“Hm. New and improved curry.”
I’ll cook a batch up just for you.
Fran’s eyes lit up at the mention of it, her appetite blowing away her sleepiness. The effects were even more potent now that her beloved curry was involved. This buff wouldn’t last forever, but it should keep her awake long enough for her to receive her medal.
“Fran? Black Cat Fran? Please make your way to the podium.”
Go on.
“Hm.”
Fran walked up to the podium and received a medal from the viscount of Ulmutt. This was our first time meeting him. Apparently, Dias was the de facto ruler, and the viscount was only there as a formality. The man was lean, and didn’t seem disposed towards interfering in other people’s business. His meekness made him perfect for the position.
Fran’s medal had the Ulmutt crest on it, as well as the words “Third Place.” The prize money of one hundred thousand gold would come tomorrow.
“They were spectacular battles.”
“Hm.”
Fran was curt as usual, but I told her to give him an elegant bow, made possible by Royal Etiquette. There was quite a stir when the crowd saw the young star had impeccable bearing. It always paid to have good manners.
With the award ceremony over, we were summoned to see the Beast King again. He had taken up residence at the most expensive inn in town, going so far as to rent out the entire floor. The Adventurers’ Guild had called for her too, but Fran had questions to ask Rigdith first.
There were a number of beastmen outside his residence. I listened to their conversations, and gathered that they were nobles who had come to greet their king. However, he wasn’t one for such stuffy formalities, and they were all turned away at the door. They knew His Majesty’s ways. He probably did the same thing back home, which meant they’d visited despite knowing they would be turned away. I suppose ignoring your king was in bad taste, even if he didn’t feel like seeing you.
Of course, all of them knew Fran. She caused a commotion just by showing up. They gathered around her, though no one dared to say anything. Jet was back to his original size, and glared at anyone trying to approach. A low growl was all it took to give them second thoughts.
Fran passed through the crowd and entered the inn. Jet retreated back into her shadow as soon as they passed through the gates. I didn’t think we could see the Beast King without an appointment, but it turned out that Fran’s name was already on his guest list. He must’ve told reception to let her up. Rigdith was more considerate than I thought.
“Hey. You’re early.”
The Beast King was lying on his grand sofa. He had taken off his gear and was only wearing a plain white shirt and pants, giving him a wild look. Still, the gold ornaments decorating his clothes suggested that they weren’t cheap. The man looked like he belonged in a painting. He was like a lion lazing about in the savannah, while somehow managing to retain his royal aura. But Fran wasn’t interested in his appearance, and got closer so she could talk. “Tell me about Kiara.”
Yep, that’s my girl!
“I’m about to. Have a seat.”
“Hm.”
Fran sat in front of the Beast King, and Rosch got up to make tea. Rigdith slowly rubbed his chin, thinking about how to start. “I’ll have to talk about my old man first—the previous Beast King.”
“Sure.”
Fran straightened up and listened. The previous Beast King was called Velthus Narasimha, a paranoid man who was feared by his servants. His Evolution into a Golden Lion was only made possible with the help of other members of the royal family. He wasn’t a capable warrior, and he was just as bad at commanding his army. Physically and strategically, he was the weakest of all the Beast Kings.
His mad paranoia, coupled with his nonexistent talent, made him fear other members of his race. He exiled many of his subjects, weakening the Beastman Nation’s army in the process.
Velthus’ paranoid delusions reached their peak in his persecution of the Black Cats. Prejudice was decreasing before he came along, and beast tribes mostly left them to their own devices. But the paranoid king ordered the Blue Cats, both within and without the Beastman Nation, to capture and enslave the Black Cats. He was afraid of an uprising should one of the Black Cats ever evolve. Like him, they were of the Ten Tribes. Like him, they were feline. The king couldn’t afford to let sleeping tigers lie.
“In the end, it was my old man’s cowardice that made him stop at slavery.”
If Velthus wanted to stamp out the Black Cats for good, he should’ve ordered their genocide. But he was too afraid of incurring the wrath of the gods—or worse, the wrath of his fellow tribes. And he couldn’t shake off the feeling that one of them would survive and rise up to kill him.
“It prevented him from killing Kiara, at least.”
The king ordered her capture after receiving news from his Blue Cats outside the country. He hesitated to kill her, and besides, he could use her to set an example. He could nip their rebellious tendencies in the bud by showing that no one could oppose him—not even the strongest Black Cat of their tribe. Velthus could’ve employed the powerful Black Cat as his own servant, highlighting his influence. Instead, he made her clean drains.
Rigdith then repeated the part of the story we knew already.
“The Beast King held the other Black Cats hostage, and made Kiara into a slave.”
The incident with the enemy summoner happened when Kiara was in charge of waste disposal. That was where she met Rigdith, Gaudartha, and Royce. She hadn’t lost an ounce of her spirit, despite the long years of slavery. In fact, the scent of royal waste was far less pungent than the depths of a dungeon.
Slavery had forced the Black Cats to be more hardened to suffering than
