CHAPTER 309: RETURN

"What’s this barren existence?" Isla spoke through disgust and contempt, her nose wrinkling as she glared at the land before us. Bare, more than bare—barrenness personified.

Although we had come from another area, another angle in the community that allowed the magic of teleportation so our identities remained concealed from the pack, we had still been met with this accursed earth.

In the fading sunlight, it looked worse. Lifeless. Hopeless.

I pitied the land now really; I could almost hear it groaning, grunting, wishing for an escape from the hands of death and nothingness, decay that clung like rot.

"Something the entire pack will be like soon..." I muttered finally, cloaking our voices with magic in case any guard from the pack was loitering about.

Isla’s eyes dragged from the desolation, landing on me with a flicker of unease. "What happened here though? It’s too..."

"Deathful."

"Yes, that." Her lips twisted. "If that’s an English word, I think it would best describe this place."

She wasn’t wrong.

"How many souls were lost here?"

I was already moving toward the bushy path ahead, which bore the signs of recent passage. Many feet had treaded it—likely those who came from far and near to participate or witness the combat sessions.

"I’m not sure," I said. "But I know it was caused by the war between my community and the pack. They wanted what the community couldn’t give. Well, hopefully, they’ll soon experience that same lack in the hands of the vampires."

Isla hastened her steps until she was walking beside me.

"Aren’t you concerned though... about the consequences of the vampires running amok?"

I shrugged, pulling my cloak tighter. "Not really. We can take care of ourselves."

She sighed, tension in her shoulders. "You seem to be forgetting they infiltrated your community. They could’ve easily infiltrated mine too..." A pause. "Sage, their powers are out of this world."

I snorted. "As is mine, Isla. Do you want to turn back? I can cast the teleportation spell, send you home."

"And miss all the fun?" she scoffed, though her laugh was thinner, nervous. "I’d rather not. Besides, I want to watch you carry out the Queen’s commands—dispensing justice as it should be, especially on the triplets."

Her lips curved into a grin. "Though, I wish I could join the fights too. I’m sure it will be worth my while."

"I can put your name down when we reach the registration unit. I don’t think it’d be considered strange if you did so, seeing as we’re attending as friends—"

But her laugh cut me off. Nervous again, shaky.

Coward. I mused silently, drawing my hood up, the deep green cloak shadowing my face.

Isla mirrored my motion but froze when her eyes caught what I already had: two guards posted at the end of the bushy path.

"Where are you two from? And where are you heading to?"

The first guard—unfamiliar, unremarkable—scanned us from head to toe when we got to their post. His gaze lingered too long, unimpressed, as though we were wanderers who had lost our way.

"We are here for the competitions," I answered evenly, pulling the forged cards of invitation from my satchel and offering them forward.

The guard furrowed his brows, inspecting the cards, then glanced at his companion.

"They’re actually participating in the fights, or rather this one is..." he muttered, the words directed to his fellow—a senior official, judging by the weight of his stance.

The senior met my gaze, his frown measured. "Then, they are welcome aboard. It is not our position to judge or advise." His voice was steady, even, as though deliberately detached. "Welcome to the Lycan regions of Portak. I wish you well on your sojourn here."

I inclined my head in a curt nod. Isla followed suit, offering a smile that came across as too eager.

"Where do we head from here?" I asked before suspicion could brew, careful not to reveal too much. Heading straight toward the central pack area immediately would make it obvious this wasn’t my first time here.

"Keep heading straight. You’ll meet another round of guards. They’ll tell you what to do next."

Another nod and I was on my way, my cloak sweeping dust from the ground. Behind me, I heard Isla’s syrupy thanks directed at the guards, and I nearly scoffed aloud at her warmth.

"It will be funnier if one of us is crazy," she whispered as she caught up, as she entangled our arms, "and the other is... well, amicable, warm."

I disentangled my arm from hers sharply. "I suggest you don’t push the boundaries much. I might snap." A pause, my eyes narrowing. "And trust me—you don’t want to see that."

Her only reply was an exaggerated roll of her eyes, exasperation etched clear.

Still, I knew I’d chosen well. She was tolerable enough—for now.

"Do you think there will be rooms reserved for fighters?" she asked as we trailed the next set of guards, their words echoing the instructions of the previous.

"Maybe. Surely they won’t leave us in the open air," I mused. "That would be uncultured of them."

My gaze flicked here and there as we moved. Like the community, the Lycans had adopted more human technologies—clever contraptions, tools that sped work and eased burdens. I didn’t get theirs though. They needn’t conserve their strength, after all.

"Here."

The guard pointed toward a section marked off from the bustling street. Tall gates loomed, blocking any glimpse of what lay behind them.

"This is where all the fighters stay. There will be a general meeting by tomorrow morning, once all fighters have arrived." He paused, his young eyes scanning us with the same half-curious, half-dismissive look the others had given. "Good luck on the fights."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving us standing before the gates—conspicuous, the focus of too many eyes.

Passersby lingered, staring. Whispers floated.

Two lanky women at the fighter’s quarters?

Pleasure givers.

I scoffed when one woman’s lip curled in disgust.

Of course, that’s what they were thinking.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, tightening my hold. "Let’s go in, Isla," I said, voice low, "before these barbarians decide to approach us about our prices for one mad night."