Another heavy door blocked the entry to the upper levels of the building. The muffled laughter only served to fuel Siegfried's madness as the image of the mutilated woman in the basement was joined by flashes of his sister Katharina.

Siegfried’s body was burning up with anticipation as he kicked the sturdy door. The single piece of wood didn’t splinter but was ripped from the hinges. The slab of wood crashed into the spacious room behind.

Silence followed as dozens of rough-looking men and a few women stared at Sieg. Most were arranged around a makeshift ring with two bloodied contestants inside. The fighting event had drawn them all together, making Siegfried’s job easier.

The first to react was a lizardman that was more reptile than human. He jumped through a quarter of the room at Sieg, claws and teeth dripping with venom. Sieg sidestepped and impaled the attacker effortlessly while avoiding a single scratch on his arm. With a roar, he threw the dying man into the cluster of onlookers, following behind the body in a burst of speed.

The densely packed crowd made evading hard, and Sieg barreled into them like a bull with horns of steel and enamel. The vicious nature of his sickle let him hook a burly boar-man through the should and use him as a temporary meatshield.

He struck with the pommel of his sword, literally breaking the face of a feline man. He continued the motion into a swing that severed another’s arm at the shoulder.

Before they could rush him, Sieg kicked the boar-man from his sickle, pushing an opening to his left. Pressing on, he maimed and cut his way forward, only evading the potentially venomous attacks and those few who had iron blades.

The feline fighters were as fast as Sieg himself. Their claws were sharp, but his denser muscles stopped the quick strikes from biting deeper. Every second attacker lost a hand or arm in return.

Siegfried lost himself to his rage, cutting, ripping and breaking whatever appendages entered his range. The cries of mutilated and broken men and women filled the air.

He noticed the press of bodies letting up when the first of them realised that flesh wounds didn’t stop him.

Using a canine man as a steppingstone, Sieg took a massive leap towards the stairway across the room, breaking the canine’s shoulder in the process.

The few who made it close skittered to a stop, but Sieg was too fast for them to turn around in time.

Several feline men used the opportunity to dash in the opposite direction and escape downwards. A wall of green-scaled muscle emerged from the stairs, blocking the way out.

Their fighting spirit lost, the remaining enemies were unable to reorganise. Siegfried was an ungiving hammer that broke the masses against the anvil that was Rak.

Some got on their knees, pleading for their life. Sieg cut them down without mercy.

As the last of them fell, Sieg observed his work. At least half of the bodies on the floor were still bleeding and crying. He did not move but watched them wailing in their agony.

Rak threw him a wary glance before the drakish clansman crushed the skull of a feline woman, putting her out of her misery.

Sieg wanted to stop him. They did not deserve a quick death. Those who did not actively engage in torture let it happen knowingly. But something in the burly lizardman’s gaze stopped him from interfering. It still took several minutes for Rak to end all of them while Siegfried watched in silence.

A puddle of blood formed beneath his feet as the shapeshifter’s body used most of his reserves to close the many wounds he had taken. He didn’t register the pain. The blood loss was still manageable until he could replenish his energy. Sieg wanted to move on— Haylee was a few levels higher, and there might still be some enemies left up there.

But something kept his feet rooted to the spot, and his gaze focused on the massacred bodies before him. Something inside him seemed to shout at him, trying to get his attention. He continued staring at the corpses, wondering what it was that kept him frozen.

††† Haylee †††

Haylee and Bahsah had infiltrated the top level of the medium-sized fortress from the outside. Shadow himself was far more vigilant and cautious than his subordinates. His office had a single door and no windows. A broad table with a cushioned chair sat at the far side, situating the faction leader with his back to the wall. Sneaking up to him was impossible.

Instead, they eliminated his feline guards, all who would be in earshot, and entered the room as if it was their own.

Bahsah showed a savage grin that distorted the scar across her eye as Shadow’s eyes widened just a fraction. “Hrn, did not expect this old woman to come back, usurper?”

Shadow did not answer as he measured up Haylee, who in turn did the same.

Countless scars marred the faction leader’s black fur. His green eyes were cold and calculating as he glided over the table in a single smooth motion. Even Haylee’s enhanced ears could not pick up a sound as his paws touched the floor.

The silence was deafening in a way that Haylee had never experienced before. None of them moved a muscle. The tension in the air was tangible, her pulse speeding up with each second. Her subconsciousness started to focus on the quick beats of her heart, and Shadow used that exact moment to explode into motion.

When Haylee reacted, Bahsah had already met Shadow halfway. It was a vicious exchange of claws and teeth, both trying to do as much damage as possible while avoiding fatal wounds.

Haylee tried to circle around, but Shadow masterfully kept Bahsah between them. He was fast and far more experienced.

Following her instincts, Haylee shifted into her most natural form. Changing into a big cat took her only a second and a half, but the process itself forced Shadow’s focus on her for an instant.

Bahsah nearly got her claws on his throat at that moment. He had to lean back and try to disengage.

Haylee lept over Bahsah, leaving no room to escape.

Shadow was off balance and could only let himself fall backwards to keep his head out of range. A howl escaped his muzzle as the big cat’s claws dug into his ribcage with enough force to crack his bones.

Bahsah was quickly on the opposite side, pinning Shadow’s arms down with her own. “Enough!” she growled, staring hatefully into her enemies eyes. “Ungrateful welp,” Bahsah snarled. “I’d love nothing more than to take my time with this.” A strand of saliva dripped from her muzzle as she raised her flew, baring the teeth. The urge to tear into the man who took everything from her was overwhelming. “I give you one chance for a quick, painful death, Shadow. Tell me where the rest of them is. I know that you sold some of us off to other factions.”

Shadow coughed up blood from his snout before raising his flews into a toothy grin. “Too late old woman.” His breathing came ragged, and they both knew he had not much time anyway. “I made sure to sell only to those who wanted them as entertainment.” He yowled and coughed up more blood as Bahsah’s claws dug into his arms. His voice was gurgling with blood as he found his grin again. “If you hoped to bring your clan back together, you could take those we kept alive in the dungeons,” he panted. His eyes were unfocusing already. “Had a lot of fun with them. You call yourself the armless band of—”

With a roar of hatred, Bahsah bit into his throat and ripped out his jugular.

Haylee slowly changed back into her partly feline form. As she processed the information, her heart froze with dread. “Siegfried,” the cat-girl cried as the realisation struck her. She charged out of the room and sprinted to the roof access they used on the way inside.

Haylee climbed down the outer wall with reckless jumps, relying on her sharp claws to hold her weight onto the wooden structure. The lack of noise was disturbing. When she dropped onto a windowsill on the third level, the smell hit her like a fist.

Blood. More than she had ever smelled before. It came from a high window on the second level, and Haylee did not hesitate to jump inside.

The young cat-girl lost her breakfast in a violent heave as her senses were overwhelmed. She had seen death often enough in her short life and killed her fair share of people without remorse. But this was not like anything she ever saw before.

It was a massacre. Someone had butchered those people like animals. Cut off limbs covered the whole room. Bisected bodies, crushed ribcages— hardly a clean kill to be found.

And at the entrance, covered from head to toe in blood, stood Siegfried. His gaze stared emptily into the middle of the room.