CHAPTER 997: CHAPTER 152 - THE RABBITMAN TRIBE (2)

"And so? What does the Rabbitman tribe want here?" Lionel finally asked, his tone carrying that mix of authority and curiosity he was known for.

The woman turned her head toward him, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Her long ears twitched slightly, and her crimson eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark.

"We came here after hearing the rumors," she began, her voice soft but confident. "They said a human male was going around trying to rally all the tribes—to unite every race and kingdom in the Great Forest under one cause." She let out a light chuckle, shaking her head slightly as her hair swayed in the wind. "Honestly, it sounded ridiculous. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what sort of person would even think of attempting something so insane. But then... when I heard that even the King of the Beastmen accepted it—actually agreed to cooperate—I couldn’t resist coming here myself. I had to see what kind of man could make the impossible sound believable."

Her gaze locked onto me, sharp and curious, almost playful. "And now that I see you with my own eyes... I get it. This man must be something else if he even managed to get you on his side."

Her words hit with a strange weight, and I felt the eyes around us shift slightly in my direction. I didn’t know how far the stories about me had spread, but apparently far enough to reach even the outskirts of the Rabbitman tribe. Still, it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t the kind of guy to waste time worrying about gossip.

Then, out of nowhere, she tilted her head and asked, "Would you permit me to have a duel with you?"

"A duel?" I echoed, raising a brow.

"Yes," she replied, her grin widening slightly. "You’re strong—I can feel it. The way you moved earlier in the market, the speed, the timing... it was perfect. It actually made me lose my breath for a second. I want to see for myself what kind of man has enough power and charisma to make the Great Forest stir."

"I see..." I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Then let me ask something first. If we do this, would you be willing to agree to my proposal afterward?"

She gave a teasing smile. "That depends on how long you can keep up with me, I suppose."

"I see... then let’s duel."

A rabbitwoman asking for a duel wasn’t something that happened every day, and honestly, I couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not. But one thing was certain—I wasn’t going to walk away from this.

"Can I ask your name before we start?" I asked.

"My name?" she echoed. She placed a hand over her chest, straightening her posture with a proud little smirk. "Hmm... alright then. My name is Tilde. And you?"

"Leon."

"I see... well then, Leon," she said, eyes glimmering, "I challenge you to a duel."

And with that, the duel between the two of us began.

***

The place chosen for our duel was deep in the forest, surrounded by towering trees whose thick roots coiled around the soil like veins. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy, scattering golden beams across the clearing. The air was cool, thick with the scent of moss and bark, and the faint murmur of the wind brushed against my skin.

A crowd had gathered around the perimeter, forming a loose circle of spectators. Their expressions were filled with a mix of excitement and curiosity—some whispering among themselves, others simply waiting in silence. Lionel stood near the edge, his arms crossed, eyes sharp and watchful. From the look on his face, he seemed to be enjoying this far more than he’d admit.

Tilde stood across from me, holding two blades—slender, curved, and gleaming under the filtered light. Her stance was confident yet natural, the kind that only came from experience. She looked every bit like a warrior, but there was something raw about her movements—unrefined but deadly. It wasn’t the kind of stance you learned from training. It was something born from instinct, from years of surviving.

Then came the sharp sound of the horn—a deep echo that cut through the air and signaled the start of the duel.

The moment it sounded, she was gone.

Not vanished, but so fast that my eyes barely registered the movement. Only the faint scorch of her footprints and a thin wisp of dust rising from the ground hinted at where she had been.

I felt it—an instant shift in the air behind me. My body moved before my mind caught up. I spun around, my blade meeting hers in a loud metallic clash. Sparks scattered as steel ground against steel.

That was close. If I’d reacted even a second slower, that strike might’ve cut clean through me. She was fast—insanely fast. Not only that, but she had an uncanny ability to completely erase her presence.

After our blades locked, she pushed off with surprising force, flipping backward in a graceful arc. My eyes caught a brief flash of black beneath her skirt—her panties. It was so quick it felt like my brain lagged for a second, and then she landed softly, her movements fluid and balanced like she’d done it a thousand times.

She was agile. Too agile. Watching her reminded me a bit of Bernadette. No... not quite. Bernadette was sharp, precise—a trained assassin with a perfect sense of timing. Tilde was different. Her movements were wild, primal, and unpredictable, yet they carried a strange elegance. She wasn’t polished, but she was fierce, natural—like she was born for this. And considering she was a rabbitwoman, that made it even more shocking.

"You must be a little surprised, huh?" she said, flashing a grin. "To see a rabbitwoman fight like this?"

"Well, yeah," I replied with a smirk of my own. "But not so surprised that I can’t handle it."

She laughed, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "The Rabbitman tribe has always been seen as the weakest among the Beastkin. That’s why slavers target us—we’re easy to capture and sell. And, well..."—she gave a sly smirk—"...we’re very good at procreating. My people love it, really. Because of that, our numbers are much higher than most of the other beastfolk. But fighting? No, that’s not something we’re known for. We were never born to be warriors. The only thing we were ever good at was running—escaping danger, outrunning monsters and humans alike."

Her tone hardened as she adjusted her grip on her blades, her legs bending slightly.

"But I decided to change that. I use the same agility we’re born with—not to run away, but to fight. To strike. To survive. That’s why I can hold my own now, even against our strongest predators."

And before I could respond, she jumped.

Her leap was explosive, tearing through the air as her form blurred against the light. She shot upward like a cannon, her momentum twisting her body midair. Then, with her leg drawn back, she came crashing down toward me, her foot cutting through the wind like a falling blade.