The Beastkin (4)

The boy crouched low, his claws flexed and ready, his breaths coming in steady, focused draws. He met the gaze of the pink-haired knight before him—this Valeria—and felt an unexpected stillness in the air.

Her stance was solid, that big sword gleaming with mana, yet her expression was unreadable. He searched her eyes for the hostility he was accustomed to, the sneer of superiority he had seen in every opponent before her. But there was none. Her gaze was calm and focused, but devoid of hatred.

His teeth clenched in frustration. Why was she just standing there, watching him with those calm, unwavering eyes? Was she mocking him? Did she think he wasn't worth the effort? A low growl rumbled from his chest, his body tensing as he prepared to charge. Whatever her intentions, he had no choice. He needed to win. This wasn't just another fight—it was his chance at survival.