"She's a fine woman, isn't she?"

Luvto commented, casually knocking down several men with ease, his eyes fixed on Graffira, another werewolf from the same clan, as she fought fiercely.

“What a thing to say in the middle of a battle,” Vint, the elven woman, replied in a sharp tone.

“What? Am I wrong? She's a fine woman, no doubt about it,” Luvto grinned, shrugging as if it were nothing unusual to him.

As they bantered, a deep rumble echoed through the ground.

“Wa-wait for me, will ya!” came the lumbering voice of Varland, the giant and leader of the Tenth Squad, shaking the ground as he approached with heavy footfalls.

"Tch, you're late, you oaf!" Luvto shouted, glaring at the slow-moving Varland.

Varland, ever the gentle giant, smiled apologetically and scratched the back of his head, lowering his head slightly as he reached the group.

"You really are slow, aren't you?" Vint remarked coldly, narrowing her eyes at him. Varland could have defended himself, but he only kept smiling, choosing to say nothing. He knew the truth—that Vint’s barrier was too narrow for his massive frame to pass through easily. But rather than argue, he simply laughed it off.

"You know, you don't always have to be so accommodating. If you have something to say, you should speak up," Vint said with a sigh, exasperated by Varland’s passive demeanor.

Still, Varland said nothing, only offering another smile in response, which drew an even deeper sigh from Vint.

"Hey," a sharp voice cut through their conversation.

“What’s up, boss?” Luvto asked, noticing Merit, the dragonkin commander of the Immortal Mercenaries, approaching with an irritated expression.

Merit pointed to a group of figures sprawled across the plaza, battered and defeated.

“Those lying there... tell me they aren't some of our own recruits, are they?”

Luvto squinted, then cursed under his breath as he recognized the beaten figures.

“Shit! It’s those idiots from yesterday’s lecture.”

He lowered his voice and quickly informed Merit. “Boss, we’ve got a problem. Those lying around are the new recruits. You know, the ones who wanted to join us.”

Merit’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Handle this before I have to get involved,” she growled.

Under her intense gaze, Luvto nodded hurriedly and started barking orders to his men. “You heard the boss! Get over there and deal with those women! But don’t make a scene. Fight them one-on-one, same numbers. We’re not about to disgrace ourselves by ganging up on them.”

Turning to Merit, Luvto put on a confident face and said, “Don’t worry, boss. We’ve got this.”

Merit, however, merely muttered under her breath, “This won’t be so easy.”

Onlookers in the plaza began to murmur among themselves as they noticed the arrival of more mercenaries.

“Hey, what’s going on? More of them are showing up,” one of the bystanders remarked nervously.

“Holy crap, you’re right. That’s a lot of them,” another replied.

The crowd had already witnessed the strength of the women fighting in the square. But now, as a wave of veteran mercenaries from the Immortal Mercenary Corps appeared, the atmosphere became tense.

“They’re the veterans of the Immortal Mercenaries,” one of the onlookers whispered, fear creeping into their voice.

"Veterans? What are you talking about?" someone asked, confused.

"The Immortal Mercenary Corps had over a thousand members in the last war, but now there are only two to three hundred left. These veterans are the survivors. They aren’t your run-of-the-mill thugs. And that huge woman over there—that’s Merit, the captain."

As the realization spread among the crowd, many faces turned pale. The weight of what was about to happen hit them all at once.

Meanwhile, back in the center of the plaza, Tin continued pummeling the men in front of her when Pocori called out to her.

“Tina, more are coming.”

“Ugh, I was almost done here,” Tin replied in a tone that hardly seemed appropriate for someone in the middle of a fight. But when she spotted the incoming group, her expression darkened.

“Your sister sent a message. She says these new ones are stronger, so don’t underestimate them and learn from the experience,” Aria relayed Marifa’s words as she regrouped with the others.

“Oh, sounds fun,” Tin grinned.

"Melanie will get cocky again... this is such a pain," Pocori muttered.

As the group gathered, the gap between them and the incoming mercenaries narrowed to about 100 meters. Between them lay the bodies of those already defeated, groaning and struggling to breathe.

“I won’t forgive you!” one of the mercenaries shouted, his voice twisted with rage as he struggled to stand. His body, infested with Vanamo’s parasites, convulsed violently.

But before he could make another move—

“Hey.”

The voice came from behind him. He turned, only to see a boot flying toward his face.

“Wait, I—gah!”

A savage kick sent him flying, and a loud crack echoed through the plaza.

“I warned you, didn’t I?” the mercenary snarled, delivering another brutal blow. The sounds of bones breaking filled the air as the onlookers turned away in horror.

Amidst the chaos, a leopard beastman, blood staining his face, grinned at Tin and her companions.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, ladies,” he said mockingly.

“Making us wait is pretty rude, don’t you think?” Tin shot back.

The beastman laughed. “Well, let’s not get personal. You’ve made a mess here, but I don’t hold a grudge. Just be good girls and die quietly, will ya?”

“You’re the one who’s going to die!” Melanie shouted, lunging at him at top speed. She was determined to overwhelm him with her agility, but—

“What? You think this is a race?” the leopard beastman smirked, effortlessly keeping up with her movements.

Meanwhile, Vanamo faced off against a bear beastman.

“Let’s get this started, shall we?” the bearman said, drawing his massive sword.

Vanamo offered a polite curtsy in response, summoning a swarm of Yellow Hornets and necrotic horseflies. Her attack was relentless, but—

“I like honey, but not bees!” the bearman roared, swinging his sword with such speed and power that Vanamo couldn’t even see the blade. Her insect army was sliced apart in an instant, their bodies writhing on the ground but unable to fly.

“Let’s have some fun!” shouted the dog beastman, charging at Tin with his shield raised.

Tin clenched her fists, preparing to strike, but before she could land a blow, the dogman caught her wrist in mid-air, smirking.

“Take this!”

With a tremendous crash, Tin was sent flying by the dogman’s Shield Burst, her body bouncing across the stone plaza like a ragdoll.

“Hell yeah! You got her good!” one of the other mercenaries cheered, but then—

The dog beastman dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. “That woman... she...”

Blood trickled from his mouth.

The pit of the man's stomach was completely caved in.

Realizing she couldn’t evade the attack, Tin had decided to meet it head-on and trade blows. She used her skill, Martial Art LV2: Tip-Toe Shock, delivering a sharp kick reinforced with powerful vibrations. The attack shattered the beastman's abdomen, tearing through his strong abdominal muscles and reaching his internal organs. However, the damage Tin received in return was far worse.

"Ugh... Ah..."

Having taken the full force of the Shield Burst, Tin’s left upper body was gruesomely mangled. Half of her face was crushed, and her left arm was broken beyond recognition. Though she somehow managed to stand, her legs were shaky, and she swayed unsteadily.

"You’re too persistent!" the leopard beastman snarled.

"Then try going faster!" Melanie shot back, growing increasingly frustrated with her opponent, who refused to be shaken off.

"Die already!"

Melanie thrust her hand forward in a spearhand strike, only for the leopard beastman to dodge effortlessly and retaliate with a punch to her solar plexus.

"Go-haugh!"

The blow left Melanie gasping for air.

"You’ve got some skill, but you picked the wrong fight," the leopard beastman taunted.

"You think you’ve already won, huh?!" Melanie yelled, attempting to land more punches and kicks at blistering speed. However, the leopard beastman deftly avoided them all.

"You use beastman martial arts, right?" the beastman smirked as he dodged another attack, his fist sinking deep into Melanie's left side.

"You're ten years too early to fight me," he declared.

"Raaah!" Melanie tried a desperate elbow strike, but even that was effortlessly dodged.

"I gotta admit, you've got guts. But take a look over there," he said, motioning toward Graffira.

"Graffira!" Melanie shouted as she saw her fellow warrior overwhelmed, taking hit after hit from her opponent. Graffira’s trusted companion, the shadow wolf Ekaterina, lay motionless on the ground.

"It's over for you all," the leopard beastman said coldly.

The Immortal Mercenary Corps' First Squad, led by Luvto, was composed mainly of beastmen, all of whom trained extensively in hand-to-hand combat. Their leader, Luvto, was a master of beastman martial arts, which made them particularly well-suited to countering warriors like Melanie and Graffira, who relied on similar techniques.

"Don't you dare decide that!" Melanie spat.

"It’s just a matter of time before we win. Look, the raccoon and fox women over there are stalling with magic, but you two are barely standing. The only one still holding her own is the demon woman, but once we finish you off, it’ll all be over."

"Shut up!" Melanie screamed.

She launched herself at the leopard beastman again, but this time he countered with a brutal punch to her face, causing her to reel backward. Blood spurted from her crushed nose and fell to the ground in thick strands.

"Arrrgh!" she screamed in defiance.

"Persistent little thing," the leopard beastman muttered. He had begun delivering decisive, calculated blows, wearing her down bit by bit. He was cautious, not because he feared her, but because he suspected she had one last trick up her sleeve.

"I… I haven’t lost yet!" Melanie panted, staggering to her feet. She pulled her right arm back, preparing for one final attack.

(What is this? Beastman Martial Art’s 'Beast Claw'? No, that stance is too big—it’s too easy to dodge. And she’s too far away…)

"Take this!" Melanie screamed.

(Is she insane? 'Beast Claw' only works at close range. I’m over five meters away! There's no way this will hit—)

Suddenly, massive claws made of condensed energy extended from Melanie's fingertips. They lashed out, their razor-sharp edges slashing through the air toward the leopard beastman.

"What the hell!?" he gasped.

Caught off guard, he barely had time to activate his defensive aura. However, the energy claws tore through his defenses, slicing into his flesh.

"Ughhh!" the beastman groaned as the claws dug deep into his body.

"Heh… How do you like that? That was one of the master's techniques…" Melanie collapsed face-first onto the ground, her energy completely spent.

"You… bitch! You nearly killed me!" the leopard beastman growled, his body bleeding profusely but still standing.

"I’ll teach you what happens to those who mess with the Immortal Mercenary Corps!" Enraged, he prepared to finish Melanie off. He raised his hand, aiming for her neck, and threw a deadly spearhand strike. The force of his killing intent was palpable as his hand tore through the air, aiming to end her life.

But just as his attack was about to land—

"Now…"

Marifa's hand appeared, gripping the beastman's wrist, stopping his strike cold.

"Huh? Dark elf girl, what are you playing at? You wanna hold hands? Maybe go on a date or something?" the leopard beastman sneered.

"What did you just say?" Marifa asked coldly.

"Weren’t you just watching the show? Let go of me!" he shouted, trying to pull his arm free. No matter how much he struggled or how much force he applied, his arm wouldn’t budge. It was as if his hand was glued to an immovable block of iron.

(What’s with this woman? How the hell is a dark elf, a female no less, overpowering me, a beastman?)

"I asked you a question," Marifa said, her voice growing colder.

"Did you… mention something about my mother?"

The beastman glared at her and retorted, "Yeah, your mom’s a whore, right? Or was I mistaken—"

Before he could finish his insult, the beastman felt something squirm beneath Marifa's skin. Her grip tightened, and he watched in horror as his arm began to twist and bend unnaturally. His enhanced beastman vision allowed him to see it all in excruciating detail, like a slow-motion nightmare.

"Gyahhhhhh!" he screamed as the bones in his arm snapped like twigs.

"You mentioned the Immortal Mercenary Corps, didn’t you?" Marifa asked icily.