The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 640: To chase prey like this, you do not rush in with nets and chains while it is still deciding how to move

Chapter 640: Chapter 640: To chase prey like this, you do not rush in with nets and chains while it is still deciding how to move

His chest warmed without reason. He pressed a quiet hand over his own heart, steadying the faint tremor there.

Inside the stone palace, Isabella finally closed her eyes, her fingers still resting protectively over the snake mark.

She did not know what the rest of the prophecy said. She did not know what gates her future might open. She only knew one thing.

If the world dared to treat Cyrus like a key, then she would happily become the lock that refused to open.

Even if she had to bite every hand that reached for him.

Bubu watched her in the spiritual space, a small light hovering anxiously.

{...System note,} it muttered to itself. {Host’s protective instincts rising. Probability of future large-scale trouble: ninety nine point nine percent.}

Then it brightened cheerfully.

{Very good. This is what makes life interesting.}

Far away from the snow-wrapped village, the world looked completely different.

The sky above Fifth City was not clean white. It was a dull, heavy grey, stained permanently by years of smoke from furnaces that never slept. The city walls did not have Kian’s village’s honest, hand-laid stone. They rose high in smooth black layers, cold and polished, like a beast’s claws filed to perfection.

Inside those walls, at the very center, stood a tall structure built of dark stone and metal, its surface traced with faint spiritual patterns that glowed weakly like tired veins.

This was the core of Fifth City. The master’s den.

Inside the main hall, the air smelled of spiritual incense and old blood. Beastmen in masks knelt in neat lines across the floor, their heads bowed, their muscles tense. The torches on the walls flickered with blue-tinted flames, casting a strange cold light on their shoulders.

At the very top of the hall, on a raised platform, sat the master of Fifth City.

He was not particularly tall when seated, but the pressure he exuded made everyone feel like small animals crouching in front of a mountain. His hair was black with a faint red sheen at the tips, tied back loosely, and his eyes were the kind that always seemed to be smiling, even when his lips were not.

That kind of smile was the most dangerous.

A masked beastman knelt alone in the center, clearly the focus of attention. His mask had a different design from the others. Finer, more intricate. The mark of a squad leader.

"Report."

The master’s voice was not loud, yet it carried to every corner of the hall with ease.

"Yes, Master." The masked beastman bowed even lower. "Target R was confirmed alive. His strength has increased beyond previous records. He moved faster than our eyes could track. His aura also showed signs of... deviation."

"Deviation." The master tasted the word slowly, as if rolling wine on his tongue. "Explain."

The masked beastman swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet hall. "When one of the men insulted the village goddess and attempted to attack her, Target R’s spiritual fluctuation changed abruptly. His eyes turned fully pink, and his killing intent exploded. The air felt... choking. It was like standing too close to the mountain gates during storm readings."

Murmurs stirred faintly among the kneeling beastmen. They had all been at those gates. They knew exactly what that feeling meant.

"Yet he did not lose control?" the master asked.

The squad leader lowered his head further. "He killed the attacker in one move, then his aura slowly calmed. There was strain afterward. He seemed... shaken."

The master’s fingers tapped twice on the armrest of his seat. He seemed satisfied. "So the power awakens when he is emotionally provoked. Interesting. And the goddess?"

At this, the masked beastman hesitated. "The village’s ’goddess’ is... difficult to describe."

A faint, amused breath escaped the master’s lips. "Try."

"She is a female with spiritual presence unlike any ordinary beast. The villagers call her ’goddess’ and follow her instructions. She has constructed a stone palace. She organizes defenses. She uses a strange fan as a weapon, with wind-based attacks stronger than a normal spiritual tool. She is also..." The man paused again.

"Pretty?" the master guessed lazily.

The masked beastman stiffened. "...Yes."

"And? You hesitate as if that was not the main point."

"She is pregnant," he finally said. "Visibly so. The entire village treats her as their center. Target R is bound to her. There is a mark on her chest that reacted when his aura changed. We suspect it is a high-level mating or spiritual bond."

The hall grew even more silent.

The master leaned back slowly. His eyes narrowed, the faint red in them deepening. "A Red Beast bound to a mysterious fertile goddess in some small village that suddenly repelled an elite test squad. What a charming story."

Someone at the side could not hold back a tiny breath. It was not fear. It was greed. Power stories like this were what Fifth City was built on.

The master heard that breath clearly. His lips curved in a small smile that held no warmth.

"Rise," he said to the masked squad leader. "You did not bring back the target I wanted, but you brought back something more valuable."

The man slowly got to his feet, head still bowed. "Your instructions, Master?"

The master lifted his hand. A servant stepped forward immediately, placing a thin metal scroll in his palm. With a casual movement, he popped it open. A faint projection lit up in front of him, showing rough sketches and short notes. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. A slender female with a rounded belly and a fan in hand. Crude, but enough.

He stared at the images for a long moment, fingers resting thoughtfully against each other.

"To chase prey like this," he said at last, "you do not rush in with nets and chains while it is still deciding how to move."

He closed the scroll with a snap. The sound echoed across the hall. His eyes darkened and a grim formed on his face.