CHAPTER 998: CHAPTER 152 - THE RABBITMAN TRIBE (3)

The moment her foot slammed into my blade, the earth itself seemed to tremble beneath my boots. A deafening clang erupted, echoing through the forest like thunder. From the edge of the blade all the way down to my arms, I felt a violent surge of vibration rip through my body—raw, wild, and unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The shock traveled deep into my bones, numbing my fingers for a brief second, as if the air itself had exploded between us.

My grip faltered slightly, and I clenched my teeth just to keep the sword from flying out of my hands. Thank the gods I wasn’t using Ayuru as my weapon this time. If I had, she probably would’ve snapped in half—or worse, shattered into pieces. This sword wasn’t anything special either; just a cheap copper blade I got from Lionel, one of those throwaway weapons meant for training or emergencies. Yet somehow, it was holding up better than I expected. Still, that didn’t mean much when she was hitting me with that kind of power. Her kick carried enough force to make the blade bend, creak under the pressure, and then—snap!—it broke clean in two.

The moment it split, I pushed off the ground instinctively, spinning my body back and putting distance between us. Dust kicked up from the impact, scattering through the air.

Tilde stood there, her hair and ears swaying slightly, her expression unreadable. "This isn’t all you’ve got, is it?" she said with a tone that mixed amusement and disdain. "Why are you stalling when you can probably defeat me if you actually tried?"

I let out a small smirk, trying to mask the tension in my chest. "Well, I don’t want to hurt a pretty lady like you."

Her eyes sharpened instantly. "So that’s what this is about, huh? Because I’m a woman—and a rabbit woman—you think I’m weak? You’re saying you don’t want to hurt me because you pity me?"

The edge in her voice was clear, and I couldn’t blame her. I expected that reaction. Rabbit women were often seen as fragile, easy targets—less threatening than other beastkin. But she was different, and she knew it. Every muscle in her body screamed of discipline and strength. She’d trained hard for that power, fought for that recognition, and the last thing she wanted was someone treating her like she needed protection.

"I’m not saying that at all," I said, straightening my stance. "I just don’t want to hurt a lady. That’s all. Don’t mistake it for underestimating you."

She scoffed, her gaze narrowing. "It sounds like you’re underestimating me. But I wonder if you’ll still think that once you see what I can really do."

The second those words left her lips—she vanished.

No warning. No sound. One blink, and she was gone.

I tightened my stance, every muscle in my body tensed. A rush of wind swept past my cheek—and then she was behind me again. Damn, she loved doing that. The speed at which she moved was absurd. But then again, she was a rabbit woman. Agility was their gift, their instinctual advantage. Their entire race was known for their ability to evade danger. Where others stood their ground, rabbitmen fled, relying on their reflexes and speed to survive.

But Tilde? She had turned that survival instinct into a weapon. Her movements were sharp, precise—almost elegant. She spun midair, flipped off branches, and used the trees as stepping stones to propel herself forward. Each strike she made carried both grace and ferocity. The forest around us blurred into streaks of motion as she darted between the shadows, leaving behind nothing but afterimages and gusts of wind.

She was fast—so fast that keeping track of her was becoming harder by the second. I wasn’t losing, but I could feel the margin narrowing.

"The speed and agility of rabbitmen were given to us because we were weak in combat," she said, her voice cutting through the air as she moved. "That’s why we were enslaved, hunted like animals. Even though we’re beastkin—superior to humans in every way—they still looked down on us. They acted as if they were gods and we were nothing." Her tone darkened, her eyes burning with anger. "But that era is over. Once all rabbitmen rise, when we’ve trained our bodies and mastered our speed, we’ll crush them. We’ll show them who the real predators are. We’ll bring war to their doorsteps!"

Her voice rang through the forest, raw and full of conviction.

And honestly? The idea scared me a bit. The rabbitmen population was massive—nearly half of the Great Forest’s entire number. If they ever managed to unite and train under one cause, they could easily rival entire kingdoms. The Bethlan Kingdom itself might not stand a chance against their sheer numbers.

But at the same time, the Empire wasn’t weak either. If those two clashed, it would be a bloodbath. The rabbitmen might get wiped out completely, but they’d take countless soldiers with them. Still... if they trained like Tilde—if they could move like her—they could become an unstoppable army. Agile, intelligent, and fast-breeding. Literally. They weren’t called rabbitmen for nothing—they fucked like rabbits, multiplying faster than anyone could control.

Tilde darted in again, her strikes growing more aggressive. Each swing was clean and fast, aimed with precision. She attacked from every angle—above, below, behind—never giving me a moment to breathe. Every time she made contact, she’d retreat just as fast, only to come back for another round.

But after repeating the same pattern several times, she started to notice something.

No matter how much she pressed the attack, no matter how many times she lunged, I wasn’t striking back. I wasn’t panicking or flinching—I was only deflecting. Every slash, every kick, every hit she threw—I redirected it effortlessly with what was left of my broken sword. The remains of that copper blade gleamed faintly under the light, a jagged piece of metal still holding strong in my grip.

And that’s when I saw it—just for a brief second—her eyes widened. She realized it.