CHAPTER 114: CH 114: SCENT OF BETRAYAL- PART 1

The moment Fenrir stepped out of the dungeon, he moved like a shadow—silent and deadly.

The monsters that had attacked the decoy sword never even saw him coming. Within seconds, Fenrir had dispatched a dozen.

A few turned to flee, only to be impaled mid-step. The others tried to fight, but their claws and teeth were no match for his spear and precision.

In less than a minute, two dozen monsters lay dead at his feet.

But even then, Fenrir didn’t lower his weapon.

Instead, his eyes turned to a patch of thick bushes just a few feet away.

His senses had caught it—the subtle shift in mana, the way the leaves had moved slightly against the breeze.

He tightened his grip and called out.

"You’ve got three seconds to walk out, or I’ll drag you out myself."

There was a pause. Then, a nervous voice piped up.

"No need for violence! We mean you no harm!"

A female voice said quickly.

From behind the bush, two figures emerged, hands raised.

They looked... strange. Hybrids. A mix between tiger and human. Their faces were soft and humanoid, but their golden eyes gleamed with feline intensity.

Their skin was covered in striped fur, and they walked upright, tall and alert.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes.

"Start talking. Why were you watching me? What do you want?"

The taller of the two spoke first, glancing at her companion before addressing him.

"We didn’t mean to spy. We just... wanted to see if you were truly as strong as you seemed."

"And?"

Fenrir asked flatly.

"You are. Stronger than we hoped for."

The second female said without hesitation.

Fenrir raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"And what does that mean for me?"

The pair hesitated for a moment before the first one stepped forward again.

"Our clan—the Emberclaws—is being hunted. Another hybrid clan, the Ironmanes, has taken control of the southern half of this floor. They’re brutal, unforgiving. They enslave the weaker clans, and now they’ve come for us."

Fenrir folded his arms.

"Sounds like a you problem."

The women flinched, but he didn’t stop.

"I’m not a mercenary, and I don’t do charity. Go find someone else."

They exchanged a desperate look.

"But we have something to offer. Something your kind would consider... priceless."

The second one said quickly.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

Fenrir tilted his head.

"The ultimate power of our people. A blessing passed down from generation to generation. It’s sealed, and only those we deem worthy can claim it. If you help us, we will offer it to you willingly."

The first hybrid said, voice firm.

Fenrir didn’t respond immediately.

He studied them carefully. They didn’t look like they were lying, and more importantly, their desperation was genuine.

He could see it in their trembling hands, their lowered gazes. Whatever they were offering wasn’t just a bargaining chip—it was something sacred.

Still, that didn’t mean he was interested.

"I don’t make deals I don’t understand. And I don’t trust words. Show me proof. Otherwise, get lost."

Fenrir said coldly.

The two tigers looked at each other again, then back at him.

"We can take you to our clan. Let you see with your own eyes. If you don’t like what you see, you can leave. We won’t stop you."

One said.

Fenrir remained silent for a long moment, weighing his options.

He’d wanted to avoid distractions on this floor, but if this "ultimate power" was even half as valuable as they claimed, it might be worth the detour.

After all, power was the one currency that never failed him in this tower.

Finally, he sighed and lowered his weapon.

"You have one chance. Lead the way. But if I smell a trap—"

He said.

"There won’t be. We swear it."

The taller one assured him quickly.

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed.

"We’ll see."

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the two tiger-like hybrids.

"We promise not to betray us if you listen to us."

Their furred tails flicked nervously behind them, and while their expressions were full of relief, his instincts screamed otherwise.

Still, their earlier mention of an "ultimate power" continued to echo in his mind.

The system had said nothing about any such blessing or power on this floor. Not a hint or a marker.

But he wasn’t about to forget that the system had already missed several key pieces of information before—especially regarding hidden ruins or fragments of his past power.

So maybe... just maybe, it missed something again.

"I’m listening. But I’ll only help if what you’re offering is truly worth my time."

Fenrir finally said, his voice calm but laced with caution.

The shorter of the two hybrids sighed in visible relief.

"Thank you. We promise you won’t regret this."

"Just lead the way."

Fenrir replied flatly.

The pair turned and began walking ahead, tails swaying behind them as they moved quickly through the dense jungle.

Fenrir followed at a measured pace, his senses sharp. Something felt off. The land around them was too quiet, the birds silent, the wind heavy.

The further they went, the stronger the unease in his gut grew.

His instincts weren’t whispering anymore—they were yelling.

’This is a setup.’

He couldn’t explain it.

No tangible evidence, no traps sprung yet, no sudden shift in mana around them.

But Fenrir had learned long ago not to ignore that voice inside him, the one that kept him alive in battle after battle.

These two weren’t warriors, and yet they walked with a strange calm. Too calm, considering they were supposedly leading him into a war-torn situation.

Still, he said nothing. If it was a trap, he’d just deal with it.

Eventually, the forest thinned out, revealing a barren stretch of land. No structures. No guards. No hybrid warriors.

Just cracked earth, overgrown weeds, and a single large stone sitting in the center of the desolate space.

"This is it. Our clan is hidden behind that stone."

The taller female said, gesturing toward the rock.

Fenrir glanced at her, unimpressed.

"You’re telling me your entire clan is behind a rock?"

"It’s not just a rock. It’s a seal—a powerful one. It hides our people from invaders and those who would harm us."

The second one said quickly.

"Of course it does."

Fenrir said dryly.

He stepped toward the boulder, eyeing it with narrowed eyes.

The system didn’t mark anything special. No seal. No hidden mana signature. No warnings. It was... a rock.

But as he stood in front of it, he placed his hand on the surface.

Nothing.

Not even the faint hum of magic.

Fenrir turned back to the women, who were both watching him with too much interest.

"You said I’d feel a ’special power’ just by touching this thing."

"You will, once you move it."

The taller one replied quickly.

Fenrir looked back at the rock, then at his hand. Still nothing.

He could practically see the scam now. Move the rock, get ambushed.

Or maybe moving the rock triggered something else entirely. His instincts flared harder than ever. This wasn’t just off—it was wrong.

But... he was curious now. Even if this was a trap, it might tell him something about who was trying to deceive him. So he made his decision.

"Fine. Let’s see what happens when I move it."

He muttered.

He grabbed the rock with both hands, and as he prepared to lift it, he muttered under his breath.

"This better be good... or someone’s losing a tail."