is safe..." rasped Grok, barely cracking an eye open before succumbing to exhaustion and pain.

As Kellar finished stabilizing Grok, the heavy thud of footsteps signaled the return of Boran, Brak’s substitute commander, alongside the White Tiger King, who had been leading the pursuit against the legion’s stragglers. Upon seeing Grok breathing with his arm reattached to his shoulder, both let out a huff of astonishment and relief.

"Praise the Great Bear God and the ancestors!" exclaimed Boran, striking his chest with his clenched fist in reverence toward Kellar’s magic. "I saw when that bastard severed his limb... I thought we had lost him."

The White Tiger King stepped forward, his eyes burning with ferocity and his claws dripping with blood.

"Great Shaman, we couldn’t catch them all. As they broke ranks, the legion scattered through the forest to save their lives," reported the White Tiger King, baring his fangs in anger. "Let me avenge my children, Great Shaman. I know this forest like the palm of my hand. Give the order, and we will hunt down and slaughter as many as we can before they escape."

Kellar stared out into the snow-covered forest thicket, remembering the thin bloodlines on Freyja’s fur and the masked auditor’s acceleration.

"No," stated Kellar, raising a hand to halt the beast leader’s impulse. "That monster with the mask is still out there. It will be far too dangerous. If you run into him in the darkness of the woods, he will slaughter you all."

The White Tiger King clenched his jaws, insisting:

"But, my lord... if we let them escape, they will bring even more of them."

"Even if we pursue them, the guy in the iron mask will cover them from the shadows," explained Kellar in a calm tone. "His speed is insane; it would take him a fraction of a second to decapitate half of your hunters before they could react. I won’t sacrifice the lives of our warriors to hunt down terrified soldiers who have lost their spirit to fight."

The great tiger flattened his ears back and let out a growl, though the yellow glint in his eyes showed he understood the logic of his leader.

"Then what do we do, Master?" asked Boran, stepping forward alongside Brak.

Kellar turned his gaze toward the open gates of the village, then toward the corpses and discarded gear left behind by the legion in their retreat.

"We consolidate our position," ordered Kellar. "Brak, send the captains to secure the village perimeter and gather all the weapons, armor, and supplies the Golden Rose left on the battlefield. Lennis needs to inspect the enemy gear to see what materials we can repurpose."

He then turned to the white beast.

"Your hunters know the forest better than anyone. Instead of chasing ghosts in the dark, deploy defensive patrols along the territory’s edge. Secure the mountain passes and report any movement from the fortress. If they try to regroup, they will find us equipped and waiting."

The White Tiger King gave a nod.

"Understood, Great Shaman. My pack will secure every corner of the forest line. No one will cross without us knowing," said the White Tiger King.

"Take Grok back to the village so he can rest," added Kellar, glancing at his bodyguard, who was sleeping deeply after the healing process. "We won the battle, but the war against the kingdom isn’t over. We need to be ready for whatever comes next."