Beast Evolution Forge

Sara stumbled into her private training room, her hands still trembling. The shards of her broken blade lay scattered across her desk, each piece a reminder of her humiliation. Three days had passed since her defeat, but the memory remained raw.

"My lady," her attendant spoke softly from the doorway, "Guild Master Lyon requests your presence."

She laughed bitterly. "To mock me, no doubt."

"He... he mentioned having information about Vell."

Her head snapped up. "When?"

"Now, if possible."

The walk to Lyon's office felt endless. Whispers followed her through the corridors—the mighty Lightning Blade, brought low by a nobody. She kept her head high, but each murmur was like a knife in her back.

Guild Master Lyon's office occupied the highest floor of the Lightning Guild tower. The old man sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, watching her with sharp eyes.

"You look terrible," he said bluntly.

"Thank you for your concern," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You had information?"

He nodded, sliding a folder across his desk. "Our investigators found something interesting. Every record of Vell's previous matches shows the same pattern—he loses pathetically, but anyone who fights him afterward performs significantly worse in their next matches. Some even quit fighting altogether."

Sara's hands clenched. "He's been playing us all along."

"Indeed. But here's what's truly concerning," his expression darkened. "We can't find any record of his existence before six months ago. No birth records, no citizenship papers, nothing. It's as if he appeared out of thin air."

"That's impossible. The city's registration system—"

"Is supposedly unbeatable, yes." He stood, walking to his window. "Unless you have power beyond what we mere mortals can comprehend."

She felt a chill run down her spine, remembering those eyes. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting," he turned to face her, "that we might be dealing with something far more dangerous than a skilled fighter. And I need to know if you're willing to help us find out what."

She thought of her broken pride. "What do you need me to do?"

"Watch him. Get close to him. He clearly has a plan, but his act isn't perfect. He slipped up with you—showed you something he shouldn't have. Maybe he'll slip up again."

"And if he catches me?"

His expression was grim. "Then pray he's feeling merciful."

She left the office with a new purpose, her fear transforming into determination. As she walked through the Lower District's winding streets, she found herself glancing up at the towering spires of the Upper City that pierced the clouds above.

Power like Vell's... she'd only heard whispers of such things from traders who ventured to the higher levels, where the true masters of their world dwelled. Their district, massive as it seemed to its residents, was merely a speck in the shadow of the true metropolis that stretched beyond mortal comprehension.

'Is he one of those tower climbers?'

She pushed the thoughts aside. Whether he was some fallen noble from the upper levels or something else entirely, she would uncover his secret, whatever the cost.

"Your usual?" the barmaid asked, smiling warmly.

She studied her carefully. "You bet on him, didn't you? Before both matches. You knew."

The beast girl's smile never wavered, but something flickered in her eyes. "Sometimes you just get lucky."

"No," Sara leaned forward, lowering her voice. "You know what he is. And I'm going to find out."

For a moment, the barmaid's cheerful mask slipped, revealing something terrible beneath. Then it was gone, replaced by that same innocent smile.

"Be careful what you wish for, Lightning Blade. Some truths are better left buried."

Sara left the bar with shaking hands but strengthened resolve. Tomorrow, Vell would fight again. And this time, she would watch with new eyes, catching every detail, every slip in his mask.

What she didn't notice was the shadow that followed her home, or the way the city's very air seemed to grow heavier with each step she took toward the truth.

In his hidden chamber, Vell examined a complex array of magical circles, each pulsing with dark energy. "It seems our Lightning Blade is getting curious," he mused.

The beast girl materialized from the shadows. "Should I deal with her?"

"No," he smiled, and it was nothing like his public persona. "Let her dig. The deeper she goes, the better it serves our purpose."
Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire

"And when she discovers the truth?"

His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. "Then she'll will simply meet her end."

Sara spent the night poring over old tournament records, her desk littered with reports from previous matches. Her fingers traced the edges of her shattered blade as she read, a habit she'd developed these past few days.

The pattern was there, just as Lyon had said. Every fighter who faced Vell seemed to lose their edge afterward. But there was something else, something that made her blood run cold. The decline wasn't random—it was precise, calculated. Each fighter's fall from grace followed a perfect curve, as if orchestrated by an unseen hand.

Dawn found her in the arena's viewing gallery, watching Vell's next match. Her opponent was Marc the Unbreakable, famous for his impenetrable defense. The match began as they all did—Vell stumbling, apparently overwhelmed by Marc's shield techniques.

But this time, Sara watched differently. She tracked every movement, every "accident." And slowly, a pattern emerged. Each clumsy dodge placed Marc exactly where he wanted him. Each fumbled strike forced specific defensive positions.

'He's not just beating them,' she realized with growing horror. 'He's studying them. Learning their techniques, their limits...'

"Quite the performance, isn't it?"

Sara spun to find the beast girl beside her, her ever-present smile somehow more unsettling than before.

"Why are they here?" She demanded.

She tilted her head, her tail swishing lazily behind her. "Why is anyone here? To watch the matches, of course. Isn't that what we all do?"

Sara's eyes narrowed. "Don't play games with me. You know what I mean. Why is he here? What does he want?"

Her smile didn't falter, but her gaze sharpened, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Some people just enjoy the thrill of competition. Isn't that enough?"

"No," Sara snapped, her voice low but fierce. "This isn't about competition. He's not here to win. He's here to... to break people. To destroy them. I've seen it. I've felt it."

The beast girl's expression softened, but there was no warmth in it. "You're smarter than most, Lightning Blade. But sometimes, being smart isn't enough. Sometimes, it's better not to ask questions you don't want the answers to."

Sara stepped closer, her fists clenched. "I'm not afraid of him or you. Whatever you are, whatever he is, I'll find out the truth."

For a moment, the beast girl's cheerful mask slipped, and Sara caught a glimpse of something dangerous behind.

"Brave words," she said, her tone light but her eyes piercing. "But bravery won't save you if you push too far. Some doors, once opened, can't be closed."

Sara opened her mouth to retort, but the crowd erupted in cheers, drawing her attention back to the arena. Vell just landed a seemingly accidental blow that sent Marc staggering. The Unbreakable's shield, once thought impenetrable, now bore a deep crack.

The beast girl leaned in, her voice a whisper in Sara's ear. "Watch closely, Lightning Blade. You might learn something. Or... you might regret it."

Before she could respond, the beast girl was gone, disappearing into the crowd as if she'd never been there. Her heart pounded as she turned back to the match, her mind racing.

In the arena, Vell stumbled again, his sword slipping from his grasp. Marc, seeing an opening, charged forward with a roar, his shield raised high. But at the last moment, Vell twisted, his movements too fast to follow. His hand shot out, catching Marc's wrist, and with a single, precise motion, he disarmed the Unbreakable.

The crowd fell silent as Marc's shield clattered to the ground. Vell stood there, looking as awkward and nervous as ever, but Sara saw the truth now. His clumsiness was a facade, a carefully crafted act designed to hide the predator beneath.

The announcer's voice broke the silence. "V-Vell wins again! Another shocking victory!"

Sara's hands trembled as she watched him bow awkwardly to the crowd. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Lyon was right—this wasn't just about winning. He was playing a game, and she had no idea what the rules were.

As the crowd began to disperse, Sara stayed in the gallery, her mind racing. She needed a plan. She couldn't confront Vell directly—not yet. But if she could find a way to expose him, to reveal his true nature to the world, maybe she could stop whatever he was planning.

But first, she needed to know more. And there was only one person who might have the answers she was looking for.

---

Later that evening, Sara found herself standing outside a small, unassuming shop in the Lower District. The sign above the door read "Eldritch Antiquities," and the windows were dark, giving no hint of what lay inside.

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. A bell chimed softly, and the scent of old parchment and incense filled the air. The shop was cluttered with strange artifacts—ancient books, glowing crystals, and objects that seemed to shift and change when she looked at them too closely.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked, startling her.

She turned to see an elderly man standing behind the counter. His eyes were sharp and knowing, and his smile was faintly unsettling.

"I need information," she said, her voice steady despite the unease creeping up her spine. "About someone... unusual."

The old man's smile widened. "Unusual, you say? That's my specialty. Come, sit. Tell me what you're looking for."

As she began to explain, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a big mistake. But she had no choice, he needed to find the truth, her gut told her if Vell is not stopped something bad will happen.

---

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the city, Vell watched from afar, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. The beast girl stood beside him, her tail flicking lazily.

"She's getting closer," the beast girl said, her voice tinged with amusement.

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Let her come. The closer she gets, the more she'll see. And the more she sees, the more she'll realize how powerless she truly is."

The beast girl chuckled softly. "You always did enjoy playing with your food."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the air around them grew heavy with an unspoken threat.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said, his tone light once more. "The game is just beginning. And I intend to win."